BIOGRAPHIES

OF

DISTINGUISHED SCIENTIFIC MEN. 

BY FRANÇOIS ARAGO, MEMBER OF THE INSTITUTE. 

TRANSLATED BY

ADMIRAL W. H. SMYTH, D. C. L. , F. R. S. , &c. 

THE REV. BADEN POWELL, M. A. , F. R. S. , &c. 

AND

ROBERT GRANT, Esq. , M. A. , F. R. A. S. 

FIRST SERIES. 

BOSTON:

TICKNOR AND FIELDS. 

M DCCC LIX. 

RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE:

PRINTED BY H. O. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY. 

TRANSLATORS' PREFACE. 

The present volume of the series of English translations of M. Arago'sworks consists of his own autobiography and a selection of some of hismemoirs of eminent scientific men, both continental and British. 

It does not distinctly appear at what period of his life Arago composedthe autobiography, but it bears throughout the characteristic stamp ofhis ardent and energetic disposition. The reader will, perhaps, hardlysuppress a smile at the indications of self-satisfaction with whichseveral of the incidents are brought forward, while the air of romancewhich invests some of the adventures may possibly give rise to somesuspicion of occasional embellishment; on these points, however, weleave each reader to judge for himself. In relation to the history ofscience, this memoir gives some interesting particulars, which discloseto us much of the interior spirit of the Academy of Sciences, not alwaysof a kind the most creditable to some of Arago's former contemporaries. 

But a far higher interest will be found to belong to those eloquentmemoirs, or éloges of eminent departed men of science, who had attainedthe distinction of being members of the Academy. 

In these the reader will find a luminous, eminently simple, and popularaccount of the discoveries of each of those distinguished individuals, of a kind constituting in fact a brief history of the particular branchof science to which he was devoted. And in the selection included in thepresent volume, which constitutes but a portion of the entire series, wehave comprised the accounts of men of such varied pursuits as to conveyno inadequate impression of the progress of discovery throughout aconsiderable range of the whole field of the physical sciences withinthe last half century. 

The account given by the author, of the principal discoveries made bythe illustrious subjects of his memoirs, is in general very luminous, but at the same time presupposes a familiarity with some parts ofscience which may not really be possessed by all readers. For the sakeof a considerable class, then, we have taken occasion, wherever the useof new technical terms or other like circumstances seemed to require it, to introduce original notes and commentaries, sometimes of considerableextent, by the aid of which we trust the scientific principles advertedto in the text will be rendered easily intelligible to the generalreader. 

In some few instances also we have found ourselves called upon to adopta more critical tone; where we were disposed to dissent from the viewtaken by the author on particular questions of a controversial kind, orwhen he is arguing in support, or in refutation, of opposing theories onsome points of science not yet satisfactorily cleared up. 

We could have wished that our duty as translators and editors had notextended beyond such mere occasional scientific or literary criticism. But there unfortunately seemed to be one or two points where, inpronouncing on the claims of distinguished individuals, or criticizingtheir inventions, a doubt could not but be felt as to the perfect_fairness_ of Arago's judgment, and in which we were constrained toexpress an unfavourable opinion on the manner in which the relativepretensions of men of the highest eminence seemed to be decided, involving what might sometimes be fairly regarded as undue prejudice, or possibly a feeling of personal or even national jealousy. Much as weshould deprecate the excitement of any feeling of hostility of thiskind, yet we could not, in our editorial capacity, shrink from the plainduty of endeavouring to advocate what appeared to us right and true; andwe trust that whatever opinion may be entertained as to the_conclusions_ to which we have come on such points, we shall not havegiven ground for any complaint that we have violated any due courtesy orpropriety in our _mode_ of expressing those conclusions, or the reasonson which they are founded. 

CONTENTS. 

 PAGETHE HISTORY OF MY YOUTH. 

An Autobiography of Francis Arago 1

BAILLY. 

Introduction 91

Infancy of Bailly. --His Youth. --His Literary Essays. --HisMathematical Studies 93

Bailly becomes the Pupil of Lacaille. --He is associatedwith him in his Astronomical Labours 97

Bailly a Member of the Academy of Sciences. --His Researcheson Jupiter's Satellites 103

Bailly's Literary Works. --His Biographies of Charles V. --ofLeibnitz--of Peter Corneille--of Molière 106

Debates relative to the Post of Perpetual Secretary ofthe Academy of Sciences 110

History of Astronomy. --Letters on the Atlantis of Platoand on the Ancient History of Asia 114

First Interview of Bailly with Franklin. --His Entranceinto the French Academy in 1783. --His Reception. --Discourse. --HisRupture with Buffon 121

Report on Animal Magnetism 127

Election of Bailly into the Academy of Inscriptions 155

Report on the Hospitals 157

Report on the Slaughter-Houses 165

Biographies of Cook and of Gresset 167

Assembly of the Notables. --Bailly is named First Deputyof Paris; and soon after Dean or Senior of the Deputiesof the Communes 169

Bailly becomes Mayor of Paris. --Scarcity. --Marat declareshimself inimical to the Mayor. --Events of the 6th of October 179

A Glance at the Posthumous Memoir of Bailly 193

Examination of Bailly's Administration as Mayor 195

The King's Flight. --Events on the Champ de Mars 206

Bailly quits the Mayoralty the 12th of November, 1791. --TheEschevins. --Examination of the Reproaches that might beaddressed to the Mayor 211

Bailly's Journey from Paris to Nantes, and then from Nantes toMélun. --His Arrest in this last Town. --He is transferred to Paris 217

Bailly is called as a Witness in the Trial of the Queen. --His ownTrial before the Revolutionary Tribunal. --His Condemnation toDeath. --His Execution. --Imaginary Details added by ill-informedHistorians to what that odious and frightful Event alreadypresented 225

Portrait of Bailly. --His Wife 250

HERSCHEL. 

Personal History 258

Chronological Table of the Memoirs of William Herschel 266

Improvements in the Means of Observation 271

Labours in Sidereal Astronomy 285

Labours relative to the Solar System 289

Optical Labours 301

LAPLACE. 

Preliminary Notice 303

APPENDIX. 

 (A. ) Brief Notice of some other interesting Results of the Researches of Laplace which have not been mentioned in the Text 368

 (B. ) The Mécanique Céleste 372

JOSEPH FOURIER. 

Preliminary Notice 374

Birth of Fourier. --His Youth 377

Memoir on the Resolution of Numerical Equations 380

Part played by Fourier in our Revolution. --His Entranceinto the Corps of Professors of the Normal School andthe Polytechnic School. --Expedition to Egypt 384

Fourier Prefect of L'Isère 405

Mathematical Theory of Heat 408

Central Heat of the Terrestrial Globe 419

Return of Napoleon from Elba. --Fourier Prefect of theRhone. --His Nomination to the Office of Director of theBoard of Statistics of the Seine 430

Entrance of Fourier into the Academy of Sciences. --HisElection to the Office of Perpetual Secretary. --His Admissionto the French Academy 437

Character of Fourier. --His Death 438

LIVES

OF

DISTINGUISHED SCIENTIFIC MEN. 

THE HISTORY OF MY YOUTH:

AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF FRANCIS ARAGO. 

I have not the foolish vanity to imagine that any one, even a short timehence, will have the curiosity to find out how my first education wasgiven, and how my mind was developed; but some biographers, writing offhand and without authority, having given details on this subject utterlyincorrect, and of a nature to imply negligence on the part of myparents, I consider myself bound to put them right. 

I was born on the 26th of February, 1786, in the commune of Estagel, anancient province of Roussillon (department of the Eastern Pyrenees). Myfather, a licentiate in law, had some little property in arable land, invineyards, and in plantations of olive-trees, the income from whichsupported his numerous family. 

I was thus three years old in 1789, four years old in 1790, five yearsin 1791, six years in 1792, and seven years old in 1793, &c. 

The reader has now himself the means of judging whether, as has beensaid, and even stated in print, I had a hand in the excesses of ourfirst revolution. 

My parents sent me to the primary school in Estagel, where I learnt therudiments of reading and writing. I received, besides, in my father'shouse, some private lessons in vocal music. I was not otherwise eithermore or less advanced than other children of my age. I enter into thesedetails merely to show how much mistaken are those who have printed thatat the age of fourteen or fifteen years I had not yet learnt to read. 

Estagel was a halting-place for a portion of the troops who, coming fromthe interior, either went on to Perpignan, or repaired direct to thearmy of the Pyrenees. My parents' house was therefore constantly full ofofficers and soldiers. This, joined to the lively excitement which theSpanish invasion had produced within me, inspired me with such decidedmilitary tastes, that my family was obliged to have me narrowly watchedto prevent my joining by stealth the soldiers who left Estagel. It oftenhappened that they caught me at a league's distance from the village, already on my way with the troops. 

On one occasion these warlike tastes had nearly cost me dear. It was thenight of the battle of Peires-Tortes. The Spanish troops in theirretreat had partly mistaken their road. I was in the square of thevillage before daybreak; I saw a brigadier and five troopers come up, who, at the sight of the tree of liberty, called out, "_Somosperdidos!_" I ran immediately to the house to arm myself with a lancewhich had been left there by a soldier of the _levée en masse_, andplacing myself in ambush at the corner of a street, I struck with a blowof this weapon the brigadier placed at the head of the party. The woundwas not dangerous; a cut of the sabre, however, was descending to punishmy hardihood, when some countrymen came to my aid, and, armed withforks, overturned the five cavaliers from their saddles, and made themprisoners. I was then seven years old. [1]

My father having gone to reside at Perpignan, as treasurer of the mint, all the family quitted Estagel to follow him there. I was then placed asan out-door pupil at the municipal college of the town, where I occupiedmyself almost exclusively with my literary studies. Our classic authorshad become the objects of my favourite reading. But the direction of myideas became changed all at once by a singular circumstance which I willrelate. 

Walking one day on the ramparts of the town, I saw an officer ofengineers who was directing the execution of the repairs. This officer, M. Cressac, was very young; I had the hardihood to approach him, and toask him how he had succeeded in so soon wearing an epaulette. "I comefrom the Polytechnic School, " he answered. "What school is that?" "It isa school which one enters by an examination. " "Is much expected of thecandidates?" "You will see it in the programme which the Governmentsends every year to the departmental administration; you will find itmoreover in the numbers of the journal of the school, which are in thelibrary of the central school. "

I ran at once to the library, and there, for the first time, I read theprogramme of the knowledge required in the candidates. 

From this moment I abandoned the classes of the central school, where Iwas taught to admire Corneille, Racine, La Fontaine, Molière, andattended only the mathematical course. This course was entrusted to aretired ecclesiastic, the Abbé Verdier, a very respectable man, butwhose knowledge went no further than the elementary course of La Caille. I saw at a glance that M. Verdier's lessons would not be sufficient tosecure my admission to the Polytechnic School; I therefore decided onstudying by myself the newest works, which I sent for from Paris. Thesewere those of Legendre, Lacroix, and Garnier. In going through theseworks I often met with difficulties which exceeded my powers; happily, strange though it be, and perhaps without example in all the rest ofFrance, there was a proprietor at Estagel, M. Raynal, who made the studyof the higher mathematics his recreation. It was in his kitchen, whilstgiving orders to numerous domestics for the labours of the next day, that M. Raynal read with advantage the "Hydraulic Architecture" ofProny, the "Mécanique Analytique, " and the "Mécanique Céleste. " Thisexcellent man often gave me useful advice; but I must say that I foundmy real master in the cover of M. Garnier's "Treatise on Algebra. " Thiscover consisted of a printed leaf, on the outside of which blue paperwas pasted. The reading of the page not covered made me desirous to knowwhat the blue paper hid from me. I took off this paper carefully, havingfirst damped it, and was able to read underneath it the advice given byd'Alembert to a young man who communicated to him the difficulties whichhe met with in his studies: "Go on, sir, go on, and conviction will cometo you. "

This gave me a gleam of light; instead of persisting in attempts tocomprehend at first sight the propositions before me, I admitted theirtruth provisionally; I went on further, and was quite surprised, on themorrow, that I comprehended perfectly what overnight appeared to me tobe encompassed with thick clouds. 

I thus made myself master, in a year and a half, of all the subjectscontained in the programme for admission, and I went to Montpellier toundergo the examination. I was then sixteen years of age. M. Monge, junior, the examiner, was detained at Toulouse by indisposition, andwrote to the candidates assembled at Montpellier that he would examinethem in Paris. I was myself too unwell to undertake so long a journey, and I returned to Perpignan. 

There I listened for a moment to the solicitations of my family, whopressed me to renounce the prospects which the Polytechnic Schoolopened. But my taste for mathematical studies soon carried the day; Iincreased my library with Euler's "Introduction à l'AnalyseInfinitésimale, " with the "Résolution des Equations Numériques, " withLagrange's "Théorie des Fonctions Analytiques, " and "MécaniqueAnalytique, " and finally with Laplace's "Mécanique Céleste. " I gavemyself up with great ardour to the study of these books. From thejournal of the Polytechnic School containing such investigations asthose of M. Poisson on Elimination, I imagined that all the pupils wereas much advanced as this geometer, and that it would be necessary torise to this height to succeed. 

From this moment, I prepared myself for the artillery service, --the aimof my ambition; and as I had heard that an officer ought to understandmusic, fencing, and dancing, I devoted the first hours of each day tothe cultivation of these accomplishments. 

The rest of the time I was seen walking in the moats of the citadel ofPerpignan, seeking by more or less forced transitions to pass from onequestion to another, so as to be sure of being able to show the examinerhow far my studies had been carried. [2]

At last the moment of examination arrived, and I went to Toulouse incompany with a candidate who had studied at the public college. It wasthe first time that pupils from Perpignan had appeared at thecompetition. My intimidated comrade was completely discomfited. When Irepaired after him to the board, a very singular conversation tookplace between M. Monge (the examiner) and me. 

"If you are going to answer like your comrade, it is useless for me toquestion you. "

"Sir, my comrade knows much more than he has shown; I hope I shall bemore fortunate than he; but what you have just said to me might wellintimidate me and deprive me of all my powers. "

"Timidity is always the excuse of the ignorant; it is to save you fromthe shame of a defeat that I make you the proposal of not examiningyou. "

"I know of no greater shame than that which you now inflict upon me. Will you be so good as to question me? It is your duty. "

"You carry yourself very high, sir! We shall see presently whether thisbe a legitimate pride. "

"Proceed, sir; I wait for you. "

M. Monge then put to me a geometrical question, which I answered in sucha way as to diminish his prejudices. From this he passed on to aquestion in algebra, then the resolution of a numerical equation. I hadthe work of Lagrange at my fingers' ends; I analyzed all the knownmethods, pointing out their advantages and effects; Newton's method, themethod of recurring series, the method of depression, the method ofcontinued fractions, --all were passed in review; the answer had lastedan entire hour. Monge, brought over now to feelings of great kindness, said to me, "I could, from this moment, consider the examination at anend. I will, however, for my own pleasure, ask you two more questions. What are the relations of a curved line to the straight line that is atangent to it?" I looked upon this question as a particular case of thetheory of osculations which I had studied in Legrange's "FonctionsAnalytiques. " "Finally, " said the examiner to me, "how do you determinethe tension of the various cords of which a funicular machine iscomposed?" I treated this problem according to the method expounded inthe "Mécanique Analytique. " It was clear that Lagrange had supplied allthe resources of my examination. 

I had been two hours and a quarter at the board. M. Monge, going fromone extreme to the other, got up, came and embraced me, and solemnlydeclared that I should occupy the first place on his list. Shall Iconfess it? During the examination of my comrade I had heard theToulousian candidates uttering not very favourable sarcasms on thepupils from Perpignan; and it was principally for the sake of reparationto my native town that M. Monge's behaviour and declaration transportedme with joy. 

Having entered the Polytechnic School, at the end of 1803, I was placedin the excessively boisterous brigade of the Gascons and Britons. Ishould have much liked to study thoroughly physics and chemistry, ofwhich I did not even know the first rudiments; but the behaviour of mycompanions rarely left me any time for it. As for analysis, I hadalready, before entering the Polytechnic School, learnt much more thanwas required for leaving it. 

I have just related the strange words which M. Monge, junior, addressedto me at Toulouse in commencing my examination for admission. Somethinganalogous occurred at the opening of my examination in mathematics forpassing from one division of the school to another. The examiner, thistime, was the illustrious geometer Legendre, of whom, a few years after, I had the honour of becoming the colleague and the friend. 

I entered his study at the moment when M. T----, who was to undergo hisexamination before me, having fainted away, was being carried out in thearms of two servants. I thought that this circumstance would have movedand softened M. Legendre; but it had no such effect "What is your name, "he said to me sharply. "Arago, " I answered. "You are not French then?""If I was not French I should not be before you; for I have never heardof any one being admitted into the school unless his nationality hadbeen proved. " "I maintain that he is not French whose name is Arago. " "Imaintain, on my side, that I am French, and a very good Frenchman too, however strange my name may appear to you. " "Very well; we will notdiscuss the point farther; go to the board. "

I had scarcely taken up the chalk, when M. Legendre, returning to thefirst subject of his preoccupations, said to me: "You were born in oneof the departments recently united to France?" "No, sir; I was born inthe department of the Eastern Pyrenees, at the foot of the Pyrenees. ""Oh! why did you not tell me that at once? all is now explained. You areof Spanish origin, are you not?" "Possibly; but in my humble familythere are no authentic documents preserved which could enable me totrace back the civil position of my ancestors; each one there is thechild of his own deeds. I declare to you again that I am French, andthat ought to be sufficient for you. "

The vivacity of this last answer had not disposed M. Legendre in myfavour. I saw this very soon; for, having put a question to me whichrequired the use of double integrals, he stopped me, saying: "The methodwhich you are following was not given to you by the professor. Whencedid you get it?" "From one of your papers. " "Why did you choose it? wasit to bribe me?" "No; nothing was farther from my thoughts. I onlyadopted it because it appeared to me preferable. " "If you are unable toexplain to me the reasons for your preference, I declare to you that youshall receive a bad mark, at least as to character. "

I then entered upon the details which established, as I thought, thatthe method of double integrals was in all points more clear and morerational than that which Lacroix had expounded to us in theamphitheatre. From this moment Legendre appeared to me to be satisfied, and to relent. 

Afterwards, he asked me to determine the centre of gravity of aspherical sector. "The question is easy, " I said to him. "Very well;since you find it easy, I will complicate it: instead of supposing thedensity constant, I will suppose that it varies from the centre to thesurface according to a determined function. " I got through thiscalculation very happily; and from this moment I had entirely gained thefavour of the examiner. Indeed, on my retiring, he addressed to me thesewords, which, coming from him, appeared to my comrades as a veryfavourable augury for my chance of promotion: "I see that you haveemployed your time well; go on in the same way the second year, and weshall part very good friends. "

In the mode of examination adopted at the Polytechnic School in 1804, which is always cited as being better than the present organization, room was allowed for the exercise of some unjustifiable caprices. Wouldit be believed, for example, that the old M. Barruel examined two pupilsat a time in physics, and gave them, it is said, the same mark, whichwas the mean between the actual merits of the two? For my part, I wasassociated with a comrade full of intelligence, but who had not studiedthis branch of the course. We agreed that he should leave the answeringto me, and we found the arrangement advantageous to both. 

As I have been led to speak of the school as it was in 1804, I will saythat its faults were less those of organization than those of personalmanagement; for many of the professors were much below their office, afact which gave rise to somewhat ridiculous scenes. The pupils, forinstance, having observed the insufficiency of M. Hassenfratz, made ademonstration of the dimensions of the rainbow, full of errors ofcalculation, but in which the one compensated the other so that thefinal result was true. The professor, who had only this result wherebyto judge of the goodness of the answer, when he saw it appear on theboard, did not hesitate to call out, "Good, good, perfectly good!" whichexcited shouts of laughter on all the benches of the amphitheatre. 

When a professor has lost consideration, without which it is impossiblefor him to do well, they allow themselves to insult him to an incredibleextent. Of this I will cite a single specimen. 

A pupil, M. Leboullenger, met one evening in company this same M. Hassenfratz, and had a discussion with him. When he reëntered the schoolin the morning, he mentioned this circumstance to us. "Be on yourguard, " said one of our comrades to him; "you will be interrogated thisevening. Play with caution, for the professor has certainly preparedsome great difficulties so as to cause laughter at your expense. "

Our anticipations were not mistaken. Scarcely had the pupils arrived inthe amphitheatre, when M. Hassenfratz called to M. Leboullenger, whocame to the board. 

"M. Leboullenger, " said the professor to him, "you have seen the moon?""No, sir. " "How, sir! you say that you have never seen the moon?" "I canonly, repeat my answer--no, sir. " Beside himself, and seeing his preyescape him, by means of this unexpected answer, M. Hassenfratz addressedhimself to the inspector charged with the observance of order that day, and said to him, "Sir, there is M. Leboullenger, who pretends never tohave seen the moon. " "What would you wish me to do?" stoically repliedM. Le Brun. Repulsed on this side, the professor turned once moretowards M. Leboullenger, who remained calm and earnest in the midst ofthe unspeakable amusement of the whole amphitheatre, and cried out withundisguised anger, "You persist in maintaining that you have never seenthe moon?" "Sir, " returned the pupil, "I should deceive you if I toldyou that I had not heard it spoken of, but I have never seen it. " "Sir, return to your place. "

After this scene, M. Hassenfratz was but a professor in name; histeaching could no longer be of any use. 

At the commencement of the second year, I was appointed "_chef debrigade_. " Hatchette had been professor of hydrography at Collioure; hisfriends from Roussillon recommended me to him. He received me with greatkindness, and even gave me a room in his lodgings. It was there that Ihad the pleasure of making Poisson's acquaintance, who lived next to us. Every evening the great geometer entered my room, and we passed entirehours in conversing on politics and mathematics, which is certainly notquite the same thing. 

In the course of 1804, the school was a prey to political passions, andthat through the fault of the government. 

They wished forthwith to oblige the pupils to sign an address ofcongratulation on the discovery of the conspiracy in which Moreau wasimplicated. They refused to do so on the ground that it was not for themto pronounce on a cause which had been in the hands of justice. It must, however, be remarked, that Moreau had not yet dishonoured himself bytaking service in the Russian army, which had come to attack the Frenchunder the walls of Dresden. 

The pupils were invited to make a manifestation in favour of theinstitution of the Legion of Honour. This again they refused. They knewwell that the cross, given without inquiry and without control, wouldbe, in most cases, the recompense of charlatanism, and not of truemerit. 

The transformation of the Consular into the Imperial Government gaverise to very animated discussions in the interior of the school. 

Many pupils refused to add their felicitations to the mean adulations ofthe constituted bodies. 

General Lacuée, who was appointed governor of the school, reported thisopposition to the Emperor. 

"M. Lacuée, " cried Napoleon, in the midst of a group of courtiers, whoapplauded with speech and gesture, "you cannot retain at the schoolthose pupils who have shown such ardent Republicanism; you will sendthem away. " Then, collecting himself, he added, "I will first know theirnames and their stages of promotion. " Seeing the list the next day, hedid not proceed further than the first name, which was the first in theartillery. "I will not drive away the first men in advancement, " saidhe. "Ah! if they had been at the bottom of the list! M. Lacuée, leavethem alone. "

Nothing was more curious than the _séance_ to which General Lacuée cameto receive the oath of obedience from the pupils. In the vastamphitheatre which contained them, one could not discern a trace of thegravity which such a ceremony should inspire. The greater part, insteadof answering, at the call of their names, "I swear it, " cried out, "Present. "

All at once the monotony of this scene was interrupted by a pupil, sonof the Conventionalist Brissot, who called out in a stentorian voice, "Iwill not take the oath of obedience to the Emperor. " Lacuée, pale andwith little presence of mind, ordered a detachment of armed pupilsplaced behind him to go and arrest the recusant. The detachment, ofwhich I was at the head, refused to obey. Brissot, addressing himself tothe General, with the greatest calmness said to him, "Point out theplace to which you wish me to go; do not force the pupils to dishonourthemselves by laying hands on a comrade who has no desire to resist. "

The next morning Brissot was expelled. 

About this time, M. Méchain, who had been sent to Spain to prolong themeridional line as far as Formentera, died at Castellon de la Plana. Hisson, Secretary at the Observatory, immediately gave in his resignation. Poisson offered me the situation. I declined his first proposal. I didnot wish to renounce the military career, --the object of all mypredilections, and in which, moreover, I was assured of the protectionof Marshal Lannes, --a friend of my father's. Nevertheless I accepted, ontrial, the position offered me in the Observatory, after a visit which Imade to M. De Laplace in company with M. Poisson, under the expresscondition that I could re-enter the Artillery if that should suit me. Itwas from this cause that my name remained inscribed on the list of thepupils of the school. I was only detached to the Observatory on aspecial service. 

I entered this establishment, then, on the nomination of Poisson, myfriend, and through the intervention of Laplace. The latter loaded mewith civilities. I was happy and proud when I dined in the Rue deTournon with the great geometer. My mind and my heart were much disposedto admire all, to respect all, that was connected with him who haddiscovered the cause of the secular equation of the moon, had found inthe movement of this planet the means of calculating the ellipticity ofthe earth, had traced to the laws of attraction the long inequalities ofJupiter and of Saturn, &c. &c. But what was my disenchantment, when oneday I heard Madame de Laplace, approaching her husband, say to him, "Will you entrust to me the key of the sugar?"

Some days afterwards, a second incident affected me still more vividly. M. De Laplace's son was preparing for the examinations of thePolytechnic School. He came sometimes to see me at the Observatory. Inone of his visits I explained to him the method of continued fractions, by help of which Lagrange obtains the roots of numerical equations. Theyoung man spoke of it to his father with admiration. I shall neverforget the rage which followed the words of Emile de Laplace, and theseverity of the reproaches which were addressed to me, for havingpatronized a mode of proceeding which may be very long in theory, butwhich evidently can in no way be found fault with on the score of itselegance and precision. Never had a jealous prejudice shown itself moreopenly, or under a more bitter form. "Ah!" said I to myself, "how truewas the inspiration of the ancients when they attributed weaknesses tohim who nevertheless made Olympus tremble by a frown!"

Here I should mention, in order of time, a circumstance which might haveproduced the most fatal consequences for me. The fact was this:--

I have described above, the scene which caused the expulsion ofBrissot's son from the Polytechnic School. I had entirely lost sight ofhim for several months, when he came to pay me a visit at theObservatory, and placed me in the most delicate, the most terrible, position that an honest man ever found himself in. 

"I have not seen you, " he said to me, "because since leaving the schoolI have practised daily firing with a pistol; I have now acquired a skillbeyond the common, and I am about to employ it in ridding France of thetyrant who has confiscated all her liberties. My measures are taken: Ihave hired a small room on the Carrousel, close to the place by whichNapoleon, on coming out from the court, will pass to review the cavalry;from the humble window of my apartment will the ball be fired which willgo through his head. "

I leave it to be imagined with what despair I received this confidence. I made every imaginable effort to deter Brissot from his sinisterproject; I remarked how all those who had rushed on enterprises of thisnature had been branded in history by the odious title of assassin. Nothing succeeded in shaking his fatal resolution; I only obtained fromhim a promise on his honour that the execution of it should be postponedfor a time, and I put myself in quest of means for rendering itabortive. 

The idea of announcing Brissot's project to the authorities did noteven enter my thoughts. It seemed a fatality which came to smite me, andof which I must undergo the consequences, however serious they might be. 

I counted much on the solicitations of Brissot's mother, already socruelly tried during the revolution. I went to her home, in the Rue deCondé, and implored her earnestly to coöperate with me in preventing herson from carrying out his sanguinary resolution. "Ah, sir, " replied thislady, who was naturally a model of gentleness, "if Silvain" (this wasthe name of her son) "believes that he is accomplishing a patrioticduty, I have neither the intention nor the desire to turn him from hisproject. "

It was from myself that I must henceforth draw all my resources. I hadremarked that Brissot was addicted to the composition of romances andpieces of poetry. I encouraged this passion, and every Sunday, aboveall, when I knew that there would be a review, I went to fetch him, anddrew him into the country, in the environs of Paris. I listened thencomplacently to the reading of those chapters of his romance which hehad composed during the week. 

The first excursions frightened me a little, for armed with his pistols, Brissot seized every occasion of showing his great skill; and Ireflected that this circumstance would lead to my being considered ashis accomplice, if he ever carried out his project. At last, hispretensions to literary fame, which I flattered to the utmost, the hopes(though I had none myself) which I led him to conceive of the success ofan attachment of which he had confided the secret to me, made himreceive with attention the reflections which I constantly made to him onhis enterprise. He determined on making a journey beyond the seas, andthus relieved me from the most serious anxiety which I have experiencedin all my life. 

Brissot died after having covered the walls of Paris with printedhandbills in favour of the Bourbon restoration. 

I had scarcely entered the Observatory, when I became thefellow-labourer of Biot in researches on the refraction of gases, already commenced by Borda. 

While engaged in this work the celebrated academician and I oftenconversed on the interest there would be in resuming in Spain themeasurement interrupted by the death of Méchain. We submitted ourproject to Laplace, who received it with ardour, procured the necessaryfunds, and the Government confided to us two this important mission. 

M. Biot, I, and the Spanish commissary Rodriguez departed from Paris inthe commencement of 1806. We visited, on our way, the stations indicatedby Méchain; we made some important modifications in the projectedtriangulation, and at once commenced operations. 

An inaccurate direction given to the reflectors established at Iviza, onthe mountain Campvey, rendered the observations made on the continentextremely difficult. The light of the signal of Campvey was very rarelyseen, and I was, during six months, in the _Desierto de las Palmas_, without being able to see it, whilst at a later period the lightestablished at the Desierto, but well directed, was seen every eveningfrom Campvey. It will easily be imagined what must be the _ennui_experienced by a young and active astronomer, confined to an elevatedpeak, having for his walk only a space of twenty square metres, and fordiversion only the conversation of two Carthusians, whose convent wassituated at the foot of the mountain, and who came in secret, infringing the rule of their order. 

At the time when I write these lines, old and infirm, my legs scarcelyable to sustain me, my thoughts revert involuntarily to that epoch of mylife when, young and vigorous, I bore the greatest fatigues, and walkedday and night, in the mountainous countries which separate the kingdomsof Valencia and Catalonia from the kingdom of Aragon, in order toreëstablish our geodesic signals which the storms had overset. 

I was at Valencia towards the middle of October, 1806. One morning earlythe French consul entered my room quite alarmed: "Here is sad news, "said M. Lanusse to me; "make preparations for your departure; the wholetown is in agitation; a declaration of war against France has just beenpublished; it appears that we have experienced a great disaster inPrussia. The Queen, we are assured, has put herself at the head of thecavalry and of the royal guard; a part of the French army has been cutto pieces; the rest is completely routed. Our lives would not be insafety if we remained here; the French ambassador at Madrid will informme as soon as an American vessel now at anchor in the 'Grao' of Valenciacan take us on board, and I will let you know as soon as the moment iscome. " This moment never came; for a few days afterwards the false news, which one must suppose had dictated the proclamation of the Prince ofthe Peace, was replaced by the bulletin of the battle of Jéna. Peoplewho at first played the braggart and threatened to root us out, suddenlybecame disgracefully cast down; we could walk in the town, holding upour heads, without fear henceforth of being insulted. 

This proclamation, in which they spoke of the critical circumstances inwhich the Spanish nation was placed; of the difficulties whichencompassed this people; of the safety of their native country; oflaurels, and of the god of victory; of enemies with whom they ought tofight;--did not contain the name of France. They availed themselves ofthis omission (will it be believed?) to maintain that it was directedagainst Portugal. 

Napoleon pretended to believe in this absurd interpretation; but fromthis moment it became evident that Spain would sooner or later beobliged to render a strict account of the warlike intentions which shehad suddenly evinced in 1806; this, without justifying the events ofBayonne, explains them in a very natural way. 

I was expecting M. Biot at Valencia, he having undertaken to bring somenew instruments with which we were to measure the latitude ofFormentera. I shall take advantage of these short intervals of repose toinsert here some details of manners, which may, perhaps, be read withinterest. 

I will recount, in the first instance, an adventure which nearly cost memy life under somewhat singular circumstances. 

One day, as a recreation, I thought I could go, with afellow-countryman, to the fair at Murviedro, the ancient Saguntum, whichthey told me was very curious. I met in the town the daughter of aFrenchman resident at Valencia, Madlle. B----. All the hotels werecrowded; Madlle. B---- invited us to take some refreshments at hergrandmother's; we accepted; but on leaving the house she informed usthat our visit had not been to the taste of her betrothed, and that wemust be prepared for some sort of attack on his part; we went directlyto an armourer's, bought some pistols, and commenced our return toValencia. 

On our way I said to the calezero (driver), a man whom I had employedfor a long time, and who was much devoted to me:--

"Isidro, I have some reason to believe that we shall be stopped; I warnyou of it, so that you may not be surprised at the shots which will befired from the caleza (vehicle). "

Isidro, seated on the shaft, according to the custom of the country, answered:--

"Your pistols are completely useless, gentlemen; leave me to act; onecry will be enough; my mule will rid us of two, three, or even fourmen. "

Scarcely one minute had elapsed after the calezero had uttered thesewords, when two men presented themselves before the mule and seized herby the nostrils. At the same instant a formidable cry, which will neverbe effaced from my remembrance, --the cry of _Capitana!_--was uttered byIsidro. The mule reared up almost vertically, raising up one of the men, came down again, and set off at a rapid gallop. The jolt which thecarriage made led us to understand too well what had just occurred. Along silence succeeded this incident; it was only interrupted by thesewords of the calezero, "Do you not think, gentlemen, that my mule isworth more than any pistols?"

The next day the captain-general, Don Domingo Izquierdo, related to methat a man had been found crushed on the road to Murviedro. I gave himan account of the prowess of Isidro's mule, and no more was said. 

One anecdote, taken from among a thousand, will show what an adventurouslife was led by the delegate of the _Bureau of Longitude_. 

During my stay on a mountain near Cullera, to the north of the mouth ofthe river Xucar, and to the south of the Albuféra, I once conceived theproject of establishing a station on the high mountains which are infront of it. I went to see them. The alcaid of one of the neighbouringvillages warned me of the danger to which I was about to expose myself. "These mountains, " said he to me, "form the resort of a band of highwayrobbers. " I asked for the national guard, as I had the power to do so. My escort was supposed by the robbers to be an expedition directedagainst them, and they dispersed themselves at once over the rich plainwhich is watered by the Xucar. On my return I found them engaged incombat with the authorities of Cullera. Wounds had been given on bothsides, and, if I recollect right, one alguazil was left dead on theplain. 

The next morning I regained my station. The following night was ahorrible one; the rain fell in a deluge. Towards night, there wasknocking at my cabin door. To the question "Who is there?" the answerwas, "A custom-house guard, who asks of you a shelter for some hours. "My servant having opened the door to him, I saw a magnificent man enter, armed to the teeth. He laid himself down on the earth, and went tosleep. In the morning, as I was chatting with him at the door of mycabin, his eyes flashed on seeing two persons on the slope of themountain, the alcaid of Cullera and his principal alguazil, who werecoming to pay me a visit. "Sir, " cried he, "nothing less than thegratitude which I owe to you, on account of the service which you haverendered to me this night, could prevent my seizing this occasion forridding myself, by one shot of this carabine, of my most cruel enemy. Adieu, sir!" And he departed, springing from rock to rock as light as agazelle. 

On reaching the cabin, the alcaid and his alguazil recognized in thefugitive the chief of all the brigands in the country. 

Some days afterwards, the weather having again become very bad, Ireceived a second visit from the pretended custom-house guard, who wentsoundly to sleep in my cabin. I saw that my servant, an old soldier, whohad heard the recital of the deeds and behaviour of this man, waspreparing to kill him. I jumped down from my camp bed, and, seizing myservant by the throat, --"Are you mad?" said I to him; "are we todischarge the duties of police in this country? Do you not see, moreover, that this would expose us to the resentment of all those whoobey the orders of this redoubted chief? And we should thus render itimpossible for us to terminate our operations. "

Next morning, when the sun rose, I had a conversation with my guest, which I will try to reproduce faithfully. 

"Your situation is perfectly known to me; I know that you are not acustom-house guard; I have learnt from certain information that you arethe chief of the robbers of the country. Tell me whether I have anything to fear from your confederates?"

"The idea of robbing you did occur to us; but we concluded that all yourfunds would be in the neighbouring towns; that you would carry no moneyto the summit of mountains, where you would not know what to do with it, and that our expedition against you could have no fruitful result. Moreover, we cannot pretend to be as strong as the King of Spain. TheKing's troops leave us quietly enough to exercise our industry; but onthe day that we molested an envoy from the Emperor of the French, theywould direct against us several regiments, and we should soon have tosuccumb. Allow me to add, that the gratitude which I owe to you is yoursurest guarantee. "

"Very well, I will trust in your words; I shall regulate my conduct byyour answer. Tell me if I can travel at night? It is fatiguing to me tomove from one station to another in the day under the burning influenceof the sun. "

"You can do so, sir; I have already given my orders to this purpose;they will not be infringed. "

Some days afterwards, I left for Denia; it was midnight, when somehorsemen rode up to me, and addressed these words to me:--

"Stop there, señor; times are hard; those who have something must aidthose who have nothing. Give us the keys of your trunks; we will onlytake your superfluities. "

I had already obeyed their orders, when it came into my head to callout--"But I have been told, that I could travel without risk. "

"What is your name, sir?"

"Don Francisco Arago. "

"_Hombre! vaya usted con Dios_ (God be with you). "

And our cavaliers, spurring away from us, rapidly lost themselves in afield of "algarrobos. "

When _my friend_ the robber of Cullera assured me that I had nothing tofear from his subordinates, he informed me at the same time that hisauthority did not extend north of Valencia. The banditti of the northernpart of the kingdom obeyed other chiefs; one of whom, after having beentaken, was condemned and hung, and his body divided into four quarters, which were fastened to posts, on four royal roads, but not withouttheir having previously been boiled in oil, to make sure of their longerpreservation. 

This barbarous custom produced no effect; for scarcely was one chiefdestroyed before another presented himself to replace him. 

Of all these brigands those had the worst reputation who carried ontheir depredations in the environs of Oropeza. The proprietors of thethree mules, on which M. Rodriguez, I, and my servant were riding oneevening in this neighbourhood, were recounting to us the "grand deeds"of these robbers, which, even in full daylight, would have made the hairof one's head stand on end, when, by the faint light of the moon, weperceived a man hiding himself behind a tree; we were six, and yet thissentry on horseback had the audacity to demand our purses or our lives:my servant, at once answered him--"You must then believe us to be verycowardly; take yourself off, or I will bring you down by one shot of mycarabine. " "I will be off, " returned the worthless fellow "but you willsoon hear news of me. " Still full of fright at the remembrance of thestories which they had just been relating, the three "arieros" besoughtus to quit the high road and cast ourselves into a wood which was on ourleft. We yielded to their proposal; but we lost our way. "Dismount, "said they, "the mules have been obeying the bridle and you have directedthem wrongly. Let us retrace our way as far as the high road, and leavethe mules to themselves, they will well know how to find their right wayagain. " Scarcely had we effected this manoeuvre, which succeededmarvellously well, when we heard a lively discussion taking place at ashort distance from us. Some were saying: "We must follow the highroad, and we shall meet with them. " Others maintained that they must getinto the wood on the left. The barking of the dogs, by which theseindividuals were accompanied, added to the tumult. During this time wepursued our way silently, more dead than alive. It was two o'clock inthe morning. All at once we saw a faint light in a solitary house; itwas like a light-house for the mariner in the midst of the tempest, andthe only means of safety which remained to us. Arrived at the door ofthe farm, we knocked and asked for hospitality. The inmates, very littlereassured, feared that we were thieves, and did not hurry themselves toopen to us. 

Impatient at the delay, I cried out, as I had received authority to doso, "In the name of the King, open to us!" They obeyed an order thusgiven; we entered pell-mell, and in the greatest haste, men and mules, into the kitchen, which was on the ground-floor; and we hurried toextinguish the lights, in order not to awaken the suspicions of thebandits who were seeking for us. Indeed, we heard them, passing andrepassing near the house, vociferating with the whole force of theirlungs against their unlucky fate. We did not quit this solitary houseuntil broad day, and we continued our route for Tortosa, not withouthaving given a suitable recompense to our hosts. I wished to know bywhat providential circumstance they happened to have a lamp burning atthat unseasonable hour. "We had killed a pig, " they told me, "in thecourse of the day, and we were busy preparing the black puddings. " Hadthe pig lived one day more, or had there been no black puddings, Ishould certainly have been no longer in this world, and I should nothave the opportunity to relate the story of the robbers of Oropeza. 

Never could I better appreciate the intelligent measure by which theconstituent assembly abolished the ancient division of France intoprovinces, and substituted its division into departments, than intraversing for my triangulation the Spanish border kingdoms ofCatalonia, Valencia, and Aragon. The inhabitants of these threeprovinces detested each other cordially, and nothing less than the bondof a common hatred was necessary to make them act simultaneously againstFrance. Such was their animosity in 1807 that I could scarcely make useat the same time of Catalonians, Aragons, and Valencians, when I movedwith my instruments from one station to another. The Valencians, inparticular, were treated by the Catalonians as a light, trifling, inconsistent people. They were in the habit of saying to me, "_En elreino de Valencia la carne es verdura, la verdura agua, los hombresmugeres, las mugeres nada_"; which may be translated thus: "In thekingdom of Valencia meat is a vegetable, vegetables are water, men arewomen, and women nothing. "

On the other hand, the Valencians, speaking of the Aragons, used to callthem "_schuros_. "

Having asked of a herdsman of this province who had brought some goatsnear to one of my stations, what was the origin of this denomination, atwhich his compatriots showed themselves so offended:

"I do not know, " said he, smiling cunningly at me, "whether I dareanswer you. " "Go on, go on, " I said to him, "I can hear anything withoutbeing angry. " "Well, the word _schuros_ means that, to our great shame, we have sometimes been governed by French kings. The sovereign, beforeassuming power, was bound to promise under oath to respect our freedomand to articulate in a loud voice the solemn words _lo Juro!_ As he didnot know how to pronounce the J he said _schuro_. Are you satisfied, señor?" I answered him, "Yes, yes. I see that vanity and pride are notdead in this country. "

Since I have just spoken of a shepherd, I will say that in Spain, theclass of individuals of both sexes destined to look after herds, appeared to me always less further removed than in France, from thepictures which the ancient poets have left us of the shepherds andshepherdesses in their pastoral poetry. The songs by which theyendeavour to while away the tedium of their monotonous life, are moreremarkable in their form and substance than in the other Europeannations to which I have had access. I never recollect without surprise, that being on a mountain situated at the junction-point of the kingdomsof Valencia, Aragon, and Catalonia, I was all at once overtaken by aviolent storm, which forced me to take refuge in my tent, and to remainthere squatting on the ground. When the storm was over and I came outfrom my retreat, I heard, to my great astonishment, on an isolated peakwhich looked down upon my station, a shepherdess who was singing a songof which I only recollect these eight lines, which will give an idea ofthe rest:--

 * * * * *

 A los que amor no saben Ofreces las dulzuras Y a mi las amarguras Que s'e lo quo es amar. 

 Las gracias al me certé Eran cuadro de flores Te cantaban amores Por hacerte callar. 

Oh! how much sap there is in this Spanish nation! What a pity that theywill not make it yield fruit!

In 1807, the tribunal of the Inquisition existed still at Valencia, andat times performed its functions. The reverend fathers, it is true, didnot burn people, but they pronounced sentences in which the ridiculouscontended with the odious. During my residence in this town, the holyoffice had to busy itself about a pretended sorceress; it doomed her togo through all quarters of the town astride on an ass, her face turnedtowards the tail, and naked down to the waist. Merely to observe thecommonest rules of decency, the poor woman had been plastered with asticky substance, partly honey, they told me, to which adhered anenormous quantity of little feathers, so that to say the truth, thevictim resembled a fowl with a human head. The procession, whetherattended by a crowd I leave it to be imagined, stationed itself for sometime in the cathedral square, where I lived. I was told that thesorceress was struck on the back a certain number of blows with ashovel; but I do not venture to affirm this, for I was absent at themoment when this hideous procession passed before my windows. 

We thus see, however, what sort of spectacles were given to the peoplein the commencement of the nineteenth century, in one of the principaltowns of Spain, the seat of a celebrated university, and the nativecountry of numerous citizens distinguished by their knowledge, theircourage, and their virtues. Let not the friends of humanity and ofcivilization disunite; let them form, on the contrary, an indissolubleunion, for superstition is always on the watch, and waits for the momentagain to seize its prey. 

I have mentioned in the course of my narrative that two Carthusiansoften left their convent in the _Desierto de las Palmas_, and came, though prohibited, to see me at my station, situated about two hundredmetres higher. A few particulars will give an idea of what certain monkswere, in the Peninsula, in 1807. 

One of them, Father Trivulce, was old; the other was very young. Theformer, of French origin, had played a part at Marseilles, in thecounter-revolutionary events of which this town was the theatre, at thecommencement of our first revolution. His part had been a very activeone; one might see the proof of this in the scars of sabre cuts whichfurrowed his breast. It was he who was the first to come. When he sawhis young comrade march up, he hid himself; but as soon as the latterhad fully entered into conversation with me, Father Trivulce showedhimself all at once. His appearance had the effect of Medusa's head. "Reassure yourself, " said he to his young compeer; "only let us notdenounce each other, for our prior is not a man to pardon us for havingcome here and infringed our vow of silence, and we should both receive apunishment, the recollection of which would long remain. " The treaty wasat once concluded, and from that day forward the two Carthusians camevery often to converse with me. 

The youngest of our two visitors was an Aragonian, his family had madehim a monk against his will. He related to me one day, before M. Biot, (then returned from Tarragon, where he had taken refuge to get cured ofhis fever, ) some particulars which, according to him, proved that inSpain there was no longer more than the ghost of religion. These detailswere mostly borrowed from the secrets of confession. M. Biot manifestedsharply the displeasure which this conversation caused him; there wereeven in his language some words which led the monk to suppose that M. Biot took him for a kind of spy. As soon as this suspicion had enteredhis mind, he quitted us without saying a word, and the next morning Isaw him come up early, armed with a light gun. The French monk hadpreceded him, and had whispered in my ear the danger that threatened mycompanion. "Join with me, " he said, "to turn the young Aragonian monkfrom his murderous project. " I need scarcely say that I employed myselfwith ardour in this negotiation, in which I had the happiness tosucceed. There were here, as must be seen, the materials for a chief of_guerilleros_. I should be much astonished if my young monk did not playhis part in the war of independence. 

The anecdote which I am about to relate will amply prove that religionwas, with the Carthusian monks of the _Desierto de las Palmas_, not theconsequence of elevated sentiments, but a mere compound of superstitiouspractices. 

The scene with the gun, always present to my mind, seemed to make itclear to me that the Aragon monk, if actuated by his passions, would becapable of the most criminal actions. Hence, I had a very disagreeableimpression when one Sunday, having come down to hear mass, I met thismonk, who, without saying a word, conducted me by a series of darkcorridors into a chapel where the daylight penetrated only by a verysmall window. There I found Father Trivulce, who prepared himself to saymass for me alone. The young monk assisted. All at once, an instantbefore the consecration, Father Trivulce, turning towards me, said theseexact words: "We have permission to say mass with white wine; wetherefore make use of that which we gather from our own vines: this wineis very good. Ask the prior to let you taste it, when on leaving thisyou go to breakfast with him. For the rest, you can assure yourself thisinstant of the truth of what I say to you. " And he presented me thegoblet to drink from. I resisted strongly, not only because I consideredit indecent to give this invitation in the middle of the mass, butbecause, besides, I must own I conceived the thought for a moment thatthe monks wished, by poisoning me, to revenge themselves on me for M. Biot having insulted them. I found that I was mistaken, that mysuspicions had no foundation; for Father Trivulce went on with theinterrupted mass, drank, and drank largely, of the white wine containedin one of the goblets. But when I had got out of the hands of the twomonks, and was able to breathe the pure air of the country, Iexperienced a lively satisfaction. 

The right of asylum accorded to some churches was one of the mostobnoxious privileges among those of which the revolution of 1789 ridFrance. In 1807, this right still existed in Spain, and belonged, Ibelieve, to all the cathedrals. I learnt, during my stay at Barcelona, that there was, in a little cloister contiguous to the largest church ofthe town, a brigand, --a man guilty of several assassinations, who livedquietly there, guaranteed against all pursuit by the sanctity of theplace. I wished to assure myself with my own eyes of the reality of thefact, and I went with my friend Rodriguez into the little cloister inquestion. The assassin was then eating a meal which a woman had justbrought him. He easily guessed the object of our visit, and madeimmediately such demonstrations as convinced us that, if the asylum wassafe for the robber, it would not be so long for us. We retired at once, deploring that, in a country calling itself civilized, there shouldstill exist such crying, such monstrous abuses. 

In order to succeed in our geodesic operations, to obtain thecöoperation of the inhabitants of the villages near our stations, it wasdesirable for us to be recommended to the priests. We went, therefore, --M. Lanusse, the French Vice-Consul, M. Biot, and I, --to paya visit to the Archbishop of Valencia, to solicit his protection. Thisarchbishop, a man of very tall figure, was then chief of theFranciscans; his costume more than negligent, his gray robe, coveredwith tobacco, contrasted with the magnificence of the archiepiscopalpalace. He received us with kindness, and promised us all therecommendations we desired; but, at the moment of taking leave of him, the whole affair seemed to be spoiled. M. Lanusse and M. Biot went outof the reception room without kissing the hand of his grace, although hehad presented it to each of them very graciously. The archbishopindemnified himself on my poor person. A movement, which was very nearbreaking my teeth, a gesture which I might justly call a blow of thefist, proved to me that the chief of the Franciscans, notwithstandinghis vow of humility, had taken offence at the want of ceremony in myfellow visitors. I was going to complain of the abrupt way in which hehad treated me, but I had the necessities of our trigonometricaloperations before my eyes, and I was silent. 

Besides this, at the instant when the closed fist of the archbishop wasapplied to my lips, I was still thinking of the beautiful opticalexperiments which it would have been possible to make with themagnificent stone which ornamented his pastoral ring. This idea, I mustfrankly declare, had preoccupied me during the whole of the visit. 

M. Biot having at last come to seek me again at Valencia, where Iexpected, as I have before said, some new instruments, we went on toFormentera, the southern extremity of our arc, of which place wedetermined the latitude. M. Biot quitted me afterwards to return toParis, whilst I made the geodesical junction of the island of Majorca toIviza, and to Formentera, obtaining thus, by means of one singletriangle, the measure of an arc of parallel of one degree and a half. 

I then went to Majorca, to measure there the latitude and the azimuth. 

At this epoch, the political fermentation, engendered by the entrance ofthe French into Spain, began to invade the whole Peninsula and theislands dependent on it. This ferment had as yet in Majorca only reachedto the ministers, the partisans, and the relations of the Prince ofPeace. Each evening, I saw, drawn in triumph in the square of Palma, thecapital of the island of Majorca, on carriages, the effigies in flames, sometimes of the minister Soller, another time those of the bishop, andeven those of private individuals supposed to be attached to thefortunes of the favourite Godoï. I was far from suspecting then that myturn would soon arrive. 

My station at Majorca, the _Clop de Galazo_, a very high mountain, wassituated exactly over the port where _Don Jayme el Conquistator_disembarked when he went to deliver the Balearic Islands from the Moors. The report spread itself through the population that I had establishedmyself there in order to favour the arrival of the French army, and thatevery evening I made signals to it. But these reports had nothingmenacing until the moment of the arrival at Palma, the 27th of May, 1808, of an ordnance officer from Napoleon. This officer was M. Berthémie; he carried to the Spanish squadron, at Mahon, the order to goin all haste to Toulon. A general rising, which placed the life of thisofficer in danger, followed the news of his mission. The Captain-GeneralVivés only saved his life by shutting him up in the strong castle ofBelver. They then bethought themselves of the Frenchman established onthe _Clop de Galazo_, and formed a popular expedition to go and seizehim. 

M. Damian, the owner of a small kind of vessel called a Mistic, whichthe Spanish Government had placed at my disposal, was beforehand withthem, and brought me a costume by means of which I disguised myself. Indirecting myself towards Palma, in company with this brave seaman, wemet with the rioters who were going in search of me. They did notrecognize me, for I spoke Majorcan perfectly. I strongly encouraged themen of this detachment to continue their route, and I pursued my waytowards Palma. At night I went on board the Mistic, commanded by DonManuel de Vacaro, whom the Spanish Government had placed under myorders. I asked this officer if he would conduct me to Barcelona, occupied by the French, promising him that if they made any attempt tokeep him there, I would at once return and surrender myself a prisoner. 

Don Manuel, who up to this time had shown extreme obsequiousness towardsme, had now no words but those of rudeness and distrust. There occurredon the pier where the Mistic was moored a riotous movement, which Vacaroassured me was directed against me. "Do not be uneasy, " said he to me;"if they should penetrate into the vessel you can hide yourself in thistrunk. " I made the attempt; but the chest which he showed me was sosmall that my legs were entirely outside, and the cover could not beshut down. I understood perfectly what that meant, and I asked M. Vacaroto let me also be shut up in the castle of Belver. The order forincarceration having arrived from the captain-general, I got into theboat, where the sailors of the Mistic received me with emotion. 

At the moment of their crossing the harbour the populace perceived me, commenced a pursuit, and it was not without much difficulty that Ireached Belver safe and sound. I had only, indeed, received on my wayone slight wound from a dagger in the thigh. Prisoners have often beenseen to run with all speed _from_ their dungeon; I am the first, perhaps, to whom it has happened to do the reverse. This took place onthe 1st or 2d of June, 1808. 

The governor of Belver was a very extraordinary personage. If he isstill alive he may demand of me a certificate as to his priority to themodern hydropathists; the grenadier-captain maintained that pure water, suitably administered, was a means of treatment for all illnesses, evenfor amputations. By listening very patiently to his theories, and neverinterrupting him, I won his good opinion. It was at his request, andfrom interest in our safety, that a Swiss garrison replaced the Spanishtroop which until then had been employed as the guard of Belver. It wasalso through him that I one day learnt that a monk had proposed to thesoldiers who went to bring my food from the town, to put some poisoninto one of the dishes. 

All my old Majorcan friends had abandoned me at the moment of mydetention. I had had a very sharp correspondence with Don Manuel deVacaro in order to obtain the restitution of the passport of safetywhich the English Admiralty had granted to us. M. Rodriguez aloneventured to visit me in full daylight, and bring me every consolation inhis power. 

The excellent M. Rodriguez, to while away the monotony of myincarceration, remitted to me from time to time the journals which werethen published at different parts of the Peninsula. He often sent themto me without reading them. Once I saw in these journals the recital ofthe horrible massacres of which the town of Valencia--I make a mistake, the _square of the Bull-fights_--had been the theatre, and in whichnearly the whole of the French established in this town (more than 350)had disappeared under the pike of the bull-fighter. Another journalcontained an article bearing this title: "Relacion de la ahorcadura delseñor Arago e del señor Berthémie, "--literally, "Account of theexecution of M. Arago and M. Berthémie. " This account spoke of the twoexecuted men in very different terms. M. Berthémie was a Huguenot; hehad been deaf to all exhortations; he had spit in the face of theecclesiastic who was present, and even on the image of Christ. As forme, I had conducted myself with much decency, and had allowed myself tobe hung without giving rise to any scandal. The writer also expressedhis regret that a young astronomer had been so weak as to associatehimself with treason, coming under the disguise of science to assist theentrance of the French army into a friendly kingdom. 

After reading this article I immediately made my decision: "Since theytalk of my death, " said I to my friend Rodriguez, "the event will not belong in coming. I should prefer being drowned to being hung. I will makemy escape from this fortress; it is for you to furnish me with themeans. "

Rodriguez, knowing better than any one how well founded my apprehensionswere, set himself at once to the work. 

He went to the captain-general, and made him feel what would be thedanger of his position if I should disappear in a popular riot, or evenif he were forced to give me up. His observations were so much thebetter comprehended, as no one could then predict what might be theissue of the Spanish revolution. "I will undertake, " said thecaptain-general Vivés to my colleague Rodriguez, "to give an order tothe commander of the fortress, that when the right moment arrives, heshall allow M. Arago, and even the two or three other Frenchmen who arewith him in the castle of Belver, to pass out. They will then have noneed of the means of escape which they have procured; but I will take nopart in the preparations which will become necessary to enable thefugitives to leave the island; I leave all that to your responsibility. "

Rodriguez immediately conferred secretly with the brave commanderDamian. It was agreed between them that Damian should take the commandof a half-decked boat, which the wind had driven ashore; that he shouldequip it as if for a fishing expedition; that he should carry us toAlgiers; after which his reëntrance at Palmas, with or without fish, would inspire no suspicion. 

All was executed according to agreement, notwithstanding theinquisitorial surveillance which Don Manuel de Vacaro exercised over thecommander of his "Mistic. "

On the 28th July, 1808, we silently descended the hill on which Belveris built, at the same moment that the family of the minister Sollerentered the fortress to escape the fury of the populace. Arrived at theshore, we found there Damian, his boat, and three sailors. We embarkedat once, and set sail. Damian had taken the precaution of bringing withus in this frail vessel the instruments of value which he had carriedoff from my station at the Clop de Galazo. The sea was unfavourable;Damian thought it prudent to stop at the little island of Cabrera, destined to become a short time afterwards so sadly celebrated by thesufferings which the soldiers of the army of Dupont experienced afterthe shameful capitulation of Baylen. There a singular incident was verynear compromising all. Cabrera, tolerably near to the southern extremityof Majorca, is often visited by fishermen coming from that part of theisland. M. Berthémie feared, justly enough, that the rumour of ourescape having spread about, they might dispatch some boats to seize us. He looked upon our going into harbour as inopportune; I maintained thatwe must yield to the prudence of the commander. During this discussion, the three seamen whom Damian had engaged saw that M. Berthémie, whom Ihad endeavoured to pass off as my servant, maintained his opinionagainst me on a footing of equality. They then addressed themselves inthese terms to the commander:--

"We only consented to take part in this expedition upon condition thatthe Emperor's aide-de-camp, shut up at Belver, should not be of thenumber of those persons whom we should help off. We only wished to aidthe flight of the astronomer. Since it seems to be otherwise, you mustleave this officer here, unless you would prefer to throw him into thesea. "

Damian at once informed me of the imperative wishes of his boat's crew. M. Berthémie agreed with me to suffer some abuse such as could only betolerated by a servant threatened by his master; all the suspicionsdisappeared. 

Damian, who feared also for himself the arrival of Majorcan fishermen, hastened to set sail on the 29th of July, 1808, the first moment thatwas favourable, and we arrived at Algiers on the 3d of August. 

Our looks were anxiously directed towards the port, to guess whatreception might await us. We were reassured by the sight of thetri-coloured flag, which was flying on two or three buildings. But wewere mistaken; these buildings were Dutch. Immediately upon ourentrance, a Spaniard, whom, from his tone of authority, we took for ahigh functionary of the Regency, came up to Damian, and asked him: "Whatdo you bring?" "I bring, " answered the commander, "four Frenchmen. " "Youwill at once take them back again. I prohibit you from disembarking. " Aswe did not seem inclined to obey his order, our Spaniard, who was theconstructing engineer of the ships of the Dey, armed himself with apole, and commenced battering us with blows. But immediately a Genoeseseaman, mounted on a neighbouring vessel, armed himself with an oar, andstruck our assailant both with edge and point. During this animatedcombat we managed to land without any opposition. We had conceived asingular idea of the manner in which the police act on the coast ofAfrica. 

We pursued our way to the French Consul's, M. Dubois Thainville. He wasat his country house. Escorted by the janissary of the consulate, wewent off towards this country house, one of the ancient residences ofthe Dey, situated not far from the gate of Bab-azoum. The consul and hisfamily received us with great amity, and offered us hospitality. 

Suddenly transported to a new continent, I looked forward anxiously tothe rising of the sun to enjoy all that Africa might offer of interestto a European, when all at once I believed myself to be engaged in aserious adventure. By the faint light of the dawn, I saw an animalmoving at the foot of my bed. I gave a kick with my foot: all movementceased. After some time, I felt the same movement made under my legs. Asharp jerk made this cease quickly. I then heard the fits of laughter ofthe janissary, who lay on the couch in the same room as I did; and Isoon saw that he had simply placed on my bed a large hedgehog to amusehimself by my uneasiness. 

The consul occupied himself the next day in procuring a passage for uson board a vessel of the Regency which was going to Marseilles. M. Ferrier, the Chancellor of the French Consulate, was at the same timeConsul for Austria. He procured for us two false passports, whichtransformed us--M. Berthémie and me--into two strolling merchants, theone from _Schwekat_, in Hungary, the other from _Leoben_. 

The moment of departure had arrived; the 13th of August, 1808, we wereon board, but our ship's company was not complete. The captain, whosetitle was Raï Braham Ouled Mustapha Goja, having perceived that the Deywas on his terrace, and fearing punishment if he should delay to setsail, completed his crew at the expense of the idlers who were lookingon from the pier, and of whom the greater part were not sailors. Thesepoor people begged as a favour for permission to go and inform theirfamilies of this precipitate departure, and to get some clothes. Thecaptain remained deaf to their remonstrances. We weighed anchor. 

The vessel belonged to the Emir of Seca, Director of the Mint. The realcommander was a Greek captain, named Spiro Calligero. The cargoconsisted of a great number of _groups_. Amongst the passengers therewere five members of the family which the Bakri had succeeded as kingsof the Jews; two ostrich-feather merchants, Moroccans; Captain Krog, from Berghen in Norway, who had sold his ship at Alicant; two lions sentby the Dey to the emperor Napoleon, and a great number of monkeys. Ourvoyage was prosperous. Off Sardinia we met with an American ship comingout from Cagliari. A cannon-shot (we were armed with forty pieces ofsmall power) warned the captain to come to be recognized. He brought onboard a certain number of counterparts of passports, one of which agreedperfectly with that which we carried. The captain being thus all right, was not a little astonished when I ordered him, in the name of CaptainBraham, to furnish us with tea, coffee, and sugar. The American captainprotested; he called us brigands, pirates, robbers. Captain Brahamadmitted without difficulty all these qualifications, and persisted nonethe less in the exaction of sugar, coffee, and tea. 

The American, then driven to the last stage of exasperation, addressedhimself to me, who acted as interpreter, and cried out, "Oh! rogue of arenegade! if ever I meet you on holy ground I will break your head. ""Can you then suppose, " I answered him, "that I am here for my pleasure, and that, notwithstanding your menace, I would not rather go with you, if I could?" These words calmed him; he brought the sugar, the coffee, and the tea claimed by the Moorish chief, and we again set sail, thoughwithout having exchanged the usual farewell. 

We had already entered the Gulf of Lyons, and were approachingMarseilles, when on the 16th August, 1808, we met with a Spanish corsairfrom Palamos, armed at the prow with two twenty-four pounders. We madefull sail; we hoped to escape it: but a cannon-shot, a ball from whichwent through our sails, taught us that she was a much better sailer thanwe were. 

We obeyed an injunction thus expressed, and awaited the great boat fromthe corsair. The captain declared that he made us prisoners, althoughSpain was at peace with Barbary, under the pretext that we wereviolating the blockade which had been lately raised on all the coasts ofFrance: he added, that he intended to take us to Rosas, and that therethe authorities would decide on our fate. 

I was in the cabin of the vessel; I had the curiosity to look furtivelyat the crew of the boat, and there I perceived, with a dissatisfactionwhich may easily be imagined, one of the sailors of the "Mistic, "commanded by Don Manuel de Vacaro, of the name of Pablo Blanco, ofPalamos, who had often acted as my servant during my geodesicoperations. My false passport would become from this moment useless, ifPablo should recognize me: I went to bed at once, covered my head withthe counterpane, and lay as still as a statue. 

During the two days which elapsed between our capture and our entranceinto the roads of Rosas, Pablo, whose curiosity often brought him intothe room, used to exclaim, "There is one passenger whom I have not yetmanaged to get a sight of. "

When we arrived at Rosas it was decided that we should be placed inquarantine in a dismantled windmill, situated on the road leading toFigueras. I was careful to disembark in a boat to which Pablo did notbelong. The corsair departed for a new cruise, and I was for a momentfreed from the harassing thoughts which my old servant had caused me. 

Our ship was richly laden; the Spanish authorities were immediatelydesirous to declare it a lawful prize. They pretended to believe that Iwas the proprietor of it, and wished, in order to hasten things, tointerrogate me, even without awaiting the completion of the quarantine. They stretched two cords between the mill and the shore, and a judgeplaced himself in front of me. As the interrogatories were made from agood distance, the numerous audience which encircled us took a directpart in the questions and answers. I will endeavour to reproduce thisdialogue with all possible fidelity:--

"Who are you?"

"A poor roving merchant. "

"Whence do you come?"

"From a country where you certainly never were. "

"In a word, what country is it?"

I was afraid to answer, for the passports, steeped in vinegar, were inthe hands of the judge-instructor, and I had forgotten whether I wasfrom Schwekat or from Leoben. Finally I answered at all hazards:--

"I come from Schwekat. "

And this information happily was found to agree with that of thepassport. 

"You are as much from Schwekat as I am, " answered the judge. "You areSpanish, and, moreover, a Spaniard from the kingdom of Valencia, as Iperceive by your accent. "

"Would you punish me, sir, because nature has endowed me with the giftof languages? I learn with facility the dialects of those countriesthrough which I pass in the exercise of my trade; I have learnt, forexample, the dialect of Iviza. "

"Very well, you shall be taken at your word. I see here a soldier fromIviza; you shall hold a conversation with him. "

"I consent; I will even sing the goat song. "

Each of the verses of this song (if verses they be) terminates by animitation of the bleating of the goat. 

I commenced at once, with an audacity at which I really feel astonished, to chant this air, which is sung by all the shepherds of the island. 

 Ah graciada señora Una canzo bouil canta Bè, bè, bè, bè. 

 No sera gaira pulida Nosé si vos agradara Bè, bè, bè, bè. 

At once my Ivizacan, upon whom this air had the effect of the _ranz desvaches_ on the Swiss, declared, all in tears, that I was a native ofIviza. 

I then said to the judge that if he would put me in communication with aperson knowing the French language, he would arrive at just asembarrassing a result. An _émigré_ officer of the Bourbon regimentoffered at once to make the experiment, and, after some phrasesinterchanged between us, affirmed without hesitation that I was French. 

The judge, rendered impatient, exclaimed, "Let us put an end to thesetrials which decide nothing. I summon you, sir, to tell me who you are. I promise that your life will be safe if you answer me with sincerity. 

"My greatest wish would be to give an answer to your satisfaction. Iwill, then, try to do so; but I warn you that I am not going to tell youthe truth. I am son of the innkeeper at Mataro. " "I know that innkeeper;you are not his son. " "You are right. I announced to you that I shouldvary my answers until one of them should suit you. I retract then, andtell you that I am a _titiretero_, (player of marionettes, ) and that Ipractised at Lerida. "

A loud shout of laughter from the multitude encircling us greeted thisanswer, and put an end to the questions. 

"I swear by the d----l, " exclaimed the judge, "that I will discoversooner or later who you are!"

And he retired. 

The Arabs, the Moroccans, the Jews, who witnessed this interrogatory, understood nothing of it; they had only seen that I had not allowedmyself to be intimidated. At the close of the interview they came tokiss my hand, and gave me, from this moment, their entire confidence. 

I became their secretary for all the individual or collectiveremonstrances which they thought they had a right to address to theSpanish Government; and this right was incontestable. Every day I wasoccupied in drawing up petitions, especially in the name of the twoostrich-feather merchants, one of whom called himself a tolerably nearrelation of the Emperor of Morocco. Astonished at the rapidity withwhich I filled a page of my writing, they imagined, doubtless, that Ishould write as fast in Arabic characters, when it should be requisiteto transcribe passages from the Koran; and that this would form both forme and for them the source of a brilliant fortune, and they besought me, in the most earnest way, to become a Mahometan. 

Very little reassured by the last words of the judge, I sought means ofsafety from another quarter. 

I was the possessor of a safe-conduct from the English Admiralty; Itherefore wrote a confidential letter to the captain of an Englishvessel, The Eagle, I think, which had cast anchor some days before inthe roads at Rosas. I explained to him my position. "You can, " I said tohim, "claim me, because I have an English passport. If this proceedingshould cost you too much, have the goodness at least to take mymanuscripts and to send them to the Royal Society in London. "

One of the soldiers who guarded us, and in whom I had fortunatelyinspired some interest, undertook to deliver my letter. The Englishcaptain came to see me; his name was, if my memory is right, GeorgeEyre. We had a private conversation on the shore. George Eyre thought, perhaps, that the manuscripts of my observations were contained in aregister bound in morocco, and with gilt edges to the leaves. When hesaw that these manuscripts were composed of single leaves, covered withfigures, which I had hidden under my shirt, disdain succeeded tointerest, and he quitted me hastily. Having returned on board, he wroteme a letter which I could find if needful, in which he said to me, --"Icannot mix myself up in your affairs; address yourself to the SpanishGovernment; I am persuaded that it will do justice to yourremonstrance, and will not molest you. " As I had not the same persuasionas Captain George Eyre, I chose to take no notice of his advice. 

I ought to mention that some time after having related these particularsin England, at Sir Joseph Banks's, the conduct of George Eyre wasseverely blamed; but when a man breakfasts and dines to the sound ofharmonious music, can he accord his interest to a poor devil sleeping onstraw and nibbled by vermin, even though he have manuscripts under hisshirt? I may add that I (unfortunately for me) had to do with a captainof an unusual character. For, some days later, a new vessel, TheColossus, having arrived in the roads, the Norwegian, Captain Krog, although he had not, like me, an Admiralty passport, made an applicationto the commander of this new ship; he was immediately claimed, andrelieved from captivity. 

The report that I was a Spanish deserter, and proprietor of the vessel, acquiring more and more credit, and this position being the mostdangerous of all, I resolved to get out of it. I begged the commandantof the place, M. Alloy, to come to receive my declaration, and Iannounced to him that I was French. To prove to him the truth of mywords, I invited him to send for Pablo Blanco, the sailor in the serviceof the corsair who took us, and who had returned from his cruise a shorttime before. This was done as I wished. In disembarking, Pablo Blanco, who had not been warned, exclaimed with surprise: "What! you, DonFrancisco, mixed up with all these miscreants!" The sailor gave theGovernor circumstantial evidence as to the mission which I fulfilledwith two Spanish commissaries. My nationality thus became proved. 

That same day Alloy was replaced in the command of the fortress by theIrish Colonel of the Ultonian regiment; the corsair left for a freshcruise, taking away Pablo Blanco; and I became once more the rovingmerchant from Schwekat. 

From the windmill, where we underwent our quarantine, I could see thetricoloured flag flying on the fortress of Figueras. The reconnoitringparties of the cavalry came sometimes within five or six hundred metres;it would not then have been difficult for me to escape. However, as theregulations against those who violate the sanitary laws are veryrigorous in Spain, as they pronounce the penalty of death against himwho infringes them, I only determined to make my escape on the eve ofour admission to pratique. 

The night being come I crept on all-fours along the briars, and I shouldsoon have got beyond the line of sentinels who guarded us. A noisyuproar which I heard among the Moors made me determine to reënter, and Ifound these poor people in an unspeakable state of uneasiness, thinkingthemselves lost if I left; I therefore remained. 

The next day a strong picquet of troops presented itself before themill. The manoeuvres made by it inspired all of us with anxiety, butespecially Captain Krog. [3] "What will they do with us?" he exclaimed. "Alas! you will see only too soon, " replied the Spanish officer. Thisanswer made every one believe that they were going to shoot us. Whatmight have strengthened me in this idea was the obstinacy with whichCaptain Krog and two other individuals of small size hid themselvesbehind me. A handling of arms made us think that we had but a fewseconds to live. 

In analyzing the feelings which I experienced on this solemn occasion, Ihave come to the conclusion that the man who is led to death is not asunhappy as the public imagines him to be. Fifty ideas presentedthemselves nearly simultaneously to my mind, and I did not rack my brainfor any of them; I only recollect the two following, which have remainedengraved on my memory. On turning my head to the right, I saw thenational flag flying on the bastions of Figueras, and I said to myself, "If I were to move a few hundred metres, I should be surrounded bycomrades, by friends, by fellow citizens, who would receive meaffectionately. Here, without their being able to impute any crime tome, I am going to suffer death at twenty-two years of age. " But whatagitated me more deeply was this: looking towards the Pyrenees, I coulddistinctly see their peaks, and I reflected that my mother, on the otherside of the chain, might at this awful moment be looking peaceably atthem. 

The Spanish authorities, finding that to redeem my life I would notdeclare myself the owner of the vessel, had us conducted without farthermolestation to the fortress of Rosas. Having to file through nearly allthe inhabitants of the town, I had wished at first, through a falsefeeling of shame, to leave in the mill the remains of our week's meals. But M. Berthémie, more prudent than I, carried over his shoulder a greatquantity of pieces of black bread, tied up with packthread. I imitatedhim. I furnished myself famously from our old stock, set it on myshoulder, and it was with this accoutrement that I made my entrance intothe famous fortress. 

They placed us in a casemate, where we had barely the space necessaryfor lying down. In the windmill, they used to bring us, from time totime, some provisions, which came from our boat. Here, the Spanishgovernment purveyed our food. We received every day some bread and aration of rice; but as we had no means of dressing food, we were inreality reduced to dry bread. 

Dry bread was very unsubstantial food for one who could see from hiscasemate, at the door of his prison, a sutler selling grapes at twofarthings a pound, and cooking, under the shelter of half a cask, baconand herrings; but we had no money to bring us into connection with thismerchant. I then decided, though with very great regret, to sell a watchwhich my father had given me. I was only offered about a quarter of itsvalue; but I might well accept it, since there were no competitors forit. 

As possessors of sixty francs, M. Berthémie and I could now appease thehunger from which we had long suffered; but we did not like this returnof fortune to be profitable to ourselves alone, and we made somepresents, which were very well received by our companions in captivity. Though this sale of my watch brought some comfort to us, it was doomedat a later period to plunge a family into sorrow. 

The town of Rosas fell into the power of the French after a courageousresistance. The prisoners of the garrison were sent to France, andnaturally passed through Perpignan. My father went in quest of newswherever Spaniards were to be found. He entered a café at the momentwhen a prisoner officer drew from his fob the watch which I had sold atRosas. My good father saw in this act the proof of my death, and fellinto a swoon. The officer had got the watch from a third party, andcould give no account of the fate of the person to whom it hadoriginally belonged. 

The casemate having become necessary to the defenders of the fortress, we were taken to a little chapel, where they deposited for twenty-fourhours those who had died in the hospital. There we were guarded bypeasants who had come across the mountain, from various villages, andparticularly from Cadaquès. These peasants, eager to recount all thatthey had seen of interest during their one day's campaign, questioned meas to the deeds and behaviour of all my companions in misfortune. Isatisfied their curiosity amply, being the only one of the set who couldspeak Spanish. 

To enlist their good will, I also questioned them at length upon thesubject of their village, on the work that they did there, on smuggling, their principal sources of employment, &c. &c. They answered myquestions with the loquacity common to country rustics. The next day ourguards were replaced by some others who were inhabitants of the samevillage. "In my business of a roving merchant, " I said to these last, "Ihave been at Cadaquès;" and then I began to talk to them of what I hadlearnt the night before, of such an individual, who gave himself up tosmuggling with more success than others, of his beautiful residence, ofthe property which he possessed near the village, --in short, of a numberof particulars which it seemed impossible for any but an inhabitant ofCadaquès to know. My jest produced an unexpected effect. Suchcircumstantial details, our guards said to themselves, cannot be knownby a roving merchant; this personage, whom we have found here in suchsingular society, is certainly a native of Cadaquès; and the son of theapothecary must be about his age. He had gone to try his fortune inAmerica; it is evidently he who fears to make himself known, having beenfound with all his riches in a vessel on its way to France. The reportspread, became more consistent, and reached the ears of a sister of theapothecary established at Rosas. She runs to me, believes she recognizesme, and falls on my neck. I protest against the identity. "Well played!"said she to me; "the case is serious, as you have been found in a vesselcoming to France; persist in your denial; circumstances may perhaps takea more favourable turn, and I shall profit by them to insure yourdeliverance. In the mean time, my dear nephew, I will let you want fornothing. " And truly every morning M. Berthémie and I received acomfortable repast. 

The church having become necessary to the garrison to serve as amagazine, we were moved on the 25th of September, 1808, to a Trinityfort, called the _Bouton de Rosas_, a citadel situated on a littlemountain at the entrance of the roads, and we were deposited deep underground, where the light of day did not penetrate on any side. We did notlong remain in this infected place, not because they had pity upon us, but because it offered shelter for a part of the garrison attacked bythe French. They made us descend by night to the edge of the sea, andthen transported us on the 17th of October to the port of Palamos. Wewere shut up in a hulk; we enjoyed, however, a certain degree ofliberty;--they allowed us to go on land, and to parade our miseries andour rags in the town. It was there that I made the acquaintance of thedowager Duchess of Orleans, mother of Louis Philippe. She had left thetown of Figueras, where she resided, because, she told me, thirty-twobombs sent from the fortress had fallen in her house. She was thenintending to take refuge in Algiers, and she asked me to bring thecaptain of the vessel to her, of whom, perhaps, she would have toimplore protection. I related to my "_raïs_" the misfortunes of thePrincess; he was moved by them, and I conducted him to her. On entering, he took off his slippers from respect, as if he had entered within amosque, and holding them in his hand, he went to kiss the front of thedress of Madame d'Orleans. The Princess Was alarmed at the sight of thismanly figure, wearing the longest beard I ever saw; she quicklyrecovered herself, and the interview proceeded with a mixture of Frenchpoliteness and Oriental courtesy. 

The sixty francs from Rosas were expended. Madame D'Orleans would haveliked much to assist us, but she was herself without money. All that shecould gratify us with was a piece of sugarbread. The evening of ourvisit I was richer than the Princess. To avoid the fury of the peoplethe Spanish Government sent those French who had escaped the firstmassacres back to France in slight boats. One of the _cartels_ came andcast anchor by the side of our hulk. One of the unhappy emigrantsoffered me a pinch of snuff. On opening the snuff-box I found there"_una onza de oro_, " (an ounce of gold, ) the sole remains of hisfortune. I returned the snuff-box to him, with warm thanks, after havingshut up in it a paper containing these words:--"My fellow-countryman whocarries this note has rendered me a great service;--treat him as one ofyour children. " My petition was naturally favourably received; it was bythis bit of paper, the size of the _onza de oro_, that my family learntthat I was still in existence, and it enabled my mother--a model ofpiety--to cease saying masses for the repose of my soul. 

Five days afterwards, one of my hardy compatriots arrived at Palamos, after having traversed the line of posts both French and Spanish, carrying to a merchant who had friends at Perpignan the proposal tofurnish me with all I was in need of. The Spaniard showed a greatinclination to agree to the proposal; but I did not profit by his goodwill, because of the occurrence of events which I shall relatepresently. 

The Observatory at Paris is very near the barrier. In my youth, curiousto study the manners of the people, I used to walk in sight of thepublic-houses which the desire of escaping payment of the duty hasmultiplied outside the walls of the capital; on these excursions I wasoften humiliated to see men disputing for a piece of bread, just asanimals might have done. My feelings on this subject have very muchaltered since I have been personally exposed to the tortures of hunger. I have discovered, in fact, that a man, whatever may have been hisorigin, his education, and his habits, is governed, under certaincircumstances, much more by his stomach than by his intelligence and hisheart. Here is the fact which suggested these reflections to me. 

To celebrate the unhoped-for arrival of _una onza de oro_, M. Berthémieand I had procured an immense dish of potatoes. The ordnance officer ofthe Emperor was already devouring it with his eyes, when a Moroccan, whowas making his ablutions near us with one of his companions, accidentally filled it with dirt. M. Berthémie could not control hisanger; he darted upon the clumsy Mussulman, and inflicted upon him arough punishment. 

I remained a passive spectator of the combat, until the second Moroccancame to the aid of his compatriot. The party no longer being equal, Ialso took part in the conflict by seizing the new assailant by thebeard. The combat ceased at once, because the Moroccan would not raisehis hand against a man who could write a petition so rapidly. Thisconflict, like the struggles of which I had often been a witness outsidethe barriers of Paris, had originated in a dish of potatoes. 

The Spaniards always cherished the idea that the ship and her cargomight be confiscated; a commission came from Girone to question us. Itwas composed of two civil judges and one inquisitor. I acted asinterpreter. When M. Berthémie's turn came, I went to fetch him, andsaid to him, "Pretend that you can only talk Styrian, and be at ease; Iwill not compromise you in translating your answers. "

It was done as we had agreed; unfortunately the language spoken by M. Berthémie had but little variety, and the _sacrement der Teufel_, whichhe had learnt in Germany, when he was aide-de-camp to Hautpoul, predominated too much in his discourse. Be that as it may, the judgesobserved that there was too great a conformity between his answers andthose which I had made myself, to render it necessary to continue aninterrogatory, which I may say, by the way, disturbed me much. The wishto terminate it was still more decided on the part of the judges, whenit came to the turn of a sailor named Mehemet. Instead of making himswear on the Koran to tell the truth, the judge was determined to makehim place his thumb on the forefinger so as represent the cross. Iwarned him that great offence would thus be given; and, accordingly, when Mehemet became aware of the meaning of this sign, he began to spitupon it with inconceivable violence. The meeting ended at once. 

The next day things had wholly changed their appearance; one of thejudges from Girone came to declare to us that we were free to depart, and to go with our ship wherever we chose. What was the cause of thissudden change? It was this. 

During our quarantine in the windmill at Rosas, I had written, in thename of Captain Braham, a letter to the Dey of Algiers. I gave him anaccount of the illegal arrest of his vessel, and of the death of one ofthe lions which the Dey had sent to the Emperor. This last circumstancetransported the African monarch with rage. He sent immediately for theSpanish Consul, M. Onis, claimed pecuniary damages for his dear lion, and threatened war if his ship was not released directly. Spain had thento do with too many difficulties to undertake wantonly any new ones, andthe order to release the vessel so anxiously coveted arrived at Girone, and from thence at Palamos. 

This solution, to which our Consul at Algiers, M. Dubois Thainville, hadnot remained inattentive, reached us at the moment when we leastexpected it. We at once made preparations for our departure, and on the28th of November, 1808, we set sail, steering for Marseilles; but, asthe Mussulmen on board the vessel declared, it was written above that weshould not enter that town. We could already perceive the whitebuildings which crown the neighbouring hills of Marseilles, when a gustof the "mistral, " of great violence, sent us from the north towards thesouth. 

I do not know what route we followed, for I was lying in my cabin, overcome with sea-sickness; I may therefore, though an astronomer, avowwithout shame, that at the moment when our unqualified pilots supposedthemselves to be off the Baléares, we landed, on the 5th of December, at Bougie. 

There, they pretended that during the three months of winter, allcommunication with Algiers, by means of the little boats named_sandalis_, would be impossible, and I resigned myself to the painfulprospect of so long a stay in a place at that time almost a desert. Oneevening I was making these sad reflections while pacing the deck of thevessel, when a shot from a gun on the coast came and struck the sideplanks close to which I was passing. This suggested to me the thought ofgoing to Algiers by land. 

I went next day, accompanied by M. Berthémie and Captain SpiroCalligero, to the Caïd of the town: "I wish, " said I to him, "to go toAlgiers by land. " The man, quite frightened, exclaimed, "I cannot allowyou to do so; you would certainly be killed on the road; your Consulwould make a complaint to the Dey, and I should have my head cut off. "

"Fear not on that ground. I will give you an acquittance. "

It was immediately drawn up in these terms: "We, the undersigned, certify that the Caïd of Bougie wished to dissuade us from going toAlgiers by land; that he has assured us that we shall be massacred onthe road; that notwithstanding his representations, reiterated twentytimes, we have persisted in our project. We beg the Algerineauthorities, particularly our Consul, not to make him responsible forthis event if it should occur. We once more repeat, that the voyage hasbeen undertaken against his will. 

 _Signed_: ARAGO and BERTHÉMIE. "

Having given this declaration to the Caïd, we considered ourselves quitof this functionary; but he came up to me, undid, without saying a word, the knot of my cravat, took it off, and put it into his pocket. All thiswas done so quickly that I had not time, I will add that I had not eventhe wish, to reclaim it. 

At the conclusion of this audience, which had terminated in so singulara manner, we made a bargain with a Mahomedan priest, who promised toconduct us to Algiers for the sum of twenty "piastres fortes, " and a redmantle. The day was occupied in disguising ourselves well or ill, and weset out the next morning, accompanied by several Moorish sailorsbelonging to the crew of the ship, after having shown the Mahomedanpriest that we had nothing with us worth a sou, so that if we werekilled on the road he would inevitably lose all reward. 

I went, at the last moment, to make my bow to the only lion that wasstill alive, and with whom I had lived in very good harmony; I wishedalso to say good-bye to the monkeys, who during nearly five months hadbeen equally my companions in misfortune. [4] These monkeys during ourfrightful misery had rendered us a service which I scarcely daremention, and which will scarcely be guessed by the inhabitants of ourcities, who look upon these animals as objects of diversion; they freedus from the vermin which infested us, and showed particularly aremarkable cleverness in seeking out the hideous insects which lodgedthemselves in our hair. 

Poor animals! they seemed to me very unfortunate in being shut up inthe narrow enclosure of the vessel, when, on the neighbouring coast, other monkeys, as if to bully them, came on to the branches of thetrees, giving innumerable proofs of their agility. 

At the commencement of the day, we saw on the road two Kabyls, similarto the soldiers of Jugurtha, whose harsh appearance powerfully allayedour fancy for wandering. In the evening we witnessed a fearful tumult, which appeared to be directed against us. We learnt afterwards that theMahomedan priest had been the object of it; that it originated with someKabyls whom he had disarmed on one of their journeys to Bougie. Thisincident, which appeared likely to be repeated, inspired us for a momentwith the thought of returning; but the sailors were resolute, and wecontinued our hazardous enterprise. 

In proportion as we advanced, our troops became increased by a certainnumber of Kabyls, who wished to go to Algiers to work there in thequality of seamen, and who dared not undertake alone this dangerousjourney. 

The third day we encamped in the open air, at the entrance of a forest. The Arabs lighted a very large fire in the form of a circle, and placedthemselves in the middle. Towards eleven o'clock, I was awakened by thenoise which the mules made, all trying to break their fastenings. Iasked what was the cause of this disturbance. They answered me that a"_sebâá_" had come roaming in the neighbourhood. I was not aware thenthat a "_sebâá_" was a lion, and I went to sleep again. The next day, intraversing the forest, the arrangement of the caravan was changed. Itwas grouped in the smallest space possible; one Kabyl was at the head, his gun ready for service; another was in the rear, in the sameposition. I inquired of the owner of the mule the cause of these unusualprecautions. He answered me, that they were dreading an attack from a"_sebâá_" and that if this should occur, one of us would be carried offwithout having time to put himself on the defensive. "I would rather bea spectator, " I said to him, "than an actor in the scene you describe;consequently, I will give you two piastres more if you will keep yourmule always in the centre of the moving group. " My proposal wasaccepted. It was then for the first time that I saw that my Arab carrieda yatagan under his tunic, which he used for pricking on the mule thewhole time that we were in the thicket. Superfluous cautions! The"_sebâá_" did not show himself. 

Each village being a little republic, whose territory we could not crosswithout obtaining permission and a passport from the Mahomedan priest_président_, the priest who conducted our caravan used to leave us inthe fields, and went sometimes a good way off to a village to solicitthe permission without which it would have been dangerous to continueour route. He remained entire hours without returning to us, and we thenhad occasion to reflect sadly on the imprudence of our enterprise. Wegenerally slept amongst habitations. Once, we found the streets of avillage barricaded, because they were fearing an attack from aneighbouring village. The foremost man of our caravan removed theobstacles; but a woman came out of her house like a fury, and belabouredus with blows from a pole. We remarked that she was fair, of brilliantwhiteness, and very pretty. 

Another time we lay down in a lurking-place dignified by the beautifulname of caravansary. In the morning, when the sun rose, cries of"_Roumi! Roumi!_" warned us that we had been discovered. The sailor, Mehemet, he who figured in the scene of the oath at Palamos, entered ina melancholy mood the enclosure where we were together, and made usunderstand that the cries of "Roumi!" vociferated under thesecircumstances, were equivalent to a sentence of death. "Wait, " said he;"a means of saving you has occurred to me. " Mehemet entered some momentsafterwards, told us that his means had succeeded, and invited me to jointhe Kabyls, who were going to say prayers. 

I accordingly went out, and prostrated myself towards the East. Iimitated minutely the gestures which I saw made around me, pronouncingthe sacred words, --_La elah il Allah! oua Mahommed raçoul Allah!_ It wasthe scene of Mamamouchi of the "Bourgeois Gentilhomme, " which I had sooften seen acted by Dugazon, --with this one difference, that this timeit did not make me laugh. I was, however, ignorant of the consequencesit might have brought upon me on my arrival at Algiers. After havingmade the profession of faith before Mahomedans--_There is but one God, and Mahomet is his prophet_, if I had been informed against to themufti, I must inevitably have become Mussulman, and they would not haveallowed me to go out of the Regency. 

I must not forget to relate by what means Mehemet had saved us frominevitable death. "You have guessed rightly, " said he to the Kabyls;"there are two Christians in the caravansary, but they are Mahomedans atheart, and are going to Algiers to be adopted by the mufti into our holyreligion. You will not doubt this when I tell you that I was myself aslave to some Christians, and that they redeemed me with their money. "

"In cha Allah!" they exclaimed with one voice. And it was then that thescene took place which I have just described. 

We arrived in sight of Algiers the 25th December, 1808. We took leave ofthe Arab owners of our mules, who walked on foot by the side of us, andwe spurred them on, in order to reach the town before the closing of thegates. On our arrival, we learnt that the Dey, to whom we owed our firstdeliverance, had been beheaded. The guard of the palace before which wepassed, stopped us and questioned us as to whence we came. We repliedthat we came from Bougie by land. "It is not possible!" exclaimed allthe janissaries at once; "the Dey himself would not venture to undertakesuch a journey!" "We acknowledge that we have committed a greatimprudence; that we would not undertake to recommence the journey formillions; but the fact that we have just declared is the strict truth. "

Arrived at the consular house, we were, as on the first occasion, verycordially welcomed. We received a visit from a dragoman sent by the Dey, who asked whether we persisted in maintaining that Bougie had been ourpoint of departure, and not Cape Matifou, or some neighbouring port. Weagain affirmed the truth of our recital; it was confirmed, the next day, on the arrival of the proprietors of our mules. 

At Palamos, during the various interviews which I had with the dowagerDuchess of Orleans, one circumstance had particularly affected me. ThePrincess spoke to me unceasingly of the wish she had to go and rejoinone of her sons, whom she believed to be alive, but of whose death I hadbeen informed by a person belonging to her household. Hence I wasanxious to do all that lay in my power to mitigate a sorrow which shemust experience before long. 

At the moment when I quitted Spain for Marseilles, the Duchess confidedto me two letters which I was to forward in safety to their addresses. One was destined for the Empress-mother of Russia, the other for theEmpress of Austria. 

Scarcely had I arrived at Algiers, when I mentioned these two letters toM. Dubois Thainville, and begged him to send them to France by the firstopportunity. "I shall do nothing of the sort, " he at once answered me. "Do you know that you have behaved in this affair like a younginexperienced man, or, to speak out, like a blunderer? I am surprisedthat you did not comprehend that the Emperor, with his pettish spirit, might take this much amiss, and consider you, according to the contentsof the two letters, as the promoter of an intrigue in favour of theexiled family of the Bourbons. " Thus the paternal advice of the FrenchConsul taught me that in all that regards politics, however nearly orremotely, one cannot give himself up without danger to the dictates ofthe heart and the reason. 

I enclosed my two letters in an envelope bearing the address of atrustworthy person, and gave them into the hands of a corsair, who, after touching at Algiers, would proceed to France. I have never knownwhether they reached their destination. 

The reigning Dey, successor to the beheaded Dey, had formerly filled thehumble office of "_épileur_"[5] of dead bodies in the mosques. Hegoverned the Regency with much gentleness, occupying himself withlittle but his harem. This disgusted those who had raised him to thiseminent post, and they resolved upon getting rid of him. We became awareof the danger which menaced him, by seeing the courts and vestibules ofthe consular house full, according to the custom under suchcircumstances, of Jews, carrying with them whatever they had of mostvalue. It was a rule at Algiers, that all that happened in the intervalcomprised between the death of a Dey and the installation of hissuccessor, could not be followed up by justice, and must remainunpunished. One can imagine, then, why the children of Moses should seeksafety in the consular houses, the European inhabitants of which had thecourage to arm themselves for self-defence as soon as the danger wasapparent, and who, moreover, had a janissary to guard them. 

Whilst the unfortunate Dey "épileur" was being conducted towards theplace where he was to be strangled, he heard the cannon which announcedhis death and the installation of his successor. "They are in greathaste, " said he; "what will you gain by carrying matters to extremities?Send me to the Levant; I promise you never to return. What have you toreproach me with?" "With nothing, " answered his escort, "but yourinsignificance. However, a man cannot live as a mere private man, afterhaving been Dey of Algiers. " And the unfortunate man perished by therope. 

The communication by sea between Bougie and Algiers was not sodifficult, even with the "_sandalas_, " as the Caïd of the former townwished to assure me. Captain Spiro had the cases landed, which belongedto me. The Caïd sought to discover what they contained; and, havingperceived through a chink something yellowish, he hastened to send thenews to the Dey, that the Frenchmen who had come to Algiers by land hadamong their baggage cases filled with zechins, destined to revolutionizethe Kabylie. They immediately had these cases forwarded to Algiers, andat their opening, before the Minister of Naval Affairs, all thephantasmagoria of zechins, of treasure, of revolution, disappeared atthe sight of the stands and the limbs of several repeating circles incopper. 

We are now going to sojourn several months in Algiers. I will takeadvantage of this to put together some details of manners which may beinteresting as the picture of a state of things anterior to that of theoccupation of the Regency by the French. This occupation, it must beremarked, has already fundamentally altered the manners and the habitsof the Algerine population. 

I am about to report a curious fact, and one which shows that politics, which insinuate themselves and bring discord into the bosom of the mostunited families, had succeeded, strange to say, in penetrating as far asthe galley-slaves' prison at Algiers. The slaves belonged to threenations: there were in 1809 in this prison, Portuguese, Neapolitans, andSicilians; among these two latter classes were counted partisans ofMurat and those of Ferdinand of Naples. One day, at the beginning of theyear, a dragoman came in the name of the Dey to beg M. Dubois Thainvilleto go without delay to the prison, where the friends of the French andtheir adversaries had involved themselves in a furious combat; andalready several had fallen. The weapon with which they struck each otherwas the heavy long chain attached to their legs. 

Each Consul, as I said above, had a janissary placed with him as hisguard; the one belonging to the French Consul was a Candiote; he hadbeen surnamed _the Terror_. Whenever some news unfavourable to Francewas announced in the cafés, he came to the Consulate to inform himselfas to the reality of the fact; and when we told him that the otherjanissaries had propagated false news, he returned to them, and there, yatagan in hand, he declared himself ready to enter the lists in combatagainst those who should still maintain the truth of the news. As thesecontinual threats might endanger him, (for they had no support beyondhis mere animal courage, ) we had wished to render him expert in thehandling of arms by giving him some lessons in fencing; but he could notendure the idea that Christians should touch him at every turn withfoils; he therefore proposed to substitute for the simulated duel a realcombat with the yatagan. 

One may gain an exact idea of this savage nature when I mention that, having one day heard a pistol-shot, the sound of which proceeded fromhis room, people ran, and found him bathed in his blood; he had justshot off a ball into his arm to cure himself of a rheumatic pain. 

Seeing with what facility the Deys disappeared, I said one day to ourjanissary, "With this prospect before your eyes, would you consent tobecome Dey?" "Yes, doubtless, " answered he. "You seem to count asnothing the pleasure of doing all that one likes, if only even for asingle day!"

When we wished to take a turn in the town of Algiers, we generally tookcare to be escorted by the janissary attached to the consular house; itwas the only means of escaping insults, affronts, and even acts ofviolence. I have just said it was the only means. I made a mistake;there was one other; that was, to go in the company of a French"lazarist" of seventy years of age, and whose name, if my memory servesme, was Father Joshua; he had lived in this country for half a century. This man, of exemplary virtue, had devoted himself with admirableself-denial to the service of the slaves of the Regency, and haddivested himself of all considerations of nationality;--the Portuguese, Neapolitans, Sicilians, all were equally his brethren. 

In the times of plague he was seen day and night carrying eager help tothe Mussulmans; thus, his virtue had conquered even religious hatreds;and wherever he passed, he and the persons who might accompany himreceived from multitudes of the people, from the janissaries, and evenfrom the officials of the mosques, the most respectful salutations. 

During our long hours of sailing on board the Algerine vessel, and ourcompulsory stay in the prisons at Rosas, and on the hulk at Palamos, Igathered some ideas as to the interior life of the Moors or theCoulouglous, which, even now when Algiers has fallen under the dominionof France, would perhaps be yet worth preserving. I shall, however, confine myself to recounting, nearly word for word, a conversation whichI had with Raïs Braham, whose father was a "_Turc fin_, " that is to say, a Turk born in the Levant. 

"How is it that you consent, " said I to him, "to marry a young girl whomyou have never seen, and find in her, perhaps, an excessively uglywoman, instead of the beauty whom you had fancied to yourself?"

"We never marry without having obtained information from the women whoserve in the capacity of servants at the public baths. The Jewesses aremoreover, in these cases, very useful go-betweens. "

"How many legitimate wives have you?"

"I have four, that is to say, the number authorized by the Koran. "

"Do they live together on a good understanding?"

"Ah, sir, my house is a hell. I never enter it without finding them atthe step of the door, or at the bottom of the stairs; then, each wantsto be the first to make me listen to the complaints which she has tobring against her companions. I am about to utter blasphemy, but I thinkthat our holy religion ought to prohibit a plurality of wives to thosewho are not rich enough to give to each a separate habitation. "

"But since the Koran allows you to repudiate even legitimate wives, whydo you not send back three of them to their parents?"

"Why? because that would ruin me. On the day of the marriage the fatherof the young woman to be married stipulates for a dowry, and the half ofit is paid. The other half may be exacted the day that the woman isrepudiated. It would then be three half dowries that I should have topay if I sent back three of my wives. I ought, however, to rectify oneinaccuracy in what I said just now, that my four wives had never agreedtogether. Once, they were agreed among themselves in the feeling of acommon hatred. In going through the market I had bought a young negress. In the evening, when I retired to rest, I perceived that my wives hadprepared no bed for her, and that the unfortunate girl was extended onthe ground. I rolled up my trowsers and laid them under her head as akind of pillow. In the morning the distracting cries of the poor slavemade me run to her, and I found her nearly sinking under the blows of myfour wives; for once they understood each other marvellously well. "

In February, 1809, the new Dey, the successor of the "épileur, " a shorttime after having entered on his functions, claimed from two to threehundred thousand francs, --I do not remember exactly the sum, --which hepretended was due to him from the French Government. M. DuboisThainville answered that he had received the Emperor's orders not to payone centime. 

The Dey was furious, and decided upon declaring war against us. Adeclaration of war at Algiers used to be immediately followed by puttingall the persons of other nations into prison. This time matters were notpushed to this extreme limit. Our names might be figuring on the list ofthe slaves of the Regency; but in fact, so far as I was concerned, Iremained free in the consular house. By means of a pecuniary guarantee, contracted with the Swedish Consul, M. Norderling, I was even permittedto live at his country house, situated near the Emperor's fort. 

The most insignificant event was sufficient to modify the ideas of thesebarbarians. I had come into the town one day, and was seated at table atM. Dubois Thainville's, when the English Consul, Mr. Blankley, arrivedin great haste, announcing to our Consul the entrance into the port of aFrench prize. "I never will uselessly add, " said he, generously, "to theseverities of war; I came to announce to you, my colleague, that I willgive up your prisoners on a receipt which will insure me the deliveranceof an equal number of Englishmen detained in France. " "I thank you, "answered M. Dubois Thainville; "but I do not the less deplore this eventthat it will retard, indefinitely, perhaps, the settlement of theaccount in which I am engaged with the Dey. "

During this conversation, armed with a telescope, I was looking throughthe window of the dining-room, trying to persuade myself at least thatthe captured vessel was not one of much importance. But one must yieldto evidence. It was pierced for a great number of guns. All at once, thewind having displayed the flags, I perceived with surprise the Frenchflag over the English flag. I communicated what I observed to Mr. Blankley. He answered immediately, "You do not surely pretend to observebetter with your bad telescope than I did with my _Dollond_?"

"And you cannot pretend, " said I to him in _my_ turn, "to see betterthan an astronomer by profession? I am sure of my fact. I beg M. Thainville's permission, and will go this instant to visit thismysterious prize. "

In short, I went there; and this is what I learnt:--

General Duhesme, Governor of Barcelona, wishing to rid himself of themost ill-disciplined portion of his garrison, formed the principal partinto the crew of a vessel, the command of which he gave to a lieutenantof Babastre, a celebrated corsair of the Mediterranean. 

There were amongst these improvised seamen a hussar, a dragoon, twoveterans, a miner with his long beard, &c. &c. The vessel, leavingBarcelona by night, escaped the English cruiser, and got to the entranceof Port Mahon. An English "lettre de marque" was coming out of the port. The crew of the French vessel boarded her; and a furious combat on thedeck ensued, in which the French got the upper hand. It was this "lettrede marque" which had now arrived at Algiers. 

Invested with full power by M. Dubois Thainville, I announced to theprisoners that they were about to be immediately given up to theirConsul. I respected even the trick of the captain, who, wounded byseveral sabre-cuts, had contrived to cover up his head with hisprincipal flag. I re-assured his wife; but my chief care was especiallydevoted to a passenger whom I saw with one arm amputated. 

"Where is the surgeon, " I said to him, "who operated on you?"

"It was not our surgeon, " he answered. "He basely fled with a part ofthe crew, and saved himself on land. "

"Who, then, cut off your arm?"

"It was the hussar whom you see here. "

"Unhappy man!" I exclaimed; "what could lead you, when it was not yourprofession, to perform this operation?"

"The pressing request of the wounded man. His arm had already swollen toan enormous size. He wanted some one to cut it off for him with a blowof a hatchet. I told him that in Egypt, when I was in hospital, I hadseen several amputations made; that I would imitate what I had seen, andmight perhaps succeed. That at any rate it would be better than the blowof a hatchet. All was agreed; I armed myself with the carpenter's saw;and the operation was done. "

I went off immediately to the American consul, to claim the assistanceof the only surgeon worthy of confidence who was then in Algiers. M. Triplet--I think I recollect that that was the name of the man of thedistinguished art whose aid I invoked--came at once on board the vessel, examined the dressing of the wound, and declared, to my very livelysatisfaction, that all was going on well, and that the Englishman wouldsurvive his horrible injury. 

The same day we had the wounded men carried on litters to Mr. Blankley'shouse; this operation, executed with somewhat of ceremony, modified, though slightly, the feelings of the Dey in our favour, and hissentiments became yet more favourable towards us in consequence ofanother maritime occurrence, although a very insignificant one. 

One day a corvette was seen in the horizon armed with a very greatnumber of guns, and shaping her way towards the port of Algiers; thereappeared immediately after an English brig of war, in full sail; acombat was therefore expected, and all the terraces of the town werecovered with spectators; the brig appeared to be the best sailer, andseemed to us likely to reach the corvette, but the latter tacked about, and seemed desirous to engage in battle; the English vessel fled beforeher; the corvette tacked about a second time, and again directed hercourse towards Algiers, where, one would have supposed, she had somespecial mission to execute. The brig, in her turn now changed hercourse, but held herself constantly beyond the reach of shot from thecorvette; at last the two vessels arrived in succession in the port, andcast anchor, to the lively disappointment of the Algerine population, who had hoped to be present without danger at a maritime combat betweenthe "Christian dogs, " belonging to two nations equally detested in areligious point of view; but shouts of laughter could not be repressedwhen it was seen that the corvette was a merchant vessel, and that shewas only armed with wooden imitations of cannon. It was said in the townthat the English sailors were furious, and had been on the point ofmutiny against their too prudent captain. 

I have very little to tell in favour of the Algerines; hence I must doan act of justice by mentioning, that the corvette departed the next dayfor the Antilles, her destination, and that the brig was not permittedto set sail until the next day but one. 

Bakri often came to the French Consulate to talk of our affairs with M. Dubois Thainville: "What can you want?" said the latter, "you are anAlgerine; you will be the first victim of the Dey's obstinacy. I havealready written to Livorno that your families and your goods are to beseized. When the vessels laden with cotton, which you have in this port, arrive at Marseilles, they will be immediately confiscated; it is foryou to judge whether it would not better suit you to pay the sum whichthe Dey claims, than to expose yourself to tenfold and certain loss. "

Such reasoning was unanswerable; and whatever it might cost him, Bakridecided on paying the sum that was demanded of France. 

Permission to depart was immediately granted to us; I embarked the 21stof June, 1809, on board a vessel in which M. Dubois Thainville and hisfamily were passengers. 

The evening before our departure from Algiers, a corsair deposited atthe consul's the Majorcan mail, which he had taken from a vessel whichhe had captured. It was a complete collection of the letters which theinhabitants of the Baléares had been writing to their friends on theContinent. 

"Look here, " said M. Dubois Thainville to me, "here is something toamuse you during the voyage, --you who generally keep your room fromsea-sickness, --break the seals and read all these letters, and seewhether they contain any accounts by which we might profit how to aidthe unhappy soldiers who are dying of misery and despair in the littleisland of Cabrera. "

Scarcely had we arrived on board the vessel, when I set myself to thework, and acted without scruple or remorse the part of an official ofthe black chamber, with this sole difference, that the letters wereunsealed without taking any precautions. I found amongst them severaldispatches, in which Admiral Collingwood signified to the SpanishGovernment the ease with which the prisoners might be delivered. Immediately on our arrival at Marseilles these letters were sent to theminister of naval affairs, who, I believe, did not pay much attention tothem. 

I knew almost every one at Palma, the capital of Majorca. I leave it tobe imagined with what curiosity I read the missives in which thebeautiful ladies of the town expressed their hatred against _losmalditos cavachios_, (French, ) whose presence in Spain had renderednecessary the departure for the Continent of a magnificent regiment ofhussars; how many persons might I not have embroiled, if under a mask Ihad found myself with them at the opera ball!

Many of the letters made mention of me, and were particularlyinteresting to me; I was sure in this instance there was nothing toconstrain the frankness of those who had written them. It is anadvantage which few people can boast having enjoyed to the same degree. 

The vessel in which I was, although laden with bales of cotton, had somecorsair papers of the Regency, and was the reputed escort of threerichly laden merchant vessels which were going to France. 

We were off Marseilles on the 1st of July, when an English frigate cameto stop our passage: "I will not take you, " said the English captain;"but you will go towards the Hyères Islands, and Admiral Collingwoodwill decide on your fate. "

"I have received, " answered the Barbary captain, "an express commissionto conduct these vessels to Marseilles, and I will execute it. "

"You, individually, can do what may seem to you best, " answered theEnglishman; "as to the merchant vessels under your escort, they will be, I repeat to you, taken to Admiral Collingwood. " And he immediately gaveorders to those vessels to set sail to the East. 

The frigate had already gone a little distance when she perceived thatwe were steering towards Marseilles. Having then learnt from the crewsof the merchant vessels that we were ourselves laden with cotton, shetacked about to seize us. 

She was very near reaching us, when we were enabled to enter the port ofthe little island of Pomègue. In the night she put her boats to sea totry to carry us off; but the enterprise was too perilous, and she didnot dare attempt it. 

The next morning, 2d of July, 1809, I disembarked at the lazaretto. 

At the present day they go from Algiers to Marseilles in four days; ithad taken me eleven months to make the same voyage. It is true that hereand there I had made involuntary sojourns. 

My letters sent from the lazaretto at Marseilles were considered by myrelatives and friends as certificates of resurrection, they having for along time past supposed me dead. A great geometer had even proposed tothe Bureau of Longitude no longer to pay my allowance to my authorizedrepresentative; which appears the more cruel inasmuch as thisrepresentative was my father. 

The first letter which I received from Paris was full of sympathy andcongratulations on the termination of my laborious and perilousadventures; it was from a man already in possession of an Europeanreputation, but whom I had never seen: M. De Humboldt, after what he hadheard of my misfortunes, offered me his friendship. Such was the firstorigin of a connection which dates from nearly forty-two years back, without a single cloud ever paving troubled it. 

M. Dubois Thainville had numerous acquaintances in Marseilles; his wifewas a native of that town, and her family resided there. They received, therefore, both of them, numerous visits in the parlour of thelazaretto. The bell which summoned them, for me alone was dumb; and Iremained as solitary and forsaken, at the gates of a town peopled with ahundred thousand of my countrymen, as if I had been in the heart ofAfrica. One day, however, the parlour-bell rang three times (the numberof times corresponding to the number of my room); I thought it must be amistake. I did not, however, allow this to appear. I traversed proudlyunder the escort of my guard of health the long space which separatesthe lazaretto, properly so called, from the parlour; and there I found, with very lively satisfaction, M. Pons, the director of the Observatoryat Marseilles, and the most celebrated discoverer of comets of whom theannals of Astronomy have ever had to register the success. 

At any time a visit from the excellent M. Pons, whom I have since seendirector of the Observatory at Florence, would have been very agreeableto me; but, during my quarantine, I felt it unappreciably valuable. Itproved to me that I had returned to my native soil. 

Two or three days before our admission to freedom, we experienced a losswhich was deeply felt by each of us. To pass away the heavy time of asevere quarantine, the little Algerine colony was in the habit of goingto an enclosure near the lazaretto, where a very beautiful gazelle, belonging to M. Dubois Thainville, was confined; she bounded about therein full liberty with a grace which excited our admiration. One of usendeavoured to stop this elegant animal in her course; he seized herunluckily by the leg, and broke it. We all ran, but only, alas! towitness a scene which excited the deepest emotion in us. 

The gazelle, lying on her side, raised her head sadly; her beautifuleyes (the eyes of a gazelle!) shed torrents of tears; no cry ofcomplaint escaped her mouth; she produced that effect upon us which isalways felt when a person who is suddenly struck by an irreparablemisfortune, resigns himself to it, and shows his profound anguish onlyby silent tears. 

Having ended my quarantine, I went at once to Perpignan, to the bosom ofmy family, where my mother, the most excellent and pious of women, caused numerous masses to be said to celebrate my return, as she haddone before to pray for the repose of my soul, when she thought that Ihad fallen under the daggers of the Spaniards. But I soon quitted mynative town to return to Paris; and I deposited at the Bureau ofLongitude and the Academy of Sciences my observations, which I hadsucceeded in preserving amidst the perils and tribulations of my longcampaign. 

A few days after my arrival, on the 18th of September, 1809, I wasnominated an academician in the place of Lalande. There were fifty-twovoters; I obtained forty-seven voices, M. Poisson four, and M. Nouetone. I was then twenty-three years of age. 

A nomination made with such a majority would appear, at first sight, asif it could give rise to no serious difficulties; but it provedotherwise. The intervention of M. De Laplace, before the day of ballot, was active and incessant to have my admission postponed until the timewhen a vacancy, occurring in the geometry section, might enable thelearned assembly to nominate M. Poisson at the same time as me. Theauthor of the _Mécanique Céleste_ had vowed to the young geometer anunbounded attachment, completely justified, certainly, by the beautifulresearches which science already owed to him. M. De Laplace could notsupport the idea that a young astronomer, younger by five years than M. Poisson, a pupil, in the presence of his professor at the PolytechnicSchool, should become an academician before him. He proposed to me, therefore, to write to the Academy that I would not stand for electionuntil there should be a second place to give to Poisson. I answered by aformal refusal, and giving my reasons in these terms: "I care little tobe nominated at this moment. I have decided upon leaving shortly with M. De Humboldt for Thibet. In those savage regions the title of member ofthe Institute will not smooth the difficulties which we shall have toencounter. But I would not be guilty of any rudeness towards theAcademy. If they were to receive the declaration for which I am asked, would not the savans who compose this illustrious body have a right tosay to me: 'How are you certain that we have thought of you? You refusewhat has not yet been offered to you. '"

On seeing my firm resolution not to lend myself to the inconsideratecourse which he had advised me to follow, M. De Laplace went to work inanother way; he maintained that I had not sufficient distinction foradmission into the Academy. I do not pretend that, at the age ofthree-and-twenty, my scientific attainments were very considerable, ifestimated in an _absolute_ manner; but when I judged by _comparison_, Iregained courage, especially on considering that the three last years ofmy life had been consecrated to the measurement of an arc of themeridian in a foreign country; that they were passed amid the storms ofthe war with Spain; often enough in dungeons, or, what was yet worse, inthe mountains of Kabylia, and at Algiers, at that time a very dangerousresidence. 

Here is, therefore, my statement of accounts for that epoch. I make itover to the impartial appreciation of the reader. 

On leaving the Polytechnic School, I had made, in conjunction with M. Biot, an extensive and very minute research on the determination of thecoefficient of the tables of atmospheric refraction. 

We had also measured the refraction of different gases, which, up tothat time, had not been attempted. 

A determination, more exact than had been previously obtained, of therelation of the weight of air to the weight of mercury, had furnished adirect value of the coefficient of the barometrical formula which servedfor the calculation of the heights. 

I had contributed, in a regular and very assiduous manner, during nearlytwo years, to the observations which were made day and night with thetransit telescope and with the mural quadrant at the Paris Observatory. 

I had undertaken, in conjunction with M. Bouvard, the observationsrelating to the verification of the laws of the moon's libration. Allthe calculations were prepared; it only remained for me to put thenumbers into the formulæ, when I was, by order of the Bureau ofLongitude, obliged to leave Paris for Spain. I had observed variouscomets, and calculated their orbits. I had, in concert with M. Bouvard, calculated, according to Laplace's formula, the table of refractionwhich has been published in the _Recueil des Tables_ of the Bureau ofLongitude, and in the _Connaissance des Temps_. A research on thevelocity of light, made with a prism placed before the object end of thetelescope of the mural circle, had proved that the same tables ofrefraction might serve for the sun and all the stars. 

Finally, I had just terminated, under very difficult circumstances, thegrandest triangulation which had ever been achieved, to prolong themeridian line from France as far as the island of Formentera. 

M. De Laplace, without denying the importance and utility of theselabours and these researches, saw in them nothing more than indicationsof promise; M. Lagrange then said to him explicitly:--

"Even you, M. De Laplace, when you entered the Academy, had done nothingbrilliant; you only gave promise. Your grand discoveries did not cometill afterwards. "

Lagrange was the only man in Europe who could with authority addresssuch an observation to him. 

M. De Laplace did not reply upon the ground of the personal question, but he added, --"I maintain that it is useful to young savans to hold outthe position of member of the Institute as a future recompense, toexcite their zeal. "

"You resemble, " replied M. Hallé, "the driver of the hackney coach, who, to excite his horses to a gallop, tied a bundle of hay at the end of hiscarriage pole; the poor horses redoubled their efforts, and the bundleof hay always flew on before them. After all, his plan made them falloff, and soon after brought on their death. "

Delambre, Legendre, Biot, insisted on the devotion, and what they termedthe courage, with which I had combated arduous difficulties, whether incarrying on the observations, or in saving the instruments and theresults already obtained. They drew an animated picture of the dangers Ihad undergone. M. De Laplace ended by yielding when he saw that all themost eminent men of the Academy had taken me under their patronage, andon the day of the election he gave me his vote. It would be, I must own, a subject of regret with me even to this day, after a lapse of forty-twoyears, if I had become member of the Institute without having obtainedthe vote of the author of the _Mécanique Céleste_. 

The Members of the Institute were always presented to the Emperor afterhe had confirmed their nominations. On the appointed day, in companywith the presidents, with the secretaries of the four classes, and withthe academicians who had special publications to offer to the Chief ofthe State, they assembled in one of the saloons of the Tuileries. Whenthe Emperor returned from mass, he held a kind of review of thesesavans, these artists, these literary men, in green uniform. 

I must own that the spectacle which I witnessed on the day of mypresentation did not edify me. I even experienced real displeasure inseeing the anxiety evinced by members of the Institute to be noticed. 

"You are very young, " said Napoleon to me on coming near me; and withoutwaiting for a flattering reply, which it would not have been difficultto find, he added, --"What is your name?" And my neighbour on the right, not leaving me time to answer the simple enough question just addressedto me, hastened to say, --

"_His_ name is Arago?"

"What science do you cultivate?"

My neighbour on the left immediately replied, --

"_He_ cultivates astronomy. "

"What have you done?"

My neighbour on the right, jealous of my left hand neighbour for havingencroached on his rights at the second question, now hastened to reply, and said, --

"_He_ has just been measuring the line of the meridian in Spain. "

The Emperor imagining doubtless that he had before him either a dumb manor an imbecile, passed on to another member of the Institute. This onewas not a novice, but a naturalist well known through his beautiful andimportant discoveries; it was M. Lamarck. The old man presented a bookto Napoleon. 

"What is that?" said the latter, "it is your absurd _meteorology_, inwhich you rival Matthieu Laensberg. It is this 'annuaire' whichdishonours your old age. Do something in Natural History, and I shouldreceive your productions with pleasure. As to this volume, I only takeit in consideration of your white hair. Here!" And he passed the book toan aide-de-camp. 

Poor M. Lamarck, who, at the end of each sharp and insulting sentence ofthe Emperor, tried in vain to say, "It is a work on Natural Historywhich I present to you, " was weak enough to fall into tears. 

The Emperor immediately afterwards met with a more energetic antagonistin the person of M. Lanjuinais. The latter had advanced, book in hand. Napoleon said to him, sneeringly:--

"The entire Senate, then, is to merge in the Institute?" "Sire, "replied Lanjuinais, "it is the body of the state to which most time isleft for occupying itself with literature. "

The Emperor, displeased at this answer, at once quitted the civiluniforms, and busied himself among the great epaulettes which filled theroom. 

Immediately after my nomination, I was exposed to strange annoyances onthe part of the military authorities. I had left for Spain, stillholding the title of pupil of the Polytechnic School. My name could notremain on the books more than four years; consequently I had beenenjoined to return to France to go through the examinations necessary onquitting the school. But in the meantime Lalande died, and thus a placein the Bureau of Longitude became vacant. I was named assistantastronomer. These places were submitted to the nomination of theEmperor. M. Lacuée, Director of the Conscription, thought that, throughthis latter circumstance, the law would be satisfied, and I wasauthorized to continue my operations. 

M. Matthieu Dumas, who succeeded him, looked at the question from anentirely different point of view; he enjoined me either to furnish asubstitute, or else to set off myself with the contingent of the twelftharrondissement of Paris. 

All my remonstrances and those of my friends having been fruitless, Iannounced to the honourable General that I should present myself in thePlace de l'Estrapade, whence the conscripts had to depart, in thecostume of a member of the Institute; and that thus I should march onfoot through the city of Paris. General Matthieu Dumas was alarmed atthe effect which this scene would produce on the Emperor, himself amember of the Institute, and hastened, under fear of my threat, toconfirm the decision of General Lacuée. 

In the year 1809, I was chosen by the "conseil du perfectionnement" ofthe Polytechnic School, to succeed M. Monge, in his chair of Analysisapplied to Geometry. The circumstances attending that nomination haveremained a secret; I seize the first opportunity which offers itself tome to make them known. 

M. Monge took the trouble to come to me one day, at the Observatory, toask me to succeed him. I declined this honour, because of a proposedjourney which I was going to make into Central Asia with M. De Humboldt. "You will certainly not set off for some months to come, " said theillustrious geometer; "you could, therefore, take my place temporarily. ""Your proposal, " I replied, "flatters me infinitely; but I do not knowwhether I ought to accept it. I have never read your great work onpartial differential equations; I do not, therefore, feel certain that Ishould be competent to give lessons to the pupils of the PolytechnicSchool on such a difficult theory. " "Try, " said he, "and you will findthat that theory is clearer than it is generally supposed to be. "Accordingly, I did try; and M. Monge's opinion appeared to me to be wellfounded. 

The public could not comprehend, at that time, how it was that thebenevolent M. Monge obstinately refused to confide the delivery of hiscourse to M. Binet, (a private teacher under him, ) whose zeal was wellknown. It is this motive which I am going to reveal. 

There was then in the "Bois de Boulogne" a residence named the _GreyHouse_, where there assembled round M. Coessin, the high-priest of a newreligion, a number of adepts, such as Lesueur, the musician, Colin, private teacher of chemistry at the school, M. Binet, &c. A report fromthe prefect of police had signified to the Emperor that the frequentersof the Grey House were connected with the Society of Jesuits. TheEmperor was uneasy and irritated at this. "Well, " said he to M. Monge, "there are your dear pupils become disciples of Loyola!" And on Monge'sdenial, "You deny it, " answered the Emperor; "well, then, know that theprivate teacher of your course is in that clique. " Every one canunderstand that after such a remark, Monge could not consent to beingsucceeded by M. Binet. 

Having entered the academy, young, ardent, and impassioned, I took muchgreater part in the nominations than may have been suitable for myposition and my time of life. Arrived at an epoch of life whence Iexamine retrospectively all my actions with calmness and impartiality, Ican render this amount of justice to myself, that, excepting in three orfour instances, my vote and interest were always in favour of the mostdeserving candidate, and more than once I succeeded in preventing theAcademy from making a deplorable choice. Who could blame me for havingmaintained with energy the election of Malus, considering that hiscompetitor, M. Girard, unknown as a physicist, obtained twenty-two votesout of fifty-three, and that an addition of five votes would have givenhim the victory over the savant who had just discovered the phenomenonof polarization by reflection, over the savant whom Europe would havenamed by acclamation? The same remarks are applicable to the nominationof Poisson, who would have failed against this same M. Girard if fourvotes had been otherwise given. Does not this suffice to justify theunusual ardour of my conduct? Although in a third trial the majority ofthe Academy was decided in favour of the same engineer, I cannot regretthat I supported up to the last moment with conviction and warmth theelection of his competitor, M. Dulong. 

I do not suppose that, in the scientific world, any one will he disposedto blame me for having preferred M. Liouville to M. De Pontécoulant. 

Sometimes it happened that the Government wished to influence the choiceof the Academy; with a strong sense of my rights I invariably resistedall dictation. Once this resistance acted unfortunately on one of myfriends--the venerable Legendre; as to myself, I had prepared myselfbeforehand for all the persecutions of which I could be made the object. Having received from the Minister of the Interior an invitation to votefor M. Binet against M. Navier on the occurrence of a vacant place inthe section of mechanics, Legendre nobly answered that he would voteaccording to his soul and his conscience. He was immediately deprived ofa pension which his great age and his long services rendered due to him. The _protégé_ of the authorities failed; and, at the time, this resultwas attributed to the activity with which I enlightened the members ofthe Academy as to the impropriety of the Minister's proceedings. 

On another occasion the King wished the Academy to name Dupuytren, theeminent surgeon, but whose character at the time lay under graveimputations. Dupuytren was nominated, but several blanks protestedagainst the interference of the authorities in academic elections. 

I said above that I had saved the Academy from some deplorable choices;I will only cite a single instance, on which occasion I had the sorrowof finding myself in opposition to M. De Laplace. The illustriousgeometer wished a vacant place in the astronomical section to be grantedto M. Nicollet, --a man without talent, and, moreover, suspected ofmisdeeds which reflected on his honour in the most serious degree. Atthe close of a contest, which I maintained undisguisedly, notwithstanding the danger which might follow from thus braving thepowerful protectors of M. Nicollet, the Academy proceeded to the ballot;the respected M. Damoiseau, whose election I had supported, obtainedforty-five votes out of forty-eight. Thus M. Nicollet had collected butthree. 

"I see, " said M. De Laplace to me, "that it is useless to struggleagainst young people; I acknowledge that the man who is called the_great elector_ of the Academy is more powerful than I am. "

"No, " replied I; "M. Arago can only succeed in counterbalancing theopinion justly preponderating for M. De Laplace, when the right is foundto be without possible contradiction on his side. "

A short time afterwards M. Nicollet had run away to America, and theBureau of Longitude had a warrant passed to expel him ignominiously fromits bosom. 

I would warn those savans, who, having early entered the Academy, mightbe tempted to imitate my example, to expect nothing beyond thesatisfaction of their conscience. I warn them, with a knowledge of thecase, that gratitude will almost always be found wanting. 

The elected academician, whose merits you have sometimes exalted beyondmeasure, pretends that you have done no more than justice to him; thatyou have only fulfilled a duty, and that he therefore owes you nothanks. 

Delambre died the 19th August, 1822. After the necessary delay, theyproceeded to fill his place. The situation of Perpetual Secretary is notone which can long be left vacant. The Academy named a commission topresent it with candidates; it was composed of Messrs. De Laplace, Arago, Legendre, Rossel, Prony, and Lacroix. The list presented wascomposed of the names of Messrs. Biot, Fourier, and Arago. It is notnecessary for me to say with what obstinacy I opposed the inscription ofmy name on this list; I was compelled to give way to the will of mycolleagues, but I seized the first opportunity of declaring publiclythat I had neither the expectation nor the wish to obtain a single vote;that, moreover, I had on my hands already as much work as I could getthrough; that in this respect M. Biot was in the same position; andthat, in short, I should vote for the nomination of M. Fourier. 

It was supposed, but I dare not flatter myself that it was the fact, that my declaration exercised a certain influence on the result of theballot. The result was as follows: M. Fourier received thirty-eightvotes, and M. Biot ten. In a case of this nature each man carefullyconceals his vote, in order not to run the risk of future disagreementwith him who may be invested with the authority which the Academy givesto the perpetual secretary. I do not know whether I shall be pardoned ifI recount an incident which amused the Academy at the time. 

M. De Laplace, at the moment of voting, took two plain pieces of paper;his neighbour was guilty of the indiscretion of looking, and sawdistinctly that the illustrious geometer wrote the name of Fourier onboth of them. After quietly folding them up, M. De Laplace put thepapers into his hat, shook it, and said to this same curious neighbour:"You see, I have written two papers; I am going to tear up one, I shallput the other into the urn; I shall thus be myself ignorant for which ofthe two candidates I have voted. "

All went on as the celebrated academician had said; only that every oneknew with certainty that his vote had been for Fourier; and "thecalculation of probabilities" was in no way necessary for arriving atthis result. 

After having fulfilled the duties of secretary with much distinction, but not without some feebleness and negligence in consequence of his badhealth, Fourier died the 16th of May, 1830. I declined several times thehonour which the Academy appeared willing to do me, in naming me tosucceed him. I believed, without false modesty, that I had not thequalities necessary to fill this important place suitably. Whenthirty-nine out of forty-four voters had appointed me, it was quite timethat I should give in to an opinion so flattering and so plainlyexpressed. On the 7th of June, 1830, I, therefore, became perpetualsecretary of the Academy for the Mathematical Sciences; but, conformablyto the plea of an accumulation of offices, which I had used as anargument to support, in November, 1822, the election of M. Fournier, Ideclared that I should give in my resignation of the Professorship inthe Polytechnic School. Neither the solicitations of Marshal Soult, theMinister of War, nor those of the most eminent members of the Academy, could avail in persuading me to renounce this resolution. 

FOOTNOTES:

[1] With such precocious heroism it is by no means so clear that theauthor might not have had a hand in the revolution, from which heendeavours above to exculpate himself. 

[2] Méchain, member of the Academy of Sciences and of the Institute, wascharged in 1792 with the prolongation of the measure of the arc of themeridian in Spain as far as Barcelona. 

During his operations in the Pyrenees, in 1794, he had known my father, who was one of the administrators of the department of the EasternPyrenees. Later, in 1803, when the question was agitated as to thecontinuation of the measure of the meridian line as far as the BalearicIslands, M. Méchain went again to Perpignan, and came to pay my father avisit. As I was about setting off to undergo the examination foradmission at the Polytechnic School, my father ventured to ask himwhether he could not recommend me to M. Monge. "Willingly, " answered he;"but, with the frankness which is my characteristic, I ought not toleave you unaware that it appears to me improbable that your son, leftto himself, can have rendered himself completely master of the subjectsof which the programme consists. If, however, he be admitted, let him bedestined for the artillery, or for the engineers; the career of thesciences, of which you have talked to me, is really too difficult to gothrough, and unless he had a special calling for it, your son would onlyfind it deceptive. " Anticipating a little the order of dates, let uscompare this advice with what occurred: I went to Toulouse, underwentthe examination, and was admitted; one year and a half afterwards Ifilled the situation of secretary at the Observatory, which had becomevacant by the resignation of M. Méchain's son; one year and a halflater, that is to say, four years after the Perpignan "horoscope, "associated with M. Biot, I filled the place, in Spain, of the celebratedacademician who had died there, a victim to his labours. 

[3] This appears to be an oversight, as in a preceding page M. Aragodescribed the fortunate release of Captain Krog from this captivity. 

[4] On my return to Paris I hastened to the Jardin des Plantes to pay avisit to the lion, but he received me with a very unamiable gnashing ofthe teeth. Think then of the marvellous history of the Florentine lion, the subject of so many engravings, which is offered on the stall ofevery printseller to the eyes of the moved and astonished passers-by. 

[5] An "_épileur_" is a person who removes superfluous hairs. We havebeen unable to ascertain what office of this kind is performed inMohammedan funerals. 

BAILLY. 

BIOGRAPHY READ AT THE PUBLIC SITTING OF THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCES, THE26TH OF FEBRUARY, 1844. 

INTRODUCTION. 

Gentlemen, --The learned man, illustrious in so many ways, whose life Iam going to relate, was taken from France half a century ago. I hastento make this remark, so as thoroughly to show that I have selected thissubject without being deterred by complaints which I look upon as unjustand inapplicable. The glory of the members of the early Academy ofSciences is an inheritance for the present Academy. We must cherish itas we would the glory of later days; we must hallow it with the samerespect, we must devote to it the same worship: the word _prescription_would here be synonymous with ingratitude. 

If it had happened, Gentlemen, that amongst the academicians whopreceded us, a man, already illustrious by his labours, and, withoutpersonal ambition, yet thrown, despite himself, into the midst of aterrible revolution, exposed to a thousand unrestrained passions, hadcruelly disappeared in the political effervescence--oh! then, anynegligence, any delay in studying the facts would be inexcusable; thehonourable contemporaries of the victim would soon be no longer there toshed the light of their honest and impartial memory on obscure events;an existence devoted to the cultivation of reason and of truth wouldcome to be appreciated only from documents, on which, for my part, Iwould not blindly draw, until it shall be proved that, in revolutionarytimes, we can trust to the uprightness of parties. 

I felt in duty bound, Gentlemen, to give you a sketch of the ideas thathave led me to present to you a detailed account of the life and laboursof a member of the early Academy of Sciences. The biographies which willsoon follow this, will show that the studies I have undertakenrespecting Carnot, Condorcet, and Bailly, have not prevented me fromattending seriously to our illustrious contemporaries. 

To render them a loyal and truthful homage, is the first duty of thesecretaries of the Academy, and I will religiously fulfil it; withoutbinding myself, however, to observe a strict chronological order, or tofollow the civil registers step by step. 

Eulogies, said an ancient authority, should be deferred until we havelost the true measure of the dead. Then we could make giants of themwithout any one opposing us. On the contrary, I am of opinion thatbiographers, especially those of academicians, ought to make allpossible haste, so that every one may be represented according to histrue measure, and that well-informed people may have the opportunity ofrectifying the mistakes which, notwithstanding every care, almostinevitably slip into this sort of composition. I regret that our formersecretaries did not adopt this rule. By deferring from year to year toanalyze the scientific and political life of Bailly with their scruples, and with their usual talents, they allowed time for inconsiderateness, prejudice, and passions of every kind, to impregnate our minds with amultitude of serious errors, which have added considerably to thedifficulty of my task. When I was led to form very different opinionsfrom those that are found spread through some of the most celebratedworks, on the events of the great revolution of 1789, in which ourfellow-academician took an active part, I could not be so conceited asto expect to be believed on my own word. To propound my opinions thenwas insufficient; I had also to combat those of the historians with whomI differed. This necessity has given to the biography that I am going toread an unusual length. I solicit the kind sympathy of the assembly onthis point. I hope to obtain it, I acknowledge, when I consider that mytask is to analyze before you the scientific and literary claims of anillustrious colleague, to depict the uniformly noble and patrioticconduct of the first President of the National Assembly; to follow thefirst Mayor of Paris in all the acts of an administration, thedifficulties of which appeared to be above human strength; to accompanythe virtuous magistrate to the very scaffold, to unroll the mournfulphases of the cruel martyrdom that he was made to undergo; to retrace, in a word, some of the greatest, some of the most terrible events of theFrench Revolution. 

INFANCY OF BAILLY. --HIS YOUTH. --HIS LITERARY ESSAYS. --HIS MATHEMATICALSTUDIES. 

John Sylvain Bailly was born at Paris in 1736. His parents were JamesBailly and Cecilia Guichon. 

The father of the future astronomer had charge of the king's pictures. This post had continued in the obscure but honest family of Bailly forupwards of a century. 

Sylvain, while young, never quitted his paternal home. His mother wouldnot be separated from him; it was not that she could give him theinstruction required from masters in childhood, but a tenderness, allowed to run to the utmost extreme, entirely blinded her. Bailly thenformed his own mind, under the eye of his parents. Nothing could bebetter, it seemed, than the boyhood of our brother academician, toverify the oft-repeated theory, touching the influence of imitation onthe development of our faculties. Here, the result, attentivelyexamined, would not by a great deal agree with the old hypothesis. Iknow not but, every thing considered, whether it would rather furnishpowerful weapons to whoever would wish to maintain that, in its earlyhabits, childhood rather seeks for contrasts. 

James Bailly had an idle and light character; whilst young Sylvain fromthe beginning showed strong reasoning powers, and a passion for study. 

The grown man felt in his own element while in noisy gayety. 

But the boy loved retirement. 

To the father, solitude would have been fatal; for to him life consistedin motion, sallies, witty conversations, free and easy parties, thelittle gay suppers of those days. 

The son, on the contrary, would remain alone and quite silent for wholedays. His mind sufficed to itself; he never sought the fellowship ofcompanions of his own age. Extreme steadiness was at once his habit andhis taste. 

The warder of the king's pictures drew remarkably well, but did notappear to have troubled himself much with the principles of art. 

His son Sylvain studied those principles deeply, and to some purpose; hebecame a theoretic artist of the first class, but he never could eitherdraw or paint even moderately well. 

There are few young people who would not, at some time or other, havewished to escape from the scrutinizing eyes of their parents. Thecontrary was the case in Bailly's family, for James used sometimes tosay to his friends or to his servants, "Do not mention this peccadilloto my son. Sylvain is worth more than I am; his morals are very strict. Under the most respectful exterior, I should perceive in his manner acensure which would grieve me. I wish to avoid his tacit reproaches, even when he does not say a word. "

The two characters resembled each other only in one point--in theirtaste for poetry, or perhaps we ought to say versification, but evenhere we shall perceive differences. 

The father composed songs, little interludes, and farces that were actedat the _Italian Comedy_; but the son commenced at the age of sixteen bya serious work of time, --a tragedy. 

This tragedy was entitled _Clothaire_. The subject, drawn from the earlycenturies of the French History, had led Bailly by a curious andtouching coincidence to relate the tortures inflicted on a Mayor ofParis by a deluded and barbarous multitude. The work was modestlysubmitted to the actor Lanoue, who, although he bestowed flatteringencouragement on Bailly, dissuaded him frankly from exposing _Clothaire_to the risk of a public representation. On the advice of thecomedian-author, the young poet took _Iphygenia in Tauris_ for thesubject of his second composition. Such was his ardour, that by the endof three months, he had already written the last line of the fifth actof his new tragedy, and hastened to Passy, to solicit the opinion of theauthor of _Mahomet II_. This time Lanoue thought he perceived that hisconfiding young friend was not intended by nature for the drama, and hedeclared it to him without disguise. Bailly heard the fatal sentencewith more resignation than could have been expected from a youth whosebudding self-esteem received so violent a shock. He even threw his twotragedies immediately into the fire. Under similar circumstances, Fontenelle showed less docility in his youth. If the tragedy of _Aspar_also disappeared in the flames, it was not only in consequence of thecriticism of a friend; for the author went so far as to call forth thenoisy judgment of the pit. 

Certainly no astronomer will regret that any opinions either off-hand orwell digested, on the first literary productions of Bailly, contributedto throw him into the pursuit of science. Still, for the sake ofprinciple, it seems just to protest against the praises given to theforesight of Lanoue, to the sureness of his judgment, to the excellenceof his advice. What was it in fact? A lad of sixteen or seventeen yearsof age, composes two tolerable tragedies, and these essays are madeirrevocably to decide on his future fate. We have then forgotten thatRacine had already reached the age of twenty-two, when he firstappeared, producing _Theagenes and Charicles_, and the _InimicalBrothers_; that Crébillon was nearly forty years of age when he composeda tragedy on _The Death of the Sons of Brutus_, of which not a singleverse has been preserved; finally, that the two first comedies ofMolière, _The three rival Doctors_ and _The Schoolmaster_, are no longerknown but by their titles. Let us recall to mind that reflection ofVoltaire's: "It is very difficult to succeed before the age of thirty ina branch of literature that requires a knowledge of the world and of thehuman heart. "

A happy chance showed that the sciences might open an honourable andglorious path to the discouraged poet. M. De Moncaville offered to teachhim mathematics, in exchange for drawing-lessons that his son receivedfrom the warder of the king's pictures. The proposal being accepted, theprogress of Sylvain Bailly in these studies was rapid and brilliant. 

BAILLY BECOMES THE PUPIL OF LACAILLE. --HE IS ASSOCIATED WITH HIM IN HISASTRONOMICAL LABOURS. 

The mathematical student soon after had one of those providentialmeetings which decide a young man's future fate. Mademoiselle Lejeuneuxcultivated painting. It was at the house of this female artist, knownafterwards as Madame La Chenaye, that Lacaille saw Bailly. Theattentive, serious, and modest demeanour of the student charmed thegreat astronomer. He showed it in a most unequivocal manner, byoffering, though so avaricious of his time, to become the guide of thefuture observer, and also to put him in communication with Clairaut. 

It is said that from his first intercourse with Lacaille, Bailly showeda decided vocation for astronomy. This fact appears to me incontestable. At his first appearance in this line, I find him associated in the mostlaborious, difficult, and tiresome investigations of that greatobserver. 

These epithets may perhaps appear extraordinary; but they will be soonly to those who have learnt the science of the stars in ancient poems, either in verse or in prose. 

The Chaldæans, luxuriously reclining on the perfumed terraced roofs oftheir houses in Babylon, under a constantly azure sky, followed withtheir eyes the general and majestic movements of the starry sphere; theyascertained the respective displacements of the planets, the moon, thesun; they noted the date and hour of eclipses; they sought out whethersimple periods would not enable them to foretell these magnificentphenomena a long time beforehand. Thus the Chaldæans created, if I maybe allowed the expression, _Contemplative Astronomy_. Their observationswere neither numerous nor exact; they both made and discussed themwithout labour and without trouble. 

Such is not, by a great deal, the position of modern astronomers. Science has felt the necessity of the celestial motions being studied intheir minutest details. Theories must explain these details; it is theirtouchstone; it is by details that theories become confirmed or fall tothe ground. Besides, in Astronomy, the most important truths, the mostastonishing results, are based on the measurement of quantities ofextreme minuteness. Such measures, the present bases of the science, require very fatiguing attention, infinite care, to which no learned manwould bind himself, were he not sustained, and encouraged by the hope ofattaining some capital determination, through an ardent and decideddevotion to the subject. 

The modern astronomer, really worthy of the name, must renounce thedistractions of society, and even the refreshment of uninterruptedsleep. In our climates during the inclement season, the sky is almostconstantly overspread by a thick curtain of clouds. Under pain ofpostponing by some centuries the verification of this or that theoreticpoint, we must watch the least clearing off, and avail ourselves of itwithout delay. 

A favourable wind arises and dissipates the vapours in the verydirection where some important phenomenon will manifest itself, and isto last only a few seconds. The astronomer, exposed to all thetransitions of weather, (it is one of the conditions of accuracy, ) thebody painfully bent, directs the telescope of a great graduated circlein haste upon the star that he impatiently awaits. His lines formeasuring are a spider's threads. If in looking he makes a mistake ofhalf the thickness of one of these threads, the observation is good fornothing; judge what his uneasiness must be; at the critical moment, apuff of wind occasioning a vibration in the artificial light adapted tohis telescope, the threads become almost invisible; the star itself, whose rays reach the eye through atmospheric strata of various density, temperature, and refrangibility, will appear to oscillate so much as torender the true position of it almost unassignable; at the very momentwhen extremely good definition of the object becomes indispensable toinsure correctness of measures, all becomes confused, either because theeye-piece gets steamed with vapour, or that the vicinity of the verycold metal occasions an abundant secretion of tears in the eye appliedto the telescope; the poor observer is then exposed to the alternativeof abandoning to some other more fortunate person than himself, theascertaining a phenomenon that will not recur during his lifetime, orintroducing into the science results of problematical correctness. Finally, to complete the observation, he must read off the microscopicaldivisions of the graduated circle, and for what opticians call _indolentvision_ (the only sort that the ancients ever required) must substitute_strained vision_, which in a few years brings on blindness. [6]

When he has scarcely escaped from this physical and moral torture, andthe astronomer wishes to know what degree of utility is deducible fromhis labours, he is obliged to plunge into numerical calculations ofrepelling length and intricacy. Some observations that have been made inless than a minute, require a whole day's work in order to be comparedwith the tables. 

Such was the view that Lacaille, without any softening, exhibited to hisyoung friend; such was the profession into which the adolescent poetplunged with great ardour, and without having been at all prepared forthe transition. 

A useful calculation constituted the first claim of our tyro to theattention of the learned world. 

The year 1759 had been marked by one of those great events, the memoryof which is religiously preserved in scientific history. A comet, thatof 1682, had returned at the epoch foretold by Clairaut, and very nearlyin the region that mathematical analysis had indicated to him. Thisreappearance raised comets out of the category of sublunary meteors; itgave them definitely closed curves as orbits, instead of parabolas, oreven mere straight lines; attraction confined them within its immensedomain; in short, these bodies ceased for ever to be liable tosuperstition regarding them as prognostics. 

The stringency, the importance of these results, would naturallyincrease in proportion as the resemblance between the announced orbitand the real orbit became more evident. 

This was the motive that determined so many astronomers to calculate theorbit of the comet minutely, from the observations made in 1759, throughout Europe. Bailly was one of those zealous calculators. In thepresent day, such a labour would scarcely deserve special mention; butwe must remark that the methods at the close of the eighteenth centurywere far from being so perfect as those that are now in use, and thatthey greatly depended on the personal ability of the individual whoundertook them. 

Bailly resided in the Louvre. Being determined to make the theory andpractice of astronomy advance together, he had an observatoryestablished from the year 1760, at one of the windows in the upper storyof the south gallery. Perhaps I may occasion surprise by giving thepompous name of _Observatory_ to the space occupied by a window, and thesmall number of instruments that it could contain. I admit this feeling, provided it be extended to the Royal Observatory of the epoch, to theold imposing and severe mass of stone that attracts the attention of thepromenaders in the great walk of the Luxembourg. There also, theastronomers were obliged to stand in the hollow of the windows; therealso they said, like Bailly: I cannot verify my quadrants either by thehorizon or by the zenith, for I can neither see the horizon nor thezenith. This ought to be known, even if it should disturb the wildreveries of two or three writers, who have no scientific authority:France did not possess an observatory worthy of her, nor worthy of thescience, and capable of rivalling the other observatories of Europe, until within these ten or twelve years. 

The earliest observations made by Bailly, from one of the windows in theupper story of the Louvre gallery that looks out on the Pont des Arts, are dated in the beginning of 1760. The pupil of Lacaille was not yettwenty-four years old. Those observations relate to an opposition of theplanet Mars. In the same year he determined the oppositions of Jupiterand of Saturn, and compared the results of his own determinations withthe tables. 

The subsequent year I see him associated with Lacaille in observing thetransit of Venus over the sun's disk. It was an extraordinary piece ofgood fortune, Gentlemen, at the very commencement of his scientificlife, to witness in succession two of the most interesting astronomicalevents: the first predicted and well established return of a comet; andone of those partial eclipses of the sun by Venus, that do not recurtill after the lapse of a hundred and ten years, and from which sciencehas deduced the indirect but exact method, without which we should stillbe ignorant of the fact that the sun's mean distance from our earth isthirty-eight millions of leagues. 

I shall have completed the enumeration of Bailly's astronomical laboursperformed before he became an academician, when I have added, fromobservations of the comet of 1762, the calculation of its parabolicorbit; the discussion of forty-two observations of the moon by La Hire, a detailed labour destined to serve as a starting point for any personoccupying himself with the lunar theory; finally, also the reduction of515 zodiacal stars, observed by Lacaille in 1760 and 1761. 

FOOTNOTE:

[6] This long list of supposed difficulties in making an exactobservation is hardly worthy of a zealous astronomer. Our author showsno enthusiasm for his subject here, and ends by ascribing the wholejeremiad to Lacaille, a man of very great practical perseverance. It isto be regretted that Arago never refers to observations of his own, butconstantly quotes from others, nor does he always select the best. --_Translator's Note_. 

BAILLY A MEMBER OF THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCES. --HIS RESEARCHES ON JUPITER'SSATELLITES. 

Bailly was named member of the Academy of Sciences the 29th January, 1763. From that moment his astronomical zeal no longer knew any bounds. The laborious life of our fellow-academician might, on occasion, be setup against a line, more fanciful than true, by which an ill-natured poetstigmatized academical honours. Certainly no one would say of Bailly, that after his election, "Il s'endormit et ne fit qu'un somme. "

 "He fell asleep and made but one nap (or sum). "

On the contrary, we cannot but be surprised at the multitude of literaryand scientific labours that he accomplished in a few years. 

Bailly's earliest researches on Jupiter's satellites began in 1763. 

The subject was happily chosen. Studying it in all its generalities, heshowed himself both an indefatigable computer, a clear-sighted geometer, and an industrious and able observer. Bailly's researches on thesatellites of Jupiter, will always be his first and chief claim toscientific glory. Before him, the Maraldis, the Bradleys, the Wargentinshad discovered empirically some of the principal perturbations thatthose bodies undergo, in their revolving motions around the powerfulplanet that rules them; but they had not been traced up to theprinciples of universal attraction. The initiative honour in thisrespect belongs to Bailly. Nor is this honour decreased by the ulteriorand considerable improvements that the science has since received; eventhe discoveries of Lagrange and of Laplace have left this honour intact. 

The knowledge of the satellitic motions rests almost entirely on theobservation of the precise moment when each of those bodies disappears, by entering into the conical shadow, which the immense opaque globe ofJupiter projects on the opposite side from the sun. In the course ofdiscussing a multitude of these eclipses, Bailly was not long inperceiving that the computers of the Satellitic Tables worked onnumerical data that were not at all comparable with each other. Thisseemed of little consequence previous to the birth of the theory; but, after the analytical discovery of the perturbations, it became desirableto estimate the possible errors of observation, and to suggest means forremedying them. This was the object of the very considerable work thatBailly presented to the Academy in 1771. 

In this beautiful memoir, the illustrious astronomer developes theseries of experiments, by the aid of which each observation may give theinstant of the real disappearance of a satellite, distinguished from theinstant of the apparent disappearance, whatever be the power of thetelescope used, whatever be the altitude of the eclipsed body above thehorizon, and consequently, whatever be the transparency of theatmospheric strata through which the phenomenon is observed, alsowhatever be the distance from that body to the sun, or to the planet;finally, whatever be the sensibility of the observer's sight, all whichcircumstances considerably influence the time of apparent disappearance. The same series of ingenious and delicate observations led the author, very curiously, to the determination of the true diameters of thesatellites, that is to say, of small luminous points, which, with thetelescopes then in use, showed no perceptible diameter. 

I will rest contented with these general considerations; only remarking, in addition, that the diaphragms used by Bailly were not intended onlyto diminish the quantity of light contributing to the formation of theimages, but that they considerably increase the diameter, and in avariable way, at least in the instance of stars. 

Under this new aspect, it will be requisite to submit the question to anew examination. 

Any geometers and astronomers who wish to know all the extent ofBailly's labours, must not content themselves with consulting thecollections in the Academy of Sciences; for he published, at thebeginning of 1766, a separate work under the modest title of _Essay onthe Theory of Jupiter's Satellites_. 

The author commences with the _Astronomical History of the Satellites_. This history contains an almost complete analysis of the discoveries byMaraldi, by Bradley, by Wargentin. The labours of Galileo and hiscontemporaries are given with less detail and exactness. I have thoughtthat I ought to fill up the lacunæ, by availing myself of some veryprecious documents published a few years since, and which were unknownto Bailly. 

But this I will do in a separate notice, free from all preconceivedideas, and free from all party spirit; I will not forget that an honestman ought not to calumniate any one, not even the agents of theInquisition. 

BAILLY'S LITERARY WORKS. --HIS BIOGRAPHIES OF CHARLES V. --OFLEIBNITZ--OF PETER CORNEILLE--OF MOLIÈRE. 

When Bailly entered the Academy of Sciences, the perpetual secretary wasGrandjean de Fouchy. The bad health of this estimable scholar occasionedan early vacancy to be foreseen. D'Alembert cast his views on Bailly, hinted to him the survivorship to Fouchy, and proposed to him, by way ofpreparing the way, to write some biographies. Bailly followed the adviceof the illustrious geometer, and chose as the subject of his studies, the éloges proposed by several academies, though principally by theFrench Academy. 

From the year 1671 to the year 1758, the prize subjects proposed by theFrench Academy related to questions of religion and morality. Theeloquence of the candidates had therefore had to exercise itselfsuccessively on the knowledge of salvation; on the merit and dignity ofmartyrdom; on the purity of the soul and of the body; on the dangerthere is in certain paths that appear safe, &c. &c. It had even toparaphrase the _Ave Maria_. According to the literal intentions of thefounder, (Balzac, ) each discourse was ended by a short prayer. Duclosthought in 1758, that five or six volumes of similar sermons must haveexhausted the matter, and on his proposal the Academy decided that, infuture, it would give as the subject of the eloquence prize, theeulogiums of the great men of the nation. Marshal Saxe, Duguay Trouin, Sully, D'Aguesseau, Descartes, figured first on this list. Later, theAcademy felt itself authorized to propose the éloge of kings themselves;it entered on this new branch at the beginning of 1767, by asking forthe éloge of Charles V. 

Bailly entered the lists, but his essay obtained only an honourablemention. 

Nothing is more instructive than to search out at what epoch originatedthe principles and opinions of persons who have acted an important parton the political scene, and how those opinions developed themselves. Bya fatality much to be regretted, the elements of these investigationsare rarely numerous or faithful. We shall not have to express theseregrets relative to Bailly. Each composition shows us the serene, candid, and virtuous mind of the illustrious writer, in a new and truepoint of view. The éloge of Charles V. Was the starting point, followedby a long series of works, and it ought to arrest our attention for awhile. 

The writings, crowned with the approbation of the French Academy, didnot reach the public eye till they had been submitted to the severecensure of four Doctors in Theology. A special and digested approbationby the high dignitaries of the Church, whom the illustrious assemblyalways possessed among her members, was not a sufficient substitute forthe humbling formality. If we are sure that we possess the éloge ofCharles V. Such as it flowed from the author's pen; if we have notreason to fear that the thoughts have undergone some mutilation, we oweit to the little favour that the discourse of Bailly enjoyed in thesitting of the Academy in 1767. Those thoughts, however, would havedefied the most squeamish mind, the most shadowy susceptibility. Thepanegyrist unrolls with emotion the frightful misfortunes that assailedFrance during the reign of King John. The temerity, the improvidence ofthat monarch; the disgraceful passions of the King of Navarre; histreacheries; the barbarous avidity of the nobility; the seditiousdisposition of the people; the sanguinary depredations of the greatcompanies; the ever recurring insolence of England; all this isexpressed without disguise, yet with extreme moderation. No traitreveals, no fact even foreshadows in the author, the future President ofa reforming National Assembly, still less the Mayor of Paris, during arevolutionary effervescence. The author may make Charles V. Say that hewill discard favour, and will call in renown to select hisrepresentatives; it will appear to him that taxes ought to be laid onriches and spared on poverty; he may even exclaim that oppressionawakens ideas of equality. His temerity will not overleap this boundary. Bossuet, Massillon, Bourdaloue, made the Chair resound with bold wordsof another description. 

I am far from blaming this scrupulous reserve; when moderation is unitedto firmness, it becomes power. In a word, however, Bailly's patriotismmight, I was about to say ought to, have shown itself more susceptible, more ardent, prouder. When in the elegant prosopopoeia which closesthe éloge, the King of England has recalled with arrogance the fatal dayof Poitiers, ought he not instantly to have restrained that pride withinjust limits? ought he not to have cast a hasty glance on the componentsof the Black Prince's army? to examine whether a body of troops, starting from Bordeaux, recruiting in Guienne, did not contain moreGascons than English? whether France, now bounded by its natural limits, in its magnificent unity, would not have a right, every thing beingexamined, to consider that battle almost as an event of civil war? oughthe not, in short, to have pointed out, in order to corroborate hisremarks, that the knight to whom King John surrendered himself, Denys deMorbecque, was a French officer banished from Artois?

Self-reliance on the field of battle is the first requisite forobtaining success; now, would not our self-reliance be shaken, if themen most likely to know the facts, and to appreciate them wisely, appeared to think that the Frank race were nationally inferior to otherraces who had peopled this or that region, either neighbouring ordistant? This, let it be well remarked, is not a puerile susceptibility. Great events may, on a given day, depend on the opinion that the nationhas formed of itself. Our neighbours on the other side of the Channel, afford examples on this subject that it would be well to imitate. 

In 1767, the Academy of Berlin proposed a prize for an éloge ofLeibnitz. The public was somewhat surprised at it. It was generallysupposed that Leibnitz had been admirably praised by Fontenelle, andthat the subject was exhausted. But from the moment that Bailly's essay, crowned in Prussia, was published, former impressions were quitechanged. Every one was anxiously asserting that Bailly's appreciation ofhis subject might be read with pleasure and benefit, even afterFontenelle's. The éloge composed by the historian of Astronomy will not, certainly, make us forget that written by the first Secretary of theAcademy of Sciences. The style is, perhaps, too stiff; perhaps it isalso rather declamatory; but the biography, and the analysis of hisworks, are more complete, especially if we consider the notes; the_universal_ Leibnitz is exhibited under more varied points of view. 

In 1768, Bailly obtained the award of the prize of eloquence proposedby the Academy of Rouen. The subject was the éloge of Peter Corneille. In reading this work of our fellow-academician, we may be somewhatsurprised at the immense distance that the modest, the timid, thesensitive Bailly puts between the great Corneille, his specialfavourite, and Racine. 

When the French Academy, in 1768, proposed an éloge of Molière forcompetition, our candidate was vanquished only by Chamfort. And yet, ifpeople had not since that time treated of the author of "Tartufe" tosatiety, perhaps I would venture to maintain, notwithstanding someinferiority of style, that Bailly's discourse offered a neater, truer, and more philosophic appreciation of the principal pieces of thatimmortal poet. 

DEBATES RELATIVE TO THE POST OF PERPETUAL SECRETARY OF THE ACADEMY OFSCIENCES. 

We have seen D'Alembert, ever since the year 1763, encouraging Bailly toexercise himself in a style of literary composition then much liked, thestyle of éloge, and holding out to him in prospect the situation ofPerpetual Secretary of the Academy of Sciences. Six years after, theillustrious geometer gave the same advice, and perhaps held out the samehopes, to the young Marquis de Condorcet. This candidate, docile to thevoice of his protector, rapidly composed and published the éloges of theearly founders of the Academy, of Huyghens, of Mariotte, of Roëmer, &c. 

At the beginning of 1773, the Perpetual Secretary, Grandjean de Fouchy, requested that Condorcet should be nominated his successor, provided hesurvived him. D'Alembert strongly supported this candidateship. Buffonsupported Bailly with equal energy; the Academy presented for someweeks the aspect of two hostile camps. There was at last a stronglydisputed electoral battle; the result was the nomination of Condorcet. 

I should regret if we had to judge of the sentiments of Bailly, afterthis defeat, by those of his adherents. Their anger found vent in termsof unpardonable asperity. They said that D'Alembert had "basely betrayedfriendship, honour, and the first principles of probity. "

They here alluded to a promise of protection, support, coöperation, dating ten years back. But was his promise absolute? Engaging himselfpersonally to Bailly for a situation that might not become vacant forten or fifteen years, had D'Alembert, contrary to his duty as anacademician, declared beforehand, that any other candidate, whatevermight be his talents, would be to him as not existing?

This is what ought to have been ascertained, before giving themselves upto such violent and odious imputations. 

Was it not quite natural that the geometer D'Alembert, having topronounce his opinion between two honourable learned men, gave thepreference to the candidate who seemed to him most imbued with thehigher mathematics? The éloges of Condorcet were, besides, by theirstyle, much more in harmony with those that the Academy had approvedduring three quarters of a century. Before the declaration of thevacancy on the 27th of February, 1773, D'Alembert said to Voltaire, relative to the recueil by Condorcet, "Some one asked me the other daywhat I thought of that work. I answered by writing on the frontispiece, 'Justice, propriety, learning, clearness, precision, taste, elegance, and nobleness. '" And Voltaire wrote, on the 1st of March, "I have read, while dying, the little book by M. De Condorcet; it is as good in itsdepartments as the éloges by Fontenelle. There is a more noble and moremodest philosophy in it, though bold. "

And excitement in words and action could not be legitimately reproachedin a man who had felt himself supported by a conviction of such distinctand powerful influence. 

Among the éloges by Bailly, there is one, that of the Abbé de Lacaille, which not having been written for a literary academy, shows no longerany trace of inflation or declamation, and might, it seems to me, compete with some of the best éloges by Condorcet. Yet, it is curious, that this excellent biography contributed, perhaps as much asD'Alembert's opposition, to make Bailly's claims fail. Vainly did thecelebrated astronomer flatter himself in his exordium, "that M. DeFouchy, who, as Secretary of the Academy, had already paid his tributeto Lacaille, would not be displeased at his having followed him in thesame career . .. That he would not be blamed for repeating the praisesdue to an illustrious man. "

Bailly, in fact, was not blamed aloud; but when the hour for retreat hadsounded in M. De Fouchy's ear, without any fuss, without showing himselfoffended in his self-love, remaining apparently modest, this learnedman, in asking for an assistant, selected one who had not undertaken torepeat his éloges; who had not found his biographies insufficient. Thispreference ought not to be, and was not, uninfluential in the result ofthe competition. 

Bailly, if Perpetual Secretary of the Academy, would have been obligedto reside constantly at Paris. But Bailly, as member of the AstronomicalSection, might retire to the country, and thus escape those thieves oftime, as Byron called them, who especially abound in the metropolis. Bailly settled at Chaillot. It was at Chaillot that ourfellow-academician composed his best works, those that will sail downthe stream of time. 

Nature had endowed Bailly with the most happy memory. He did not writehis discourses till he had completed them in his head. His first copywas always a clean copy. Every morning Bailly started early from hishumble residence at Chaillot; he went to the Bois de Boulogne, andthere, walking for many hours at a time, his powerful mind elaborated, coördinated, and robed in all the pomps of language, those highconceptions destined to charm successive generations. Biographers informus that Crébillon composed in a similar way. And this was, according toseveral critics, the cause of the incorrectness, of the asperity ofstyle, which disfigure several pieces by that tragic poet. The works ofBailly, and especially the discourses that complete the _History ofAstronomy_, invalidate this explanation. I could also appeal to theelegant and pure productions of that poet whom France has just lost andweeps for. No one indeed can be ignorant of his works; CasimirDelavigne, like Bailly, never committed his verses to paper until he hadworked them up in his mind to that harmonious perfection which procuredfor them the unanimous suffrages of all people of taste. Gentlemen, pardon this reminiscence. The heart loves to connect such names as thoseof Bailly and of Delavigne; those rare and glorious symbols, in whom wefind united talent, virtue, and an invariable patriotism. 

HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY. --LETTERS ON THE ATLANTIS OF PLATO AND ON THEANCIENT HISTORY OF ASIA. 

In 1775, Bailly published a quarto volume, entitled _History of AncientAstronomy, from its Origin up to the Establishment of the AlexandrianSchool_. An analogous work for the lapse of time, comprised between theAlexandrian School and 1730, appeared in 1779, in two volumes. Anadditional volume appeared three years later, entitled the _History ofModern Astronomy up to the Epoch of 1782_. The fifth part of thisimmense composition, the _History of Indian Astronomy_, was published in1787. 

When Bailly undertook this general history of Astronomy, the sciencepossessed nothing of the sort. Erudition had seized upon some specialquestions, some detailed points, but no commanding view had presidedover these investigations. 

Weidler's book, published in 1741, was a mere simple nomenclature of theastronomers of every age, and of every country; the dates of their birthand death; the titles of their works. The utility of this preciseenumeration of dates and titles did not alter the character of the book. 

Bailly sketches the plan of his work with a masterly hand in a fewlines; he says, "It is interesting to transport one's self back to thetimes when Astronomy began; to observe how discoveries were connectedtogether, how errors have got mixed up with truth, have delayed theknowledge of it, and retarded its progress; and, after having followedthe various epochs and traversed every climate, finally to contemplatethe edifice founded on the labours of successive centuries and ofvarious nations. "

This vast plan essentially led to the minute discussion and comparisonof a multitude of passages both ancient and modern. If the author hadmixed up these discussions with the body of the work, he would havelaboured for astronomers only. If he had suppressed all discussions, thebook would have interested amateurs only. To avoid this double rock, Bailly decided on writing a connected narrative with the quintessence ofthe facts, and to place the proofs and the discussions of the merelyconjectural parts, under the appellation of explanations in separatechapters. Bailly's History, without forfeiting the character of aserious and erudite work, became accessible to the public in general, and contributed to disseminate accurate notions of Astronomy both amongliterary men and among general society. 

When Bailly declared, in the beginning of his book, that he would goback to the very commencement of Astronomy, the reader might expect somepages of pure imagination. I know not, however, whether any body wouldhave expected a chapter of the first volume to be entitled, _OfAntediluvian Astronomy_. 

The principal conclusion to which Bailly comes, after an attentiveexamination of all the positive ideas that antiquity has bequeathed tous is, that we find rather the ruins than the elements of a science inthe most ancient Astronomy of Chaldæa, of India, and of China. 

After treating of certain ideas of Pluche, Bailly says, "The country ofpossibilities is immense, and although truth is contained therein, it isnot often easy to distinguish it. "

Words so reasonable would authorize me to inquire whether thecalculations of our fellow-labourer, intended to establish the immenseantiquity of the Indian Tables, are beyond all criticism. But thequestion has been sufficiently discussed in a passage of _The Expositionof the System of the World_, on which it would be useless to insisthere. Whatever came from the pen of M. De Laplace was always marked bythe stamp of reason and of evidence. In the first lines of hismagnificent work, after having remarked that "the history of Astronomyforms an essential part of the history of the human mind, " Baillyobserves, "that it is perhaps the true measure of man's intelligence, and a proof of what he can do with time and genius. " I shall allowmyself to add, that no study offers to reflecting minds more striking ormore curious relations. 

When by measurements, in which the evidence of the method advancesequally with the precision of the results, the volume of the earth isreduced to the millionth part of the volume of the sun; when the sunhimself, transported to the region of the stars, takes up a very modestplace among the thousands of millions of those bodies that the telescopehas revealed to us; when the 38, 000, 000 of leagues which separate theearth from the sun, have become, by reason of their comparativesmallness, a base totally insufficient for ascertaining the dimensionsof the visible universe; when even the swiftness of the luminous rays(77, 000 leagues per second) barely suffices for the common valuations ofscience; when, in short, by a chain of irresistible proofs, certainstars have retired to distances that light could not traverse in lessthan a million of years; we feel as if annihilated by such immensities. In assigning to man, and to the planet that he inhabits, so small aposition in the material world, Astronomy seems really to have madeprogress only to humble us. 

But if, on the other hand, we regard the subject from the oppositepoint of view, and reflect on the extreme feebleness of the naturalmeans by the help of which so many great problems have been attacked andsolved; if we consider that to obtain and measure the greater part ofthe quantities now forming the basis of astronomical computation, manhas had greatly to improve the most delicate of his organs, to addimmensely to the power of his eye; if we remark that it was not lessrequisite for him to discover methods adapted to measuring very longintervals of time, up to the precision of tenths of seconds; to combatagainst the most microscopic effects that constant variations oftemperature produce in metals, and therefore in all instruments; toguard against the innumerable illusions that a cold or hot atmosphere, dry or humid, tranquil or agitated, impresses on the medium throughwhich the observations have inevitably to be made; the feeble beingresumes all his advantage; by the side of such wonderful labours of themind, what signifies the weakness, the fragility of our body; whatsignify the dimensions of the planet, our residence, the grain of sandon which it has happened to us to appear for a few moments!

The thousands of questions on which Astronomy has thrown its dazzlinglight belong to two entirely distinct categories; some offeredthemselves naturally to the mind, and man had only to seek the means forsolving them; others, according to the beautiful expression of Pliny, were enveloped in the majesty of nature! When Bailly lays down in hisbook these two kinds of problems, it is with the firmness, the depth, ofa consummate astronomer; and when he shows their importance, theirimmensity, it is always with the talent of a writer of the highestorder; it is sometimes with a bewitching eloquence. If in the beautifulwork we are alluding to, Astronomy unavoidably assigns to man animperceptible place in the material world, she assigns him, on the otherhand, a vast share in the intellectual world. The writings which, supported by the invincible deductions of science, thus elevate man inhis own eyes, will find grateful readers in all climes and times. 

In 1775, Bailly sent the first volume of his history to Voltaire. Inthanking him for his present, the illustrious old man addressed to theauthor one of those letters that he alone could write, in whichflattering and enlivening sentences were combined without effort withhigh reasoning powers. "I have many thanks to return you, (said thePatriarch of Ferney, ) for having on the same day received a large bookon medicine and yours, while I was still ill; I have not opened thefirst, I have already read the second almost entirely, and feel better. "

Voltaire, indeed, had read Bailly's work pen in hand, and he proposed tothe illustrious astronomer some queries, which proved both his infiniteperspicacity, and wonderful variety of knowledge. Bailly then felt thenecessity of developing some ideas which in his _History of AncientAstronomy_ were only accessories to his principal subject. This was theobject of the volume that he published in 1776, under the title of_Letters on the Origin of the Sciences and of the People of Asia, addressed to M. De Voltaire_. The author modestly announced that "tolead the reader by the interest of the style to the interest of thequestion discussed, " he would place at the head of his work threeletters from the author of _Merope_, and he protested against the ideathat he had been induced to play with paradoxes. 

According to Bailly, the present nations of Asia are heirs of ananterior people, who understood Astronomy perfectly. Those Chinese, those Hindoos, so renowned for their learning, would thus have been meredepositaries; we should have to deprive them of the title of inventors. Certain astronomical facts, found in the annals of those southernnations, appear to have belonged to a higher latitude. By these means wediscover the true site on the globe of the primitive people, provingagainst the received opinion that learning came southward from thenorth. 

Bailly also found that the ancient fables, considered physically, appeared to belong to the northern regions of the earth. 

In 1779, Bailly published a second collection, forming a sequel to theformer, and entitled _Letters on the Atlantis of Plato, and on theAncient History of Asia_. 

Voltaire died before these new letters could be communicated to him. Bailly did not think that this circumstance ought to make him change theform of the discussion already employed in the former series; it isstill Voltaire whom he addresses. 

The philosopher of Ferney thought it strange that there should be noknowledge of this ancient people, who, according to Bailly, hadinstructed the Indians. To answer this difficulty, the celebratedastronomer undertakes to prove that some nations have disappeared, without their existence being known to us by any thing beyond tradition. He cites five of these, and in the first rank the Atlantidæ. 

Aristotle said that he thought Atlantis was a fiction of Plato's: "Hewho created it also destroyed it, like the walls that Homer built on theshores of Troy, and then made them disappear. " Bailly does not join inthis skepticism. According to him, Plato spoke seriously to theAthenians of a learned, polished people, but destroyed and forgotten. Only, he totally repudiates the idea of the Canaries being the remainsof the ancient country of the Atlantidæ, and now engulfed. Bailly ratherplaces that nation at Spitzbergen, Greenland, or Nova Zembla, whoseclimate may have changed. We should also have to seek for the Garden ofthe Hesperides near the Pole; in short, the fable of the Phoenix mayhave arisen in the Gulf of the Obi, in a region where we must supposethe sun to have been annually absent during sixty-five days. 

It is evident, in many passages, that Bailly is himself surprised at thesingularity of his own conclusions, and fears that his readers mayrather regard them as jokes. He therefore exclaims, "My pen would notfind expressions for thoughts which I did not believe to be true. " Letus add that no effort is painful to him. Bailly calls successively tohis aid astronomy, history, supported by vast erudition, philology, thesystems of Mairan, of Buffon, relatively to the heat appertaining to theearth. He does not forget, using his own words, "that in the humanspecies, still more sensitive than curious, more anxious for pleasurethan for instruction, nothing pleases generally, or for a long time, unless the style is agreeable; that dry truth is killed by ennui!" YetBailly makes few proselytes; and a species of instinct determines men ofscience to despise the fruits of so persevering a labour; and D'Alembertgoes so far as to tax them with poverty, even with hollow ideas, withvain and ridiculous efforts; he goes so far as to call Bailly, relatively to his letters, the _illuminated brother_. Voltaire is, onthe contrary, very polite and very academical in his communications withour author. The renown of the Brahmins is dear to him; yet this doesnot prevent his discussing closely the proofs, the arguments of theingenious astronomer. We could also now enter into a serious discussion. The mysterious veil that in Bailly's time covered the East, is in greatpart raised. We now know the Astronomy of the Chinese and the Hindoos inall its detail. We know up to what point the latter had carried theirmathematical knowledge. The theory of central heat has in a few yearsmade an unhoped-for progress; in short, comparative philology, prodigiously extended by the invaluable labours of Sacy, Rémusat, Quatremère, Burnouf, and Stanislaus Julien, have thrown strong lights onsome historical and geographical questions, where there reigned before aprofound darkness. Armed with all these new means of investigation, itmight easily be established that the systems relative to an ancientunknown people, first creator of all the sciences, and relative to theAtlantidæ, rest on foundations devoid of solidity. Yet, if Bailly stilllived, we should be only just in saying to him, as Voltaire did, merelychanging the tense of a verb, "Your two books _were_, Sir, treasures ofthe most profound erudition and the most ingenious conjectures, adornedwith an eloquence of style, which is always suitable to the subject. "

FIRST INTERVIEW OF BAILLY WITH FRANKLIN. --HIS ENTRANCE INTO THE FRENCHACADEMY IN 1783. --HIS RECEPTION. --DISCOURSE. --HIS RUPTURE WITH BUFFON. 

Bailly became the particular and intimate friend of Franklin at the endof 1777. The personal acquaintance of these two distinguished men beganin the strangest manner. 

One of the most illustrious members of the Institute, Volney, onreturning from the New World, said: "The Anglo-Americans tax the Frenchwith lightness, with indiscretion, with chattering. " (Volney, preface to_The Table of the Climate of the United States_. ) Such is theimpression, in my opinion very erroneous, at least by comparison, underwhich the Ambassador Franklin arrived in France. All the world knowsthat he halted at Chaillot. As an inhabitant of the Commune, Baillythought it his duty to visit without delay the illustrious guest thusreceived. He was announced, and Franklin, knowing him by reputation, welcomed him very cordially, and exchanged with his visitor the eight orten words usual on such occasions. Bailly seated himself by the Americanphilosopher, and discreetly awaited some question to be put to him. Halfan hour passed, and Franklin had not opened his mouth. Bailly drew outhis snuff-box, and presented it to his neighbour without a word; thetraveller signed with his hand that he did not take snuff. The dumbinterview was then prolonged during a whole hour. Bailly finally rose. Then Franklin, as if delighted to have found a Frenchman who couldremain silent, extended his hand to him, pressed his visitor'saffectionately, exclaiming: "Very well, Monsr. Bailly, very well!"

After having recounted the anecdote as our academician used amusingly torelate it, I really fear being asked how I look upon it. Well, Gentlemen, whenever this question may be put to me, I shall answer thatBailly and Franklin discussing together some scientific question fromthe moment of their meeting, would have appeared to me much more worthyof each other, than the two actors of the scene at Chaillot. I will, moreover, grant that we may draw the following inference, --that even menof genius are liable to cross humours; but I must at the same time addthat the example is not dangerous, dumbness not being an efficaciousmethod of making one's self valued, or of distinguishing ourselves toadvantage. 

Bailly was nominated member of the French Academy in the place of M. DeTressan, in November, 1783. The same day, M. De Choiseul Gouffiersucceeded to D'Alembert. Thanks to the coincidence of the twonominations, Bailly escaped the sarcasms which the expectantacademicians never fail to pour out, with or without reason, againstthose who have obtained a double crown. This time they vented theirspleen exclusively on the great man, thus enabling the astronomer totake possession of his new dignity without raising the usual storm. Letus carefully collect, Gentlemen, from the early years of ouracademician's life, all that may appear an anticipated compensation forthe cruel trials that we shall have to relate in the sequel. 

The admission of the eloquent author of the _History of Astronomy_ intothe Academy, was more difficult than could be supposed by those who haveremarked to what slight works certain early and recent writers have owedthe same favour. Bailly failed three times. Fontenelle had before himunsuccessfully presented himself once oftener; but Fontenelle underwentthese successive checks without ill-humour, and without beingdiscouraged. Bailly, on the contrary, with or without reason, seeing inthese unfavourable results of the elections the immediate effect ofD'Alembert's enmity, showed himself much more hurt at it, perhaps, thanwas suitable for a philosopher. In these somewhat envenomed contests, Buffon always gave Bailly a cordial and able support. 

Bailly pronounced his reception-discourse in February, 1784. The meritsof M. De Tressan were therein celebrated with grace and delicacy. Thepanegyrist identified himself with his subject. A select public loadedwith praises various passages wherein just and profound ideas wereclothed in all the richness of a forcible and harmonious style. 

Did any one ever speak with more eloquence of the scientific powerrevealed by a contemporary discovery! Listen, Gentlemen, and judge. 

"That which the sciences can add to the privileges of the human race hasnever been more marked than at the present moment. They have acquirednew domains for man. The air seems to become as accessible to him as thewaters, and the boldness of his enterprises equals almost the boldnessof his thoughts. The name of Montgolfier, the names of those hardynavigators of the new element, will live through time; but who among us, on seeing these superb experiments, has not felt his soul elevated, hisideas expanded, his mind enlarged?"

I know not whether, all things considered, the satisfaction of self-lovewhich may be attached to academical titles, to his success in public andimportant meetings, ever completely rewarded Bailly for the heartacheshe experienced in his literary career. 

A kind and tender intimacy had grown up between the great naturalistBuffon and the celebrated astronomer. An academical nomination broke itup. You know it, Gentlemen; amongst us a nomination is the apple ofdiscord; notwithstanding the most opposite views, every one then thinksthat he is acting for the true interest of science or of letters; everyone thinks that he is proceeding in the line of strict justice; everyone endeavours earnestly to make proselytes. So far all is legitimate. But what is much less so, is forgetting that a vote is a decision, andthat in this sense the academician, like the magistrate, may say to thesuitor, whether an academician or not, "I give decrees, and notservices. "

Unfortunately, considerations of this sort, notwithstanding theirjustice, would make but little impression on the haughty and positivemind of Buffon. That great naturalist wished to have the Abbé Maurynominated; his associate Bailly thought he ought to vote for Sedaine. Let us place ourselves in the ordinary course of things, and it willappear difficult to see in this discordancy a sufficient cause for arupture between two superior men. _The Unforeseen Wager_ and _TheUnconscious Philosopher_, considerably balanced the, then very light, weight of Maury. The comic poet had already reached his sixty-sixthyear; the Abbé was young. The high character, the irreproachable conductof Sedaine, might, without disparagement, be put in comparison with whatthe public knew of the character of the official and the private life ofthe future cardinal. Whence then had the illustrious naturalist derivedsuch a great affection for Maury, such violent antipathies againstSedaine? It may be surmised that they arose from aristocratic prejudicesof rank. Nor is it impossible but that M. Le Comte de Buffoninstinctively foresaw, with some repugnance, his approachingconfraternity with a man formerly a lapidary; but was not Maury the sonof a shoemaker? This very small incident of our literary history seemeddoomed to remain in obscurity; chance has, I believe, given me the keyto it. 

You remember, Gentlemen, that aphorism continually quoted by Buffon, andof which he seemed very proud, --

 "Style makes the man. "

I have discovered that Sedaine made a counterpart of it. The author of_Richard Coeur de Lion_ and of _The Deserter_ said, --

 "Style is nothing, or next to it!"

Place this heresy, in imagination, under the eyes of the immortalwriter, whose days and nights were passed in polishing his style, and ifyou then ask me why he detested Sedaine, I shall have a right to answer:You do not know the human heart. 

Bailly firmly resisted the imperious solicitations of his former patron, and refused even to absent himself from the Academy on the day of thenomination. He did not hesitate to sacrifice the attractions andadvantages of an illustrious friendship to the performance of a duty; heanswered to him who wanted to be master, "I will be free. " Honour be tohim!

The example of Bailly warns timid men never to listen to mereentreaties, whatever may be their source; not to yield but to goodarguments. Those who have thought so little of their own tranquillity asto do any more in academical elections than to give a silent and secretvote, will see on their part, in the noble and painful resistance of anhonest man, how culpable they become in trying to substitute authorityfor persuasion, in wishing to subject conscience to gratitude. 

On the occurrence of a similar discord, the astronomer Lemonnier, of theAcademy of Sciences, said one day to Lalande, his fellow-academician andformer pupil, "I enjoin you not to put your foot again within my doorduring the semi-revolution of the lunar orbital nodes. " Calculationshows this to be nine years. Lalande submitted to the punishment with atruly astronomical punctuality; but the public, despite the scientificform of the sentence, thought it excessively severe. What then will besaid of that which was pronounced by Buffon?--"We will never see eachother more, Sir!" These words will appear at once both harsh and solemn, for they were occasioned by a difference of opinion on the comparativemerits of Sedaine and the Abbé Maury. Our friend resigned himself tothis separation, nor ever allowed his just resentment to be perceived. Imay even remark, that after this brutal disruption he showed himselfmore attentive than ever to seize opportunities of paying a legitimatehomage to the talents and eloquence of the French Pliny. 

REPORT ON ANIMAL MAGNETISM. 

We are now going to see the astronomer, the savant, the man of letters, struggling against passions of every kind, excited by the famousquestion of animal magnetism. 

At the beginning of the year 1778, a German doctor established himselfat Paris. This physician could not fail of succeeding in what was thenstyled high society. He was a stranger. His government had expelled him;acts of the greatest effrontery and unexampled charlatanism were imputedto him. 

His success, however, exceeded all expectations. The Gluckists and thePiccinists themselves forgot their differences, to occupy themselvesexclusively with the new comer. 

Mesmer, since we must call him by his name, pretended to have discoveredan agent till then totally unknown both in the arts and in physics; anuniversally distributed fluid, and serving thus as a means ofcommunication and of influence among the celestial globes;--a fluidcapable of flux and reflux, which introduced itself more or lessabundantly into the substance of the nerves, and acted on them in auseful manner, --thence the name of animal magnetism given to this fluid. 

Mesmer said: "Animal magnetism may be accumulated, concentrated, transported, without the aid of any intermediate body. It is reflectedlike light; musical sounds propagate and augment it. "

Properties so distinct, so precise, seemed as if they must be capable ofexperimental verification. It was requisite, then, to be prepared forsome instance of want of success, and Mesmer took good care not toneglect it. The following was his declaration: "Although the fluid beuniversal, all animated bodies do not equally assimilate it intothemselves; there are some even, though very few in number, that bytheir very presence destroy the effects of this fluid in the surroundingbodies. "

So soon as this was admitted, as soon it was allowed to explaininstances of non-success by the presence of neutralizing bodies, Mesmerno longer ran any risk of being embarrassed. Nothing prevented hisannouncing, in full security, "that animal magnetism could immediatelycure diseases of the nerves, and mediately other diseases; that itafforded to doctors the means of judging with certainty of the origin, the nature, and the progress of the most complicated maladies; thatnature, in short, offered in magnetism a universal means of curing andpreserving mankind. "

Before quitting Vienna, Mesmer had communicated his systematic notionsto the principal learned societies of Europe. The Academy of Sciences atParis, and the Royal Society of London, did not think proper to answer. The Academy of Berlin examined the work, and wrote to Mesmer that he wasin error. 

Some time after his arrival in Paris, Mesmer tried again to get intocommunication with the Academy of Sciences. This society even acceded toa rendezvous. But, instead of the empty words that were offered them, the academicians required experiments. Mesmer stated--I quote hiswords--that _it was child's play_; and the conference had no otherresult. 

The Royal Society of Medicine, being called upon to judge of thepretended cures performed by the Austrian doctor, thought that theiragents could not give a well-founded opinion "without having first dulyexamined the patients to ascertain their state. " Mesmer rejected thisnatural and reasonable proposal. He wished that the agents should becontent with the word of honour and attestations of the patients. Inthis respect, also, the severe letters of the worthy Vicq-d'Azyr put anend to communications which must have ended unsatisfactorily. 

The faculty of medicine showed, we think, less wisdom. It refused toexamine any thing; it even proceeded in legal form against one of itsregent doctors who had associated himself, they said, with thecharlatanism of Mesmer. 

These barren debates evidently proved that Mesmer himself was notthoroughly sure of his theory, nor of the efficacy of the means of curethat he employed. Still the public showed itself blind. The infatuationbecame extreme. French society appeared at one moment divided intomagnetizers and magnetized. From one end of the kingdom to the otheragents of Mesmer were seen, who, with receipt in hand, put the weak inintellect under contribution. 

The magnetizers had had the address to intimate that the mesmeric crisesmanifested themselves only in persons endowed with a certainsensitiveness. From that moment, in order not to be ranged among theinsensible, both men and women, when near the _rod_, assumed theappearance of epileptics. 

Was not Father Hervier really in one of those paroxysms of the diseasewhen he wrote, "If Mesmer had lived contemporary with Descartes andNewton, he would have saved them much labour: those great men suspectedthe existence of the universal fluid; Mesmer has discovered the laws ofits action"?

Count de Gébelin showed himself stranger still. The new doctrine wouldnaturally seduce him by its connection with some of the mysteriouspractices of ancient times; but the author of _The Primitive World_ didnot content himself with writing in favour of Mesmerism with theenthusiasm of an apostle. Frightful pain, violent griefs, rendered lifeinsupportable to him; Gébelin saw death approaching with satisfaction, so from that moment he begged earnestly that he might not be carried toMesmer's, where assuredly "he could not die. " We must just mention, however, that his request was not attended to; he was carried toMesmer's, and died while he was being magnetized. 

Painting, sculpture, and engraving were constantly repeating thefeatures of this Thaumaturgus. Poets wrote verses to be inscribed on thepedestals of the busts, or below the portraits. Those by Palisot deserveto be quoted, as one of the most curious examples of poetic licences:--

 "Behold that man--the glory of his age! Whose art can all Pandora's ills assuage. In skill and tact no rival pow'r is known-- E'en Greece, in him, would Esculapius own. "[7]

Enthusiasm having thus gone to the last limits in verse, enthusiasm hadbut one way left to become remarkable in prose: that is, violence. Is itnot thus that we must characterize the words of Bergasse?--"Theadversaries of animal magnetism are men who must one day be doomed tothe execration of all time, and to the punishment of the avengingcontempt of posterity. "

It is rare for violent words not to be followed by violent acts. Hereevery thing proceeded according to the natural course of human events. We know, indeed, that some furious admirers of Mesmer attempted tosuffocate Berthollet in the corner of one of the rooms of the PalaisRoyal, for having honestly said that the scenes he had witnessed did notappear to him demonstrative. We have this anecdote from Berthollethimself. 

The pretensions of the German doctor increased with the number of hisadherents. To induce him to permit only three learned men to attend hismeetings, M. De Maurepas offered him, in the name of the king, 20, 000francs a year for life, and 10, 000 annually for house-rent. Yet Mesmerdid not accept this offer, but demanded, as a national recompense, oneof the most beautiful châteaux in the environs of Paris, together withall its territorial dependencies. 

Irritated at finding his claims repulsed, Mesmer quitted France, angrily vowing her to the deluge of maladies from which it would havebeen in his power to save her. In a letter written to Marie Antoinette, the Thaumaturgus declared that he had refused the government offersthrough austerity. 

Through austerity!!! Are we then to believe that, as it was thenpretended, Mesmer was entirely ignorant of the French language; that inthis respect his meditations had been exclusively centered on thecelebrated verse--

 "Fools are here below for our amusement?"[8]

However this may be, the austerity of Mesmer did not prevent his beingmost violently angry when he learnt at Spa that Deslon continued themagnetical treatments at Paris. He returned in all haste. His partisansreceived him with enthusiasm, and set on foot a subscription of 100louis per head, which produced immediately near 400, 000 francs, (16, 000_l. _) We now feel some surprise to see, among the names of thesubscribers, those of Messrs. De Lafayette, de Ségur, d'Eprémesnil. 

Mesmer quitted France a second time about the end of 1781, in quest of amore enlightened government, who could appreciate superior minds. Heleft behind him a great number of tenacious and ardent adepts, whoseimportunate conduct at last determined the government to submit thepretended magnetic discoveries to be examined by four Doctors of theFaculty of Paris. These distinguished physicians solicited to have addedto them some members of the Academy of Sciences. M. De Breteuil thenrecommended Messrs. Le Roy, Bory, Lavoisier, Franklin, and Bailly, toform part of the mixed commission. Bailly was finally named reporter. 

The work of our brother-academician appeared in August, 1784. Never wasa complex question reduced to its characteristic traits with morepenetration and tact; never did more moderation preside at anexamination, though personal passions seemed to render it impossible;never was a scientific subject treated in a more dignified and lucidstyle. 

Nothing equals the credulity of men in whatever touches their health. This aphorism is an eternal truth. It explains how a portion of thepublic has returned to mesmeric practices; how I shall still perform aninteresting task by giving a detailed analysis of the magnificentlabours published by our fellow-academician sixty years ago. Thisanalysis will show, besides, how daring those men were, who recently, inthe bosom of another academy, constituted themselves passionatedefenders of some old women's tales, which one would have supposed hadbeen permanently buried in oblivion. 

The commissioners go in the first place to the treatment by M. Deslon, examine the famous rod, describe it carefully, relate the means adoptedto excite and direct magnetism. Bailly then draws out a varied and trulyextraordinary table of the state of the sick people. His attention isprincipally attracted by the convulsions that they designated by thename of _crisis_. He remarked that in the number of persons in thecrisis state, there were always a great many women, and very few men; hedoes not imagine any deceit, however; holds the phenomena asestablished, and passes on to search out their causes. 

According to Mesmer and his partisans, the cause of the crisis and ofthe less characteristic effects, resided in a particular fluid. It wasto search out proofs of the existence of this fluid, that thecommissioners had first to devote their efforts. Indeed, Bailly said, "Animal magnetism may exist without being useful, but it cannot beuseful if it does not exist. "

The animal magnetic fluid is not luminous and visible, like electricity;it does not produce marked and manifest effects on inert matter, as thefluid of the ordinary magnet does; finally, it has no taste. Somemagnetizers asserted that it had a smell; but repeated experimentsproved that they were in error. The existence, then, of the pretendedfluid, could be established only by its effects on animated beings. 

Curative effects would have thrown the commission into an inextricabledædalus, because nature alone, without any treatment, cures manymaladies. In this system of observations, they could not have hoped tolearn the exact part performed by magnetism, until after a great numberof cures, and after trials oftentimes repeated. 

The commissioners, therefore, had to limit themselves to instantaneouseffects of the fluid on the animal organism. 

They then submitted themselves to the experiments, but using animportant precaution. "There is no individual, " says Bailly, "in thebest state of health, who, if he closely attended to himself, would notfeel within him an infinity of movements and variations, either ofexceedingly slight pain, or of heat, in the various parts of hisbody. .. . These variations, which are continually taking place, areindependent of magnetism. .. . The first care required of thecommissioners was, not to be too attentive to what was passing withinthem. If magnetism is a real and powerful cause, we have no need tothink about it to make it act and manifest itself; it must, so to say, force the attention, and make itself perceived by even a purposelydistracted mind. "

The commissioners, magnetized by Deslon, felt no effect. After thehealthy people, some ailing ones followed, taken of all ages, and fromvarious classes of society. Among these sick people, who amounted tofourteen, five felt some effects. On the remaining nine, magnetism hadno effect whatever. 

Notwithstanding the pompous announcements, magnetism already could nolonger be considered as a certain indicator of diseases. 

Here the reporter made a capital remark: magnetism appeared to have noeffect on incredulous persons who had submitted to the trials, nor onchildren. Was it not allowable to think, that the effects obtained inthe others proceeded from a previous persuasion as to the efficacy ofthe means, and that they might be attributed to the influence ofimagination? Thence arose another system of experiments. It wasdesirable to confirm or to destroy this suspicion; "it became thereforerequisite to ascertain to what degree imagination influences oursensations, and to establish whether it could have been in part orentirely the cause of the effects attributed to magnetism. "

There could be nothing neater or more demonstrative than this portion ofthe work of the commissioners. They go first to Dr. Jumelin, who, let itbe observed, obtains the same effects, the same crises as Deslon andMesmer, by magnetizing according to an entirely different method, andnot restricting himself to any distinction of poles; they select personswho seem to feel the magnetic action most forcibly, and put theirimagination at fault by now and then bandaging their eyes. 

What happens then?

When the patients see, the seat of the sensations is exactly the partthat is magnetized; when their eyes are bandaged, they locate these samesensations by chance, sometimes in parts very far away from those towhich the magnetizer is directing his attention. The patient, whose eyesare covered, often feels marked effects at a time when they are notmagnetizing him, and remains, on the contrary, quite passive while theyare magnetizing him, without his being aware of it. 

Persons of all classes offer similar anomalies. An instructed physician, subjected to these experiments, "feels effects whilst nothing is beingdone, and often does not feel effects while he is being acted upon. Onone occasion, thinking that they had been magnetizing him for tenminutes, this same doctor fancied that he felt a heat in his lumbi, which he compared to that of a stove. "

Sensations thus felt, when no magnetizing was exerted, must evidentlyhave been the effect of imagination. 

The commissioners were too strict logicians to confine themselves withthese experiments. They had established that imagination, in someindividuals, can occasion pain, and heat--even a considerable degree ofheat--in all parts of the body; but practical female Mesmerizers didmore; they agitated certain people to that pitch, that they fell intoconvulsions. Could the effect of imagination go so far?

Some new experiments entirely did away with these doubts. 

A young man was taken to Franklin's garden at Passy, and when it wasannounced to him that Deslon, who had taken him there, had magnetized atree, this young man ran about the garden, and fell down in convulsions, but it was not under the magnetized tree: the crisis seized him whilehe was embracing another tree, very far from the former. 

Deslon selected, in the treatment of poor people, two women who hadrendered themselves remarkable by their sensitiveness around the famousrod, and took them to Passy. These women fell into convulsions wheneverthey thought themselves mesmerized, although they were not. AtLavoisier's, the celebrated experiment of the cup gave analogousresults. Some plain water engendered convulsions occasionally, whenmagnetized water did not. 

We must really renounce the use of our reason, not to perceive a proofin this collection of experiments, so well arranged that imaginationalone can produce all the phenomena observed around the mesmeric rod, and that mesmeric proceedings, cleared from the delusions ofimagination, are absolutely without effect. The commissioners, however, recommence the examination on these last grounds, multiply the trials, adopt all possible precautions, and give to their conclusions theevidence of mathematical demonstrations. They establish, finally andexperimentally, that the action of the imagination can both occasion thecrises to cease, and can engender their occurrence. 

Foreseeing that people with an inert or idle mind would be astonished atthe important part assigned to the imagination by the commissioners'experiments in the production of mesmeric phenomena, Bailly instanced:sudden affection disturbing the digestive organs; grief giving thejaundice; the fear of fire restoring the use of their legs to paralyticpatients; earnest attention stopping the hiccough; fright blanchingpeople's hair in an instant, &c. 

The touching or stroking practised in mesmeric treatments, asauxiliaries of magnetism, properly so called, required no directexperiments, since the principal agent, --since magnetism itself, haddisappeared. Bailly, therefore, confined himself, in this respect, toanatomical and physiological considerations, remarkable for theirclearness and precision. We read, also, with a lively interest, in hisreport, some ingenious reflections on the effects of imitation in thoseassemblages of magnetized people. Bailly compares them to those oftheatrical representations. He says: "Observe how much stronger theimpressions are when there are a great many spectators, and especiallyin places where there is the liberty of applauding. This sign ofparticular emotions produces a general emotion, participated in byeverybody according to their respective susceptibility. This is alsoobserved in armies on the day of battle, when the enthusiasm of courage, as well as panic-terrors, propagate themselves with so much rapidity. The sound of the drum and of military music, the noise of the cannon, ofthe musquetry, the cries, the disorder, stagger the organs, impart thesame movement to men's minds, and raise their imaginations to a similardegree. In this unity of intoxication, an impression once manifestedbecomes universal; it encourages men to charge, or determines men tofly. " Some very curious examples of imitation close this portion ofBailly's report. 

The commissioners finally examined whether these convulsions, occasionedby the imagination or by magnetism, could be useful in curing or easingthe suffering persons. The reporter said: "Undoubtedly, the imaginationof sick people often influences the cure of their maladies very much. .. . There are cases in which every thing must first be disordered, toenable us to restore order . .. But the shock must be unique . .. Whereasin the public treatment by magnetism . .. The habit of the crises cannotbut be injurious. "

This thought related to the most delicate considerations. It wasdeveloped in a report addressed to the king personally. This report wasto have remained secret, but it was published some years since. Itshould not be regretted; the magnetic treatment, regarded in a certainpoint of view, pleased sick people much; they are now aware of all itsdangers. 

In conclusion, Bailly's report completely upsets an accredited error. This was an important service, nor was it the only one. In searching forthe imaginary cause of animal magnetism, they ascertained the real powerthat man can exert over man, without the immediate and demonstrableintervention of any physical agent; they established that "the mostsimple actions and signs sometimes produce most powerful effects; thatman's action on the imagination may be reduced to an art . .. At least inregard to persons who have faith. " This work finally showed how ourfaculties should be experimentally studied; in what way psychology mayone day come to be placed among the exact sciences. 

I have always regretted that the commissioners did not judge itexpedient to add a historical chapter to their excellent work. Theimmense erudition of Bailly would have given it an inestimable value. Ifigure to myself, also, that in seeing the Mesmeric practices that havenow been in use during upwards of two thousand years, the public wouldhave asked itself whether so long an interval of time had ever beenrequired to push a good and useful thing forward into estimation. Bycircumscribing himself to this point of view, a few traits would havesufficed. 

Plutarch, for example, would have come to the aid of the reporter. Hewould have showed him Pyrrhus curing complaints of the spleen, by meansof frictions made with the great toe of his right foot. Without givingone's self up to a wild spirit of interpretation, we might be permittedto see in that fact the germ of animal magnetism. I admit that onecircumstance would have rather unsettled the savant: this was the whitecock that the King of Macedon sacrificed to the gods before beginningthese frictions. 

Vespasian, in his turn, might have figured among the predecessors ofMesmer, in consequence of the extraordinary cures that he effected inEgypt by the action of his foot. It is true that the pretended cure ofan old blindness, only by the aid of a little of that emperor's saliva, would have thrown some doubt on the veracity of Suetonius. 

Homer and Achilles are not too far back but we might have invoked theirnames. Joachim Camerarius, indeed, asserted having seen, on a veryancient copy of the Iliad, some verses that the copyists sacrificedbecause they did not understand them, and in which the poet alluded, notto the heel of Achilles (its celebrity has been well established thesethree thousand years, ) but to the medical properties possessed by thegreat toe of that same hero's right foot. 

What I regret most is, the chapter in which Bailly might have relatedhow certain adepts of Mesmer's had the hardihood to magnetize the moon, so as, on a given day, to make all the astronomers devoted to observingthat body fall into a syncope; a perturbation, by the way, that nogeometer, from Newton to Laplace, had thought of. 

The work of Bailly gave rise to trouble, spite, and anger, among theMesmerists. It was for many months the target for their combinedattacks. All the provinces of France saw refutations of the celebratedreport arise: sometimes under the form of calm discussions, decent andmoderate; but generally with all the characteristics of violence, andthe acrimony of a pamphlet. 

It would be labour thrown away now to go to the dusty shelves of somespecial library, to hunt up hundreds of pamphlets, even the titles ofwhich are now completely forgotten. The impartial analysis of thatardent controversy does not call for such labour; I believe at leastthat I shall attain my aim, by concentrating my attention on two orthree writings which, by the strength of the arguments, the merit of thestyle, or the reputation of their authors, have left some trace in men'sminds. 

In the first rank of this category of works we must place the elegantpamphlet published by Servan, under the title of _Doubts of aProvincial, proposed to the Gentlemen Medical Commissioners commanded bythe King to examine into Animal Magnetism_. 

The appearance of this little work of Servan's was saluted in the campof the Mesmerists with cries of triumph and joy. Undecided minds fellback into doubt and perplexity. Grimm wrote in Nov. 1784: "No cause isdesperate. That of magnetism seemed as if it must fall under thereiterated attacks of medicine, of philosophy, of experience and of goodsense. .. . Well, M. Servan, formerly the Attorney-General at Grenoble, has been proving that with talent we may recover from any thing, evenfrom ridicule. "

Servan's pamphlet seemed at the time the anchor of salvation for theMesmerists. The adepts still borrow from it their principal arguments. Let us see, then, whether it has really shaken Bailly's report. 

From the very commencing lines, the celebrated Attorney-General puts thequestion in terms deficient in exactness. If we believe him, thecommissioners were called to establish a parallel between magnetism andmedicine; "they were to weigh on both sides the errors and the dangers;to indicate with wise discernment what it would be desirable topreserve, and what to retrench, in the two sciences. " Thus, according toServan, the sanative art altogether would have been questioned, and theimpartiality of the physicians might appear suspicious. The clevermagistrate took care not to forget, on such an occasion, the eternalmaxim, no one can be both judge and client. Physicians, then, ought tohave been excepted. 

There then follows a legitimate homage to the non-graduatedacademicians, members of the commission: "Before Franklin and Bailly, "says the author, "every knee must bend. The one has invented much, theother has discovered much; Franklin belongs to the two worlds, and allages seem to belong to Bailly. " But arming himself afterwards with morecleverness than uprightness, with these words of the reporter, "Thecommissioners, especially the doctors, made an infinity of experiments, "he insinuates under every form that the commissioners accepted of a verypassive line of conduct. Thus, putting aside the most positivedeclarations, pretending even to forget the name, the titles of thereporter, Servan no longer sees before him but one class of adversaries, regent doctors of the Faculty of Paris, and then he gives full scope tohis satirical vein. He holds it even as an honour that they do notregard him as impartial. "The doctors have killed me; what it haspleased them to leave me of life is not worth, in truth, my seeking amilder term. .. . For these twenty years I have always been worse throughthe remedies administered to me than through my maladies. .. . Even wereanimal magnetism a chimera, it should be tolerated; it would still beuseful to mankind, by saving many individuals among them from theincontestable dangers of vulgar medicine. .. . I wish that medicine, solong accustomed to deceive itself, should still deceive itself now, andthat the famous report be nothing but a great error. .. . " Amidst thesesingular declarations, there are hundreds of epigrams still moreremarkable by their ingenious and lively turn than by their novelty. Ifit were true, Gentlemen, that the medical corps had ever tried, knowingly, to impose on the vulgar, to hide the uncertainty of theirknowledge, the weakness of their theories, the vagueness of theirconceptions, under an obscure and pedantic jargon, the immortal andlaughable sarcasms of Molière would not have been more than an act ofstrict justice. In all cases every thing has its day; now, towards theend of the eighteenth century, the most delicate, the most thorny pointsof doctrine were discussed with an entire good faith, with perfectlucidity, and in a style that placed many members of the faculty in therank Of our best speakers. Servan, however, goes beyond the limits of ascientific discussion, when, without any sort of excuse, he accuses hisadversaries of being anti-mesmerists through esprit de corps, and, whatis worse, through cupidity. 

Servan is more in his element when he points out that the present bestestablished medical theories occasioned at their birth prolongeddebates; when he reminds us that several medicines have been alternatelyproscribed and recommended with vehemence: the author might even havemore deeply undermined this side of his subject. Instead of someunmeaning jokes, why did he not show us, for example, in a neighbouringcountry, two celebrated physicians, Mead and Woodward, deciding, swordin hand, the quarrel that had arisen between them as to the purgativetreatment of a patient? We should then have heard Woodward, piercedthrough and through, rolling on the ground, and drenched in blood, sayto his adversary with an exhausted voice: "The blow was harsh, but yet Iprefer it to your medicine!"

It is not truth alone that has the privilege of rendering menpassionate. Such was the legitimate result of these retrospective views. I now ask myself whether, by labouring to put the truth of this aphorismin full light, the passionate advocate of Mesmerism showed proof ofability!

Gentlemen, let us put all these personal attacks aside, all theserecriminations against science and its agents, who unfortunately had notsucceeded in restoring the health of the morose magistrate. What remainsthen of his pamphlet? Two chapters, only two chapters, in which Bailly'sreport is treated seriously. The medical commissioners and the membersof the Academy had not seen, in the real effects of Mesmerism anythingmore than was occasioned by imagination. The celebrated magistrateexclaims on this subject, "Any one hearing this proposition spoken ofwould suppose, before reading the report, that the commissioners hadtreated and cured, or considerably relieved by the force of imagination, large tumours, inveterate obstructions, gutta serenas, and strongparalyses. " Servan admitted, in short, that magnetism had effected mostwonderful cures. But there lay all the question. The cures beingadmitted, the rest followed as a matter of course. 

However incredible these cures might be, they must be admitted, theysaid, when numerous witnesses certified their truth. Was it owing tochance that attestations were wanting for the miracles at the Cemeteryof St. Médard? Did not the counsellor to the parliament, Montgeron, state, in three large quarto volumes, the names of a great multitude ofindividuals who protested on their honour as illuminati, that the tombof the Deacon, Páris, had restored sight to the blind, hearing to thedeaf, strength to the paralytic; that in a twinkling it cured ailingpeople of gouty rheumatism, of dropsy, of epilepsy, of phthisis, ofabscesses, of ulcers, &c. ? Did these attestations, although manyemanated from persons of distinction, from the Chevalier Folard, forexample, prevent the convulsionists from becoming the laughingstock ofEurope? Did they not see the Duchess of Maine herself laugh at theirprowess in the following witty couplet?--

 "A scavenger at the palace-gate Who, his left heel being lame, Obtained as a most special grace, That his right should ail the same. "[9]

Was not government, urged to the utmost, at last obliged to interfere, when the multitude, carrying folly to the extremest bounds, was going totry to resuscitate the dead? In short, do we not remember the amusingdistich, affixed at the time to the gate of the Cemetery of St. Médard?--

 "By royal decree, we prohibit the gods To work any miracles near to these sods. "[10]

Servan must have known better than any one that in regard to testimony, and in questions of complex facts, quality always carries the day overmere numbers; let us add, that quality does not result either fromtitles of nobility, or from riches, nor from the social position, noreven from a certain sort of celebrity. What we must seek for in awitness is a calmness of mind and of feeling, a store of knowledge, anda very rare thing, notwithstanding the name it bears, common sense; onthe other hand, what we must most avoid is the innate taste of somepersons for the extraordinary, the wonderful, the paradoxical. Servandid not at all recollect these precepts in the criticism he wrote onBailly's work. 

We have already remarked that the Commissioners of the Academy and ofthe Faculty did not assert that the Mesmeric meetings were alwaysineffectual. They only saw in the crises the mere results ofimagination; nor did any sort of magnetic fluid reveal itself to theireyes. I will also prove, that imagination alone generated the refutationthat Servan gave to Bailly's theory. "You deny, " exclaims theattorney-general, "you deny, gentlemen commissioners, the existence ofthe fluid which Mesmer has made to act such an important part! Imaintain, on the contrary, not only that this fluid exists, but alsothat it is the medium by the aid of which all the vital functions areexcited; I assert that imagination is one of the phenomena engendered bythis agent; that its greater or less abundance in this or that among ourorgans, may totally change the normal intellectual state ofindividuals. "

Everybody agrees that too great a flow of blood towards the brainproduces a stupefaction of the mind. Analogous or inverse effects mightevidently be produced by a subtle, invisible, imponderable fluid, by asort of nervous fluid, or magnetic fluid (if this term be preferred), circulating through our organs. And the commissioners took good care notto speak on this subject of impossibility. Their thesis was more modest;they contented themselves with saying that nothing demonstrated theexistence of such a fluid. Imagination, therefore, had no share in theirreport; but in Servan's refutation, on the contrary, imagination was thechief actor. 

One thing that was still less proved, if possible, than any of thosethat we have been speaking of, is the influence that the magnetic fluidof the magnetizer might exert on the magnetized person. 

In magnetism, properly so called, in that which physicists have studiedwith so much care and success, the phenomena are constant. They arereproduced exactly under the same conditions of form, of duration, andof quantity, when certain bodies, being present to each other, findthemselves exactly in the same relative positions. That is the essentialand necessary character of all purely material and mechanical action. Was it thus in the pretended phenomena of animal magnetism? In no way. To-day the crises would occur in the space of some seconds; to-morrowthey may require several entire hours; and finally, on another day, other circumstances remaining the same, the effect would be positivelynull. A certain magnetizer exercised a brisk action on a certainpatient, and was absolutely powerless on another who, on the contrary, entered into a crisis under the earliest efforts of a second magnetizer. Instead of one or two universal fluids, there must, then, to explain thephenomena, be as many distinct fluids, and constantly acting, as thereexist animated or inanimate beings in the world. 

The necessity of such a hypothesis evidently upset Mesmerism from itsvery foundations; yet the illuminati did not judge thus. All bodiesbecame a focus of special emanations, more or less subtle, more or lessabundant, and more or less dissimilar. So far the hypothesis found veryfew contradictors, even among rigorous minds; but soon these individualcorporeal emanations were endowed, relatively towards those, (withoutthe least appearance of proof, ) either with a great power ofassimilation, or with a decided antagonism, or with a completeneutrality; but they pretended to see in these occult qualities thematerial causes of the most mysterious affections of the soul. Oh! thendoubt had a legitimate right to take possession of all those minds thathad been taught by the strict proceedings of science not to restsatisfied with vain words. In the singular system that I have beenexplaining, when Corneille says, --

 "There are some secret knots, some sympathies, By whose relations sweet assorted souls Attach themselves the one to the other. .. . "[11]

and when the celebrated Spanish Jesuit Balthazar Gracian spoke of thenatural relationship of minds and hearts, both the one and the otheralluded, assuredly without suspecting it, to the mixture, penetration, and easy crossing of two atmospheres. 

"I love thee not, Sabidus, " wrote Martial, "and I know not why; all thatI can tell thee is, that I love thee not. " Mesmerists would soon haverelieved the poet from his doubts. If Martial loved not Sabidus, it wasbecause their atmospheres could not intermingle without occasioning akind of storm. 

Plutarch informs us that the conqueror of Arminius fainted at the sightof a cock. Antiquity was astonished at this phenomenon. What could bemore simple, however? the corporeal emanations of Germanicus and of thecock exercised a repulsive action the one on the other. 

The illustrious biographer of Cheronea declares, it is true, that thepresence of the cock was not requisite, that its crowing producedexactly the same effect on the adopted son of Tiberius. Now, the crowingmay be heard a long way off; the crowing, then, would seem to possessthe power of transporting the corporeal emanations of the king of thelower court with great rapidity through space. The thing may appeardifficult to believe. As for myself, I think it would be puerile to stopat such a difficulty; have we not leaped high over other difficultiesfar more embarrassing?

The Maréchal d'Albret was still worse off than Germanicus: theatmosphere that made him fall into a syncope exhaled from the head of awild boar. A live, complete, whole wild boar produced no effect; but onperceiving the head of the animal detached from the body, the Maréchalwas struck as if with lightning. You see, gentlemen, to what sad trialsmilitary men would be exposed, if the Mesmerian theory of atmosphericconflicts were to regain favour. We ought to be carefully on our guardagainst a ruse de guerre, of which no one till then had everthought, --that is, against cocks, wild boars, &c. , --for through them anarmy might suddenly be deprived of its commander-in-chief. "It wouldalso be requisite not to entrust command, " Montaigne says, "to men whowould fly from apples more than from arquebusades. "

It is not only amongst the corpuscular emanations of living animals thatthe Mesmerists asserted conflicts to occur. They unhesitatingly extendedtheir speculations to dead bodies. Some ancients dreamt that a catgutcord made of a wolf's intestines would never strike in unison with onemade from a lamb's intestine; a discord of atmospheres renders thephenomenon possible. It is still a conflict of corporeal emanations thatexplains the other aphorism of an ancient philosopher: "The sound of adrum made with a wolf's skin takes away all sonorousness from a drummade with a lamb's skin. "

Here I pause, Gentlemen. Montesquieu said: "When God created the brainsof human beings, he did not intend to guarantee them. "

To conclude: Servan's witty, piquant, agreeably written pamphlet wasworthy under this triple claim of the reception with which the publichonoured it; but it did not shake, in any one part, the lucid, majestic, elegant report by Bailly. The magistrate of Grénoble has said, that inhis long experience he had met men accustomed to reflect withoutlaughing, and other men who only wished to laugh without reflecting. Bailly thought of the first class when he wrote his memorable report. _The Doubts of the Provincial man_ were destined only for the otherclass. 

It was also to these light and laughing souls that Servan exclusivelyaddressed himself some time after, if it be true that the _Queries ofthe young Doctor Rhubarbini de Purgandis_ were written by him. 

Rhubarbini de Purgandis sets to work manfully. In his opinion the reportby Franklin, by Lavoisier, by Bailly, is, in the scientific life ofthose learned men, what the _Monades_ were for Leibnitz, the_Whirlwinds_ for Descartes, the _Commentary on the Apocalypse_ forNewton. These examples may enable us to judge of the rest, and renderall farther refutation unnecessary. 

Bailly's report destroyed root and branch the ideas, the systems, thepractices of Mesmer and of his adepts. Let us add sincerely that we haveno right to appeal to him in regard to modern somnambulism. The greaterportion of the phenomena now grouped around that name were neither knownnor announced in 1783. A magnetizer certainly says the most improbablething in the world, when he affirms that a given individual in the stateof somnambulism can see every thing in the most profound darkness, thathe can read through a wall, and even without the help of his eyes. Butthe improbability of these announcements does not result from thecelebrated report, for Bailly does not mention such marvels, neither inpraise nor dispraise; he does not say one word about them. Thephysicist, the doctor, the merely curious man who gives himself up toexperiments in somnambulism, who thinks he must examine whether, incertain states of nervous excitement, some individuals are reallyendowed with extraordinary faculties; with the faculty, for example, ofreading with their stomach, or with their heel; people who wish to knowexactly up to what point the phenomena so boldly asserted by themagnetizers of our epoch may be within the domain of rogues and sharks;all such people, we say, do not at all deny the authority of the subjectin question, nor do they put themselves really in opposition to theLavoisiers, the Franklins, or the Baillys; they dive into an entirelynew world, of which those illustrious learned men did not even suspectthe existence. 

I cannot approve of the mystery adopted by some grave learned men, who, in the present day, attend experiments on somnambulism. Doubt is a proofof diffidence, and has rarely been inimical to the progress of science. We could not say the same of incredulity. He who, except in puremathematics, pronounces the word _impossible_, is deficient in prudence. Reserve is especially requisite when we treat of animal organization. 

Our senses, notwithstanding twenty-four centuries of study, observations, and researches, are far from being an exhausted subject. Take, for example, the ear. A celebrated natural philosopher, Wollaston, occupied himself with it; and immediately we learn, that with an equalsensibility as regards the low notes a certain individual can hear thehighest tones, whilst another cannot hear them at all; and it becomesproved that certain men, with perfectly sound organs, never heard thecricket in the chimney-corner, yet did not doubt but that batsoccasionally utter a piercing cry; and attention being once awakened tothese singular results, observers have found the most extraordinarydifferences of sensibility between their right ear and their left ear, &c. 

Our vision offers phenomena not less curious, and an infinitely vasterfield of research. Experience has proved, for example, that some peopleare absolutely blind to certain colours, as red, and enjoy perfectvision relatively to yellow, to green, and to blue. If the Newtoniantheory of emission be true, we must irrevocably admit that a ray ceasesto be light as soon as we diminish its velocity by one ten thousandthpart. Thence flow those natural conjectures, which are well worthy ofexperimental examination: all men do not see by the same rays; decideddifferences may exist in this respect in the same individual duringvarious nervous states; it is possible that the calorific rays, the darkrays of one person, may be the luminous rays of another person, andreciprocally; the calorific rays traverse some substances freely, whichare therefore called diathermal, these substances, thus far, had beencalled opaque, because they transmit no ray commonly called luminous;now the words opaque and diathermal have no absolute meaning. Thediathermals allow those rays to pass through which constitute the lightof one man; and they stop those which constitute the light of anotherman. Perhaps in this way the key of many phenomena might be found, thattill now have remained without any plausible explanation. 

Nothing, in the marvels of somnambulism, raised more doubts than anoft-repeated assertion, relative to the power which certain persons aresaid to possess in a state of crisis, of deciphering a letter at adistance with the foot, the nape of the neck, or the stomach. The word_impossible_ in this instance seemed quite legitimate. Still, I do notdoubt but some rigid minds would withhold it after having reflected onthe ingenious experiments by which Moser produces, also at a distance, very distinct images of all sorts of objects, on all sorts of bodies, and in the most complete darkness. 

When we call to mind in what immense proportion electric or magneticactions increase by motion, we shall be less inclined to deride therapid actions of magnetizers. 

In here recording these developed reflections, I wished to show thatsomnambulism must not be rejected _à priori_, especially by those whohave kept well up with the recent progress of the physical sciences. Ihave indicated some facts, some resemblances, by which magnetizers mightdefend themselves against those who would think it superfluous toattempt new experiments, or even to see them performed. For my part, Ihesitate not to acknowledge it, although, notwithstanding thepossibilities that I have pointed out, I do not admit the reality of thereadings, neither through a wall, nor through any other opaque body, norby the mere intromission of the elbow, or the occiput, --still, I shouldnot fulfil the duties of an academician if I refused to attend themeetings where such phenomena were promised me, provided they granted mesufficient influence as regards the proofs, for me to feel assured thatI was not become the victim of mere jugglery. 

Nor did Franklin, Lavoisier, or Bailly believe in Mesmeric magnetismbefore they became members of the Government Commission, and yet we mayhave remarked with what minute and scrupulous care they varied theexperiments. True philosophers ought to have constantly before theireyes those two beautiful lines:--

 "To suppose that every thing has been discovered is a profound error: It is mistaking the horizon for the limits of the world. "[12]

FOOTNOTES:

[7]

 "Le voilà, ce mortel, dont le siècle s'honore, Par qui sont replongés au séjour infernal Tous les fléaux vengeurs que déchaîna Pandore; Dans son art bienfaisant il n'a pas de rival, Et la Grèce l'eut pris pour le dieu d'Epidaure. "

[8]

 "Les sots sont ici-bas pour nos menus plaisirs. "

[9]

 "Un décrotteur â la royale, Du talon gauche estropié, Obtint pour grace spéciale D'être boiteux de l'autre pié. "

[10]

 "De par le Roi, défense à Dieu D'opérer miracle en ce lieu!"

[11]

 "Il est des noeuds secrets, il est des sympathies, Dont par les doux rapports les âmes assorties S'attachent l'une à l'autre. "

[12]

 "Croire tout découvert est un erreur profonde: C'est prendre l'horizon pour les bornes du monde. "

ELECTION OF BAILLY INTO THE ACADEMY OF INSCRIPTIONS. 

In speaking of the pretended identity of the Atlantis, or of the kingdomof Ophir under Solomon with America, Bailly says, in his fourteenthletter to Voltaire: "Those ideas belonged to the age of learned men, butnot to the philosophic age. " And elsewhere (in the twenty-first letter)we read these words: "Do not fear that I shall fatigue you by heavyerudition. " To have supposed that erudition could be heavy and bedeficient in philosophy, was for certain people of a secondary order anunpardonable crime. And thus we saw men, excited by a sentiment of hate, arm themselves with a critical microscope, and painfully seek outimperfections in the innumerable quotations with which Bailly hadstrengthened himself. The harvest was not abundant; yet, these eagerferrets succeeded in discovering some weak points, some interpretationsthat might be contested. Their joy then knew no bounds. Bailly wastreated with haughty disdain: "His literary erudition was verysuperficial; he had not the key of the sanctuary of antiquity; he waseverywhere deficient in languages. "

That it might not be supposed that these reproaches had any reference toOriental literature, Bailly's adversaries added: "that he had not theleast tincture of the ancient languages; that he did not know Latin. "

He did not know Latin? And do you not see, you stupid enemies of thegreat Astronomer, that if it had been possible to compose such learnedworks as _The History of Astronomy_, and _The Letters on the Atlantis_, without referring to the original texts, by using translations only, youwould no longer have preserved any importance in the literary world. How is it that you did not remark, that by despoiling Bailly (and veryarbitrarily) of the knowledge of Latin, you showed the inutility ofstudying that language to become both one of your best writers, and oneof the most illustrious philosophers of the age?

The Academy of Inscriptions and Belles Lettres, far from participatingin these puerile rancours, in the blind prejudices of some lost childrenof erudition, called Bailly to its bosom in 1785. Till then, Fontenellealone had had the honour of belonging to the three great Academies ofFrance. Bailly always showed himself very proud of a distinction whichassociated his name in an unusual manner with that of the illustriouswriter, whose eulogies contributed so powerfully to make science andscientific men known and respected. 

Independently of this special consideration, Bailly, as member of theFrench Academy, could all the better appreciate the suffrages of theAcademy of Inscriptions, since there existed at that time between thosetwo illustrious Societies a strong and inexplicable feeling of rivalry. This had even proceeded so far, that by a most solemn deliberation ofthe Academy of Inscriptions, any of its members would have ceased tobelong to it, would have been irrevocably expelled, if they had evenonly endeavoured to be received into the French Academy; and the kinghaving annulled this deliberation, fifteen academicians bound themselvesby oath to observe all its stipulations notwithstanding; furthermore, in1783, Choiseul Gouffier, who was accused of having adhered to theprinciples of the fifteen confederates, and then of having allowedhimself to be nominated by the rival Academy, was summoned by Anquetilto appear before the Tribunal of the Marshals of France for havingbroken his word of honour. 

But, I may be allowed here to remark, superior men have always had theprivilege of upsetting, by the mere influence of their name, theobstacles that routine, prejudices, and jealousy wished to oppose to theprogress and the union of souls. 

REPORT ON THE HOSPITALS. 

Scientific tribunals, which should pronounce in the first instance whileawaiting the definitive judgment of the public, were one of therequisites of our epoch; and thus, without any formal prescription ofits successive regulations, the Academy of Sciences has been graduallyled on to appoint committees to examine all the papers that have beenpresented to it, and to pronounce on their novelty, merit, andimportance. This labour is generally an ungrateful one, and withoutglory, but talent has immense privileges; entrust Bailly with thosesimple Academical Reports, and their publication becomes an event. 

M. Poyet, architect and comptroller of buildings in Paris, presented toGovernment in the course of the year 1785, a paper wherein he strove toestablish the necessity of removing the Hôtel Dieu, and building a newhospital in another locality. This document, submitted by order of theking to the judgment of the Academy, gave rise, directly or indirectly, to three deliberations. The Academic Commissioners were, Lassone, Tenou, Tillet, Darcet, Daubenton, Bailly, Coulomb, Laplace, and Lavoisier. Itwas Bailly, however, who constantly held the pen. His reports have beenhonoured with a great and just celebrity. The progress of science wouldnow perhaps allow of some modification being made in the ideas of theillustrious commissioners. Their views on warming-rooms, on their size, on ventilation, on general health, might, for example, receive some realameliorations; but nothing could add to the sentiments of respectinspired by Bailly's work. What clearness of exposition! What neatness, what simplicity of style! Never did a writer put himself more completelyout of view; never did a man more sincerely seek to make the sacredcause of humanity triumph. The interest that Bailly takes in the poor isdeep, but always exempt from parade; his words are moderate, full ofgentleness, even where hasty feelings of anger and indignation wouldhave been legitimate. Of anger and of indignation! Yes, Gentlemen;listen, and decide!

I have cited the names of the commissioners. At no time, and in nocountry, could more virtue and learning have been united. These selectmen, regulating themselves in this respect according to the most commonlogic, felt that the task of pronouncing on a reform of the Hôtel Dieuimposed on them the necessity of examining that establishment. "We haveasked, " said their interpreter, "we have asked the Board ofAdministration to permit us to see the hospital in detail, andaccompanied by some one who could guide and instruct us . .. We requiredto know several particulars; we asked for them, but we obtainednothing. "

We have obtained nothing! These are the sad, the incredible words, thatmen so worthy of respect are obliged to insert in the first line oftheir report!

What then was the authority that allowed itself to be so deficient inthe most usual respect towards commissioners invested with theconfidence of the King, the Academy, and the Public? This authorityconsisted of several administrators (the type of them, it is said, isnot quite lost), who looked upon the poor as their patrimony, whodevoted to them a disinterested but unproductive activity; who wereimpatient at any amelioration, the germ of which had not developeditself either in their own heads, or in those of certain men, philanthropic by nature, or by the privilege of their station. Ah! if byenlightened and constant care that vast asylum, opened to poverty andsickness, near Notre-Dame, had been then conducted, now sixty years ago, only in a tolerable way, we should have understood how, in taking humannature into consideration, the promoters of this great benefit wouldhave repelled an examination that seemed to throw a doubt on their zealand on their good sense. But alas! let us take from Bailly's work a fewtraits of the moderate and faithful picture that he drew of the HôtelDieu, and you shall decide, Gentlemen, whether the susceptibility of theadministrators was authorized; whether, on the contrary, they ought notthemselves to have anticipated the unhoped-for help from the king'spower, united to science, which was now offered to them; whether byretarding certain ameliorations by a single day, they did not commit thecrime of lèse-humanity. 

In 1786, infirmities of all sorts were treated at the Hôtel Dieu:surgical maladies, chronic maladies, contagious maladies, femalediseases, infantine diseases, &c. Every thing was admitted, but allpresented an inevitable confusion. 

A patient on arriving was often laid in the bed and in the sheets of aman who had had the itch, and had just died. 

The department reserved for madmen being very confined, two were put tosleep together. Two madmen in the same sheets! Nature revolts at thevery thought of it. 

In the ward of St. Francis, reserved exclusively for men having thesmallpox, there were sometimes, for want of other space, as many as sixadults or eight children in a bed not a mètre and a half wide. 

The women attacked with this frightful disease were mixed in the ward ofSt. Monique with others who had only a simple fever, and the latter fellan inevitable prey to the hideous contagion, in the very place where, full of confidence, they had hoped to recover their health. 

Women with child, women in their confinement, were equally crowded, pell-mell, on narrow and infected truckle-beds. 

Nor let it be supposed that I have borrowed from Bailly's Report somepurely exceptional cases, belonging to those cruel times, when wholepopulations, suffering under some epidemic, were tried beyond all humananticipation. In their usual state, the beds of the Hôtel Dieu, whichwere not a mètre and a half wide, contained four, and often sixpatients; they were placed alternately head and feet, the feet of onetouching the shoulders of the next; each had only for his share of space25 centimetres (9 inches); now, a man of medium size, lying with hisarms close to his body, is 48 centimetres (16 inches) broad at theshoulders. The poor patients then could not keep within the bed but bylying on their side perfectly immovable; no one could turn withoutpushing, without waking his neighbour; they therefore used to agree, asfar as their illness would allow, for some of them to remain up part ofthe night in the space between the beds, whilst the others slept; andwhen the approaches of death nailed these unfortunate people to theirplace, did they not energetically curse that help, which in such asituation could only prolong their painful agony. 

But it was not only that beds thus placed were a source of discomfort, of disgust; that they prevented rest and sleep; that an insupportableheat occasioned and propagated diseases of the skin and frightfulvermin; that the fever patient bedewed his neighbours with his profuseperspirations; and that in the critical moment he might be chilled bycontact with those whose hot fit would occur later, &c. Still moreserious effects resulted from the presence of many sick in the same bed;the food, the medicines, intended for one person, often found their wayto another. In short, Gentlemen, in those beds of multiple population, the dead often lay for hours, and sometimes whole nights, intermingledwith the living. The principal charitable establishment in Paris thusoffered those dreadful coincidences, that the poets of Rome, thatancient historians have represented under King Mezentius, as the utmostextreme of barbarism. 

Such was, Gentlemen, the normal state of the old Hôtel Dieu. One word, one word only, will suffice to tell what was the exceptional state: theyplaced some patients on the tops or testers of those same beds, where wehave found so much suffering, so many authorized maledictions. 

Now, Gentlemen, let us, together with our fellow academician, cast aglance on the ward of surgical operations. 

This ward was full of patients. The operations were performed in theirpresence. Bailly says, "We see there the preparations for the torment;there are heard the cries of the tormented. He who has to suffer thenext day has before him a picture of his own future sufferings; he whohas passed through this terrible trial, must be deeply moved at thosecries so similar to his own, and must feel his agonies repeated; andthese terrors, these emotions, he experiences in the midst of theprogress of inflammation or suppuration, retarding his recovery, and atthe hazard of his life. ". .. "To what purpose, " Bailly justly exclaims, "would you make an unfortunate man suffer, if there is not a probabilityof saving him, and unless we increase that probability by all possibleprecautions?"

The heart aches, the mind becomes confused, at the sight of so muchmisery; and yet this hospital, so little in harmony with its intendedpurpose, still existed sixty years ago. It is in a capital, the centreof the arts, of knowledge, of polished manners; it is in an age renownedfor the development of public wealth, for the progress of luxury, forthe ruinous creation of a crowd of establishments devoted to amusements, to worldly and futile pleasures; it is by the side of the palace of anopulent archbishop; it is at the gate of a sumptuous cathedral, that theunfortunate, under the deceitful mask of charity, underwent suchdreadful tortures. To whom should we impute the long duration of thisvicious and inhuman organization?

To the professors of the art? No, no, Gentlemen! By an inconceivableanomaly the physicians, the surgeons, never obtained more than asecondary, a subordinate influence over the administration of thehospitals. No, no, the sentiments of the medical body for the poor couldnot be doubted, at an epoch and in a country where Dr. Anthony Petitthus answered the irritated queen, Marie Antoinette: "Madam, if I camenot yesterday to Versailles, it was because I was attending the lying-inof a peasant, who was in the greatest danger. Your Majesty errs, however, in supposing that I neglect the Dauphin for the poor; I havehitherto treated the young child with as much attention and care as ifhe had been the son of one of your grooms. "

Preference was granted to the most suffering, to those in most danger, disregarding rank and fortune; such was, you see, Gentlemen, the sublimerule of the French Medical Corps; and such is still its gospel. I wantno other proof of it than those admirable words addressed by our fellowlabourer Larrey, to his friend Tanchou, when wounded at the Battle ofMontmirail: "Your wound is slight, sir; we have only room and straw inthis ambulance for serious wounds. They will take you into that stable. "

The medical corps could not, therefore, with any reason be accused orsuspected in regard to the old Hôtel Dieu of Paris. 

If economy be invoked, I find an answer quite à-propos in Bailly: thedaily allowance for the patients at the Hôtel Dieu was notably higherthan in other establishments in the capital more charitably organized. 

Would any one go so far as to assert that the sick condemned to seekrefuge in the hospitals, having their sensibilities blunted by labour, by misery, by their daily sufferings, would but faintly feel the effectsof the horrible arrangements that the old Hôtel Dieu revealed to allclear-sighted people? I will quote from the report of our colleague;"The maladies continue nearly double the time at the Hôtel Dieu, compared with those at the Charité: the mortality there is also nearlydouble!. .. All the trepanned die in that hospital; whilst thisoperation is tolerably successful in Paris, and still more so atVersailles. "

The maladies continue double the time! The mortality there is double!All those who are trepanned die! The lying-in women die in a frightfulproportion, &c. These are the sinister words that strike the eyeperiodically in the statements of the Hôtel Dieu; and yet, let us repeatit, years passed away, and nothing was altered in the organization ofthe great hospital! Why persist in remaining in a condition that soopenly wounds humanity? Must we, together with Cabanis, who also abusedthe old Hôtel Dieu severely, "must we exclaim, that abuses known by allthe world, against which every voice is raised, have secret supporterswho know how to defend them, in a manner to tire out well-meaningpeople? Must we speak of false characters, perverse hearts, that seemedto regard errors and abuses as their patrimony?" Let us dare toacknowledge it, Gentlemen, evil is generally perpetrated in a lesswicked manner: it is done without the intervention of any strongpassion; by vulgar, yet all-powerful routine, and ignorance. I observethe same thought, though couched in the calm and cleverly circumspectlanguage of Bailly: "The Hôtel Dieu has existed perhaps since theseventh century, and if this hospital is the most imperfect of all, itis because it is the oldest. From the earliest date of thisestablishment, good has been sought, the desire has been to adhere toit, and constancy has appeared a duty. From this cause, all usefulnovelties have with difficulty found admission; any reform is difficult;there is a numerous administration to convince; there is an immense massto move. "

The immensity of the mass, however, did not discourage the oldCommissioners of the Academy. Let this conduct serve as an example tolearned men, to administrators, who might be called upon to cast aninvestigating eye on the whole of our beneficent and humaneestablishments. Undoubtedly, the abuses, if any yet exist, have notindividually any thing to be compared to those to which Bailly's reportdid justice; but would it be impossible for them to have sprung upafresh in the course of half a century, and that in proportion to theirmultiplicity, they should still make enormous and deplorable breaches inthe patrimony of the poor?

I shall modify very slightly, Gentlemen, the concluding words of ourillustrious colleague's report, and I shall not in the least alter theirinnate meaning, if I say, in finishing this long analysis: "Each poorman is now laid alone in a bed, and he owes it principally to thegifted, persevering, and courageous efforts of the Academy of Sciences. The poor man ought to know it, and the poor man will not forget it. "Happy, Gentlemen, happy the academy that can adorn itself with suchreminiscences!

REPORT ON THE SLAUGHTER-HOUSES. 

An attentive glance at the past has been, in all ages and in allcountries, the infallible means of rightly appreciating the present. When we direct this glance to the sanitary state of Paris, the name ofBailly will again present itself in the first line amongst the promotersof a capital amelioration, which I shall point out in a few words. 

Notwithstanding the numerous acts of parliament, --notwithstanding thepositive police regulations, which dated back to Charles IX. , to HenryIII. , to Henry IV. , slaughter-houses still existed in the interior ofthe capital in 1788; for instance, at l'Apport-Paris, La Croix-Rouge, inthe streets of the Butcheries, Mont-Martre, Saint-Martin, Traversine, &c. &c. The oxen were, consequently, driven in droves through frequentedparts of the town; enraged by the noise of the carriages, by theexcitements of the children, by the attacks or barking of the wanderingdogs, they often sought to escape, --entered houses or alleys, spreadalarm everywhere, gored people, and committed great damage. Fetid gasesexhaled from buildings too small and badly ventilated; the offal thathad to be carried away gave out an insupportable smell; the blood flowedthrough the gutters of the neighbourhood, with other remains of theanimals, and putrefied there. The melting of tallow, an inevitableannexation of all slaughter-houses, spread around disgusting emanations, and occasioned a constant danger of fire. 

So inconvenient, so repulsive a state of things, awakened the solicitudeof individuals and of the public administration; the problem wassubmitted to our predecessors, and Bailly, as usual, became the reporterof the Academical Committee. The other members were Messrs. Tillet, Darcet, Daubenton, Coulomb, Lavoisier, and Laplace. 

When Napoleon, wishing to liberate Paris from the dangerous andinsalubrious results of internal slaughter-houses, decreed theconstruction of the fine slaughter-houses known by everybody, he foundthe subject already well examined, exhibited in all its points of view, in Bailly's excellent work. "We ask, " said the reporter of theAcademical Commission in 1788, "we ask that the shambles be removed to adistance from the interior of Paris;" and these interior shambles havedisappeared accordingly. Does it create surprise that it required morethan fifteen years to obtain the grant of this most reasonable demand?I will further remark that, unfortunately, there was nothing exceptionalin this; he who sows a thought in a field rank with prejudices, withprivate interests, and with routine, must never expect an early harvest. 

BIOGRAPHIES OF COOK AND OF GRESSET. 

The publication of the five quarto volumes of which _the History ofAstronomy_ consists, together with the two powerful _reports_ that Ihave just described, had worn out Bailly. To relax and amuse his mind, he resumed the style of composition that had enchanted him in his youth;he wrote some biographies, amongst others, that of Captain Cook, proposed as a prize-subject by the Academy of Marseilles, and the Lifeof Gresset. 

The biography of Gresset first appeared anonymously. This circumstancegave rise to a singular scene, which the author used to relate with asmile. I will here myself repeat the principal traits of it, if it beonly to deter writers, whoever they may be, from launching their worksinto the world without affixing their names to them. 

The Marchioness of Créqui was a lady in the high circles of society, towhom a copy of the eulogium of the author of _Vert-Vert_ was presentedas an offering. Some days after Bailly went to pay her a visit; did hehope to hear her speak favourably of the new work? I know not. At allevents, our predecessor would have been ill rewarded for his curiosity. 

"Do you know, " said the great lady as soon as she saw him, "a Eulogy ofGresset recently published? The author has sent me a copy of it, withoutnaming himself. He will probably come to see me; he may, perhaps, havecome already. What could I say to him? I do not think any one ever wroteworse. He mistakes obscurity for profundity; it is the darkness beforethe creation. "

Notwithstanding all Bailly's efforts to change the subject of theconversation, perhaps on account of those very efforts, the Marchionessrose, goes in search of the pamphlet, puts it into the author's hands, and begs of him to read aloud, if it be but the first page--quiteenough, she said, to enable one to judge of the rest. 

Bailly used to read remarkably well. I leave it to be guessed whether, on this occasion, he was able to exercise this talent. Superfluoustrouble! Madame de Créqui interrupted him at each sentence by the mostdisagreeable commentaries, by exclamations such as the following:"Detestable style!" "Confusion worse confounded!" and other similaramenities. Bailly did not succeed in extorting any indulgences fromMadame de Créqui, when, fortunately, the arrival of another visitor putan end to this insupportable torture. 

Two years after this, Bailly having become the first personage in thecity, some booksellers collected all his opuscula and published them. This time, the Marchioness, who had lost all recollection of the scenethat I have been describing, overpowered the Mayor of Paris withcompliments and felicitations on account of this same eulogy, which shehad before treated with such inhuman rigour. 

Such a contrast excited the mirth of the author. Still, might I dare tosay so, Madame de Créqui was, perhaps, sincere on both occasions; hadthe exaggerations of praise and of criticism been put aside, it wouldnot have been impossible to defend both opinions. The early pages ofthe pamphlet might appear embarrassed and obscure, whilst in the restthere might be found great refinement, elegance, and appreciations fullof taste. 

ASSEMBLY OF THE NOTABLES. --BAILLY IS NAMED FIRST DEPUTY OF PARIS; ANDSOON AFTER DEAN OR SENIOR OF THE DEPUTIES OF THE COMMUNES. 

The Assembly of the Notables had no other effect than to show in astronger light the disorder of the finances, and the other wounds thatwere galling France. It was then that the Parliament of Paris asked forthe convocation of the States General. This demand was unfavourablyreceived by Cardinal de Brienne. Soon afterwards the convocation becamea necessity, and Necker, now in the ministry, announced, in the month ofNovember, 1788, that it was decreed in Council, and that the king hadeven granted to the third estate a double representation, which had beenso imprudently disputed by the courtiers. 

The districts were formed, on the king's convocation, the 21st of April, 1789. That day was the first day of Bailly's political life. It was onthe 21st of April that the Citizen of Chaillot, entering the Hall of the_Feuillants_, imagined, he said, that "he breathed a new atmosphere, "and regarded "as a phenomenon that he should have become something inthe body-politic, merely from his being a citizen. "

The elections were to be made in two gradations. Bailly was named firstelector of his district. A few days after, at the general meeting, theAssembly called him to the Board in quality of secretary. Thus it wasour fellow-academician who, in the beginning, drew up the celebrated_procès-verbal_ of the meetings of the electors of Paris, so oftenquoted by the historians of the revolution. 

Bailly also took an active part in drawing up the records of hisdistrict, and the records of the body of electors. The part he acted inthese two capacities could not be doubtful, if we judge of it by thethree following short quotations extracted from his memoirs: "The nationmust remember that she is sovereign and mistress to order everything. .. . It is not when reason awakes, that we should allege ancientprivileges and absurd prejudices. .. . I shall praise the electors ofParis who were the first to conceive the idea of prefacing the FrenchConstitution with a declaration of the Rights of Man. "

Bailly had always been so extremely reserved in his conduct and in hiswritings, that it was difficult to surmise under what point of view hewould consider the national agitation of '89. Hence, at the verybeginning, the Abbé Maury, of the French Academy, proposed to unitehimself to Bailly, and that they should reside at Versailles, and havean apartment in common between them. It is difficult to avoid a smilewhen one compares the conduct of the eloquent and impetuous Abbé withthe categorical declarations, so distinct and so progressive, of thelearned astronomer. 

On Tuesday, the 12th of May, the general assembly of the electorsproceeded to ballot for the nomination of the first deputy of Paris. Bailly was chosen. 

This nomination is often quoted as a proof of the high intelligence, andof the wisdom of our fathers, two qualities which, since that epoch, must have been constantly on the decline, if we are to believe the blindPessimists. Such an accusation imposed on me the duty of carrying theappreciation of this wisdom, of this intelligence that is held upagainst us, even to numerical correctness. The following is the result:the majority of the votes was 159; Bailly obtained 173; this wasfourteen more than he required. If fourteen votes had changed sides theresult would have been different. Was this an incident, I ask, toexclaim so much against?

Bailly showed himself deeply affected by this mark of the confidencewith which he was regarded. His sensibility, his gratitude, did notprevent him, however, from recording in his memoirs the following_naïve_ observation: "I observed in the Assembly of the Electors a greatdislike for literary men, and for the academicians. "

I recommend this remark to all studious men who, by circumstances or bya sense of duty, may be thrown into the whirlpool of politics. Perhaps Imay yield to the temptation of developing it, when I shall have tocharacterize Bailly's connection with his co-laborers in the firstmunicipality of Paris. 

The great question on the verification of the powers was alreadystrongly agitated, the day that Bailly and the other Deputies of Parisfor the first time were able to go to Versailles; our academician hadonly spoken once in that majestic assembly, viz: to induce the adoptionof the method of voting by members being _seated_ or _standing_, --when, on the 3d of June, he was named Senior of the Deputies of the Communes(or Commons). Formerly, the right of presiding in the third house of thekingdom belonged to the provost of the merchants. Bailly in hisdiffidence thought that the assembly, in assigning the chair to him, hadwished to compensate the capital for the loss of an old privilege. Thisconsideration induced him to accept of a duty that he thought above hispowers, --he who always depicted himself as timid to an extreme, and notpossessing a facility of speaking. 

Men's minds were more animated, more ardent in 1789 than those wouldadmit who always see in the present a faithful image of the past. Butcalumny, that murderous arm of political party, already respected noposition. Knowledge, loyalty, virtue, did not suffice to shelter any onefrom its poisoned darts. Bailly experienced it on the very day after hisnomination to such an eminent post as President of the Communes. 

On the 29th of May, the Communes had voted an address to the king on theconstantly recurring difficulties that the nobility opposed to the unionof the States General in one assembly. In order to carry out this mostsolemn deliberation, Bailly solicited an audience, in which the moderateand respectful expression of the anxiety of six hundred loyal deputieswas to be presented to the monarch. In the midst of these strifes theDauphin died. Without taking the trouble to consult dates, the courtparty immediately represented Bailly as a stranger to the commonestproprieties, and totally deficient in feeling; he ought, they said, tohave respected the most allowable of griefs; his importunities had beenbarbarous. 

I had imagined that such ridiculous accusations were no longer thoughtof; the categorical explanations that Bailly himself gave on this topic, seemed to me as if they would have sufficed to convince the mostprejudiced. I was deceived, Gentlemen; the reproach of violence, ofbrutal insensibility, has just been repeated by the pen of a clever anda conscientious man. I will give his recital: "Scarcely two hours hadelapsed since the royal child had breathed his last sigh, when Bailly, President of the Third Estate, insisted on admission to the king, whohad prohibited any one being allowed to intrude upon him. But sopositive was the demand, that they were obliged to yield, and Louis XVI. Exclaimed, 'There are then no fathers in that chamber of the ThirdEstate. ' The chamber very much applauded this trait of brutalinsensibility in Bailly, which they termed a trait of Spartan stoicism. "

As many errors as words. The following is the truth. The illness of theDauphin had not prevented the two privileged orders from being receivedby the king. This preference offended the Communes. They ordered thePresident to solicit an audience. He discharged his duty with greatcaution. All his proceedings were concerted with two ministers, Neckerand M. De Barentin. The king answered, "It is impossible for me to seeM. Bailly in the situation in which I am to-night, nor to-morrowmorning, nor to fix a day for receiving the deputation of the ThirdEstate. " The note ends with these words: "Show my note to M. Bailly forhis vindication. "

Thus, on the day of these events the Dauphin was not dead; thus the kingwas not obliged to yield, he did not receive Bailly; thus the chamberhad no act of insensibility to applaud; thus Louis XVI. Perceived soclearly that the President of the Communes was fulfilling the duties ofhis office, that he felt it requisite to give him an exoneration. 

The death of the Dauphin happened on the 4th of June. As soon as theassembly of the Third Estate were informed of it, they charged thePresident, I quote the very words, "to report to their majesties thedeep grief with which this news had penetrated the Communes. "

A deputation of twenty members, having Bailly at their head, wasreceived on the 6th. The President thus expressed himself: "Yourfaithful Communes are deeply moved by the circumstance in which yourmajesty has the goodness to receive their deputation, and they take theliberty to address to you the expression of all their regrets, and oftheir respectful sensibility. "

Such language can, I think, be delivered without uneasiness to theappreciation of all good men. 

Let us be correct; the Communes did not obtain at once the audience thatthey demanded on account of the difficulties of the ceremonial. Theywould have wished to make the Third Estate speak kneeling. "Thiscustom, " said M. De Barentin, "has existed from time immemorial, and ifthe king wished. .. . " "And if twenty-five millions of men do not wishit, " exclaimed Bailly, interrupting the minister, "where are the meansto force them?" "The two privileged orders, " replied the Guard of theSeals, somewhat stunned by the apostrophe, "no longer require the ThirdEstate to bend the knee; but, after having formerly possessed immenseprivileges in the ceremonial, they limit themselves now to asking somedifference. This difference I cannot find. " "Do not take the trouble toseek for it, " replied the President hastily: "however slight thedifference might be, the Communes will not suffer it. "

This digression was required through a grave and recent error. Thememory of Bailly will not suffer by it, since it has afforded me theopportunity of establishing, beyond any reply, that in our fellowacademician a noble firmness was on occasions allied to urbanity, mildness, and politeness. But what will be said of the puerilities whichI have been obliged to recall, of the mean pretensions of the courtierson the eve of an immense revolution? When the Greeks of the LowerEmpire, instead of going on the ramparts valiantly to repel the attacksof the Turks, remained night and day collected around some sophists intheir lyceums and academies, their sterile debates at least related tosome intellectual questions; but at Versailles, there was nothing inaction, on the part of two out of three orders, but the most miserablevanity. 

By an express arrangement, decreed from the beginning, among the Membersof the Communes, the Dean or President had to be renewed every week. Notwithstanding the incessant representations of Bailly, thislegislative article was long neglected, so fortunate did the Assemblyfeel in having at their head this eminent man, who to undeniableknowledge, united sincerity, moderation, and a degree of patriotism notless appreciated. 

He thus presided over the Third Estate on the memorable days thatdetermined the march of our great revolution. 

On the 17th of June, for instance, when the Deputies of the Communes, worn out with the tergiversations of the other two orders, showed thatin case of need they would act without their concurrence, and resolutelyadopted the title of National Assembly, --they provided against presumedprojects of dissolution, by stamping as illegal all levies ofcontribution which were not granted by the Assembly. 

Again, on the 20th of June, when the Members of the National Assembly, affronted at the Hall having been closed and their meetings suspendedwithout an official notification, with only the simple form of placardsand public criers, as if a mere theatre was in question, they assembledat a tennis-court, and "took an oath never to separate, but to assemblewherever circumstances might render it requisite, until the Constitutionof the Kingdom should be established and confirmed on solidfoundations. "

Once more, Bailly was still at the head of his colleagues on the 23d ofJune, when, by an inexcusable inconsistency, and which perhaps was notwithout some influence on the events of that day, the Deputies of theThird Estate were detained a long time at the servants' door of the Hallof Meeting, and in the rain; while the deputies of the other two orders, to whom a more convenient and more suitable entrance had been assigned, were already in their places. 

The account that Bailly gave of the celebrated royal meeting on the 23dof June, does not exactly agree with that of most historians. 

The king finished his speech with the following imprudent words: "Iorder you, Gentlemen, to separate immediately. "

The whole of the nobility and a portion of the clergy retired; while theDeputies of the Communes remained quietly in their places. The GrandMaster of the Ceremonies having remarked it, approaching Bailly said tohim, "You heard the king's order, Sir?" The illustrious Presidentanswered, "I cannot adjourn the Assembly until it has deliberated onit. " "Is that indeed your answer, and am I to communicate it to theking?" "Yes, Sir, " replied Bailly, and immediately addressing theDeputies who surrounded him, he said, "It appears to me that theassembled nation cannot receive an order. "

It was after this debate, at once both firm and moderate, that Mirabeauaddressed from his place the well-known apostrophe to M. De Brézé. ThePresident disapproved both of the basis and the form of it; he felt thatthere was no sufficient motive; for, said he, the Grand Master of theCeremonies made use of no menace; he had not in any way insinuated thatthere was an intention to resort to force; he had not, above all, spokenof bayonets. At all events, there is an essential difference between thewords of Mirabeau as related in almost all the Histories of theRevolution, and those reported by Bailly. According to our illustriouscolleague the impetuous tribune exclaimed, "Go tell those who sent you, that the force of bayonets can do nothing against the will of thenation. " This is, to my mind, much more energetic than the commonversion. The expression, "We will only retire by the force of bayonets!"had always appeared to me, notwithstanding the admiration conceded toit, to imply only a resistance which would cease on the arrival of acorporal and half-a-dozen soldiers. 

Bailly quitted the chair of President of the National Assembly on the 2dof July. His scientific celebrity, his virtue, his conciliating spirit, had not been superfluous in habituating certain men to see a member ofthe Communes preside over an assembly in which there was a prince of theblood, a prince of the church, the greatest lords of the kingdom, andall the high dignitaries of the clergy. The first person named tosucceed to Bailly was the Duke d'Orléans. After his refusal, theAssembly chose the Archbishop of Vienne (Pompignan). 

Bailly recalls to mind with sensibility, in his memoirs, the testimoniesof esteem that he obtained through his difficult and laboriouspresidency. The 3d of July, on the proposition of the Duke de laRochefoucauld and of the Archbishop of Bordeaux, the National Assemblysent a deputation to their illustrious ex-president, to thank him (theseare the precise words) "for his noble, wise, and firm conduct. " Theelectoral body of Bordeaux had been beforehand with these homages. TheChamber of Commerce of that town, at the same time, decided that theportrait of the great citizen should decorate their hall of meeting. TheAcademy of Sciences, the Academy of Inscriptions and Belles Lettres, didnot remain insensible to the glory that one of their members hadacquired in the career of politics, and testified it by numerousdeputations. Finally, Marmontel, in the name of the French Academy, expressed to Bailly "how proud that assembly was to count, among itsmembers an Aristides that no one was tired of calling the Just. "

I shall not excite surprise, I hope, by adding, after such brillianttestimonies of sympathy, that the inhabitants of Chaillot celebrated thereturn of Bailly amongst them by fêtes, and fireworks, and that even thecurate of the parish and the churchwardens, unwilling to be surpassed bytheir fellow-citizens, nominated the historian of antediluvian astronomyhonorary churchwarden. I will, at all events, repress the smile thatmight arise from such private reminiscences, by reminding the readerthat a man's moral character is better appreciated by his neighbours, towhom he shows himself daily without disguise, than that of moreconsiderable persons, who are only seen on state occasions, and inofficial costume. 

BAILLY BECOMES MAYOR OF PARIS. --SCARCITY. --MARAT DECLARES HIMSELFINIMICAL TO THE MAYOR. --EVENTS OF THE 6TH OF OCTOBER. 

The Bastille had been taken on the 14th of July. That event, on which, during upwards of half a century, there have been endless discussions, on opposite sides, was characterized in the following way, in theaddress to the National Assembly, drawn up by M. Moreau de Saint Méry, in the name of the City Committee:--

"Yesterday will be for ever memorable by the taking of a citadel, consequent on the Governor's perfidy. The bravery of the people wasirritated by the breaking of the word of honour. This act (the strongestproof that the nation who knows best how to obey, is jealous of its justliberties, ) has been followed by incidents that from the publicmisfortunes might have been foreseen. "

Lally Tollendal said to the Parisians, on the 15th of July: "In thedisastrous circumstances that have just occurred, we did not cease toparticipate in your griefs; and we have also participated in your anger;it was just. "

The National Assembly solicited and obtained permission from the king onthe 15th of July, to send a deputation to Paris, which they flatteredthemselves would restore order and peace in that great city, then in aconvulsed state. Madame Bailly, always influenced by fear, endeavoured, though vainly, to dissuade her husband from joining the appointeddeputies. The learned academician naïvely replied, "After a presidencythat has been applauded, I am not sorry to show myself to myfellow-citizens. " You see, Gentlemen, that Bailly always admits thefuture reader of his Posthumous Memoirs confidentially into his mostsecret feelings. 

The deputation completed its mandate at the Town Hall, to the entiresatisfaction of the Parisian populace; the Archbishop of Paris, itsPresident, had already proposed to go in procession to the Cathedral tosing _Te Deum_; they were preparing to depart, when the Assembly, givingway to a spontaneous enthusiasm, with an unanimous voice, proclaimedBailly Mayor of Paris, and Lafayette Commander-in-Chief of the NationalGuard, the creation of which had just been authorized. 

The official minutes of the Municipality state, that on being thusunexpectedly named, Bailly bent forward to the Assembly, his eyes bathedin tears, and that amidst his sobs he could only utter a few unconnectedwords to express his gratitude. The Mayor's own recital differs verylittle from this official relation. Still I shall quote it as a model ofsincerity and of modesty. 

"I know not whether I wept, I know not what I said; but I remember wellthat I was never so surprised, so confused, and so beneath myself. Surprise adding to my usual timidity before a large assembly, I rose, Istammered out a few words that were not heard, and that I did not hearmyself, but which my agitation, much more than my mouth, renderedexpressive. Another effect of my sudden stupidity was, that I acceptedwithout knowing what a burden I was taking on myself. "

Bailly having become Mayor, and being tacitly accepted by the NationalAssembly, even from the 16th of July, availed himself of his intimacywith Vicq-d'Azyr, the Queen's physician, to persuade Louis XVI. To showhimself to the Parisians. This advice was listened to. On the 17th thenew magistrate addressed the king near the barrière de la Conférence, ina discourse that began thus:--

"I bring to your Majesty the keys of your good city of Paris. They arethe same that were presented to Henry IV. He had reconquered his people, here the people have reconquered their king. "

The antithesis: "he had reconquered his people, here the people havereconquered their king, " was universally applauded. But since then, ithas been criticized with bitterness and violence. The enemies of theRevolution have striven to discover in it an intention of committing anoutrage, to which the character of Bailly, and still more so the firstglance at an examination of the rest of his discourse, give a flatcontradiction. I will acknowledge, Gentlemen, I think that I have even aright to decline the epithet of "unfortunate, " which one of our mostrespectable colleagues in the French Academy has pronounced relative tothis celebrated phrase, while doing justice at the same time to thesentiments of the author. The poison contained in the few words that Ihave quoted, was very inoffensive, since more than a year passed withoutany courtier, though furnished like a microscope with, all themonarchical susceptibilities, beginning to suspect its existence. 

The Mayor of Paris was at the Hôtel de Ville in the midst of those sameParisian citizens who inspired him, a few months before, with themortifying reflection already quoted: "I remarked in the Assembly ofElectors a dislike to literary people and Academicians. " The feeling didnot appear to be changed. 

The political movement in 1789, had been preceded by two very seriousphysical perturbations which had great influence on the march of events. Every one is aware, that the excessively rigorous winter of 1788-89 wasthe cause of severe sufferings to the people. But it may not be sogenerally known, that on the 13th of July, 1788, a fall of hail ofunprecedented size and quantity, in a few hours completely ravaged thetwo parallel zones lying between the department of the Charente and thefrontiers of the Pays-Bas, and that in consequence of this frightfulhail, the wheat partly failed, both in the north and in the west ofFrance, until after the harvest of 1789. 

The scarcity was already severely felt, when Bailly on the 15th of Julyaccepted the appointment of Mayor of Paris. That day, it had beenascertained, from an examination of the quantity of corn at the MarketHall and of the private stocks of the bakers, that the supply of grainand flour would be entirely exhausted in three days. The next day, the16th of July, all the overseers in the victualling administration haddisappeared. This flight, the natural consequence of the terribleintimidation that hovered over those who were in any way connected withthe furnishing of provisions, interrupted the operations which had beencommenced, and exposed the city of Paris to famine. 

Bailly, a magistrate of only one day's standing, considered that themultitude understands nothing, hears nothing when bread fails; that ascarcity, either real or supposed, is the great promoter of riots; thatall classes of the population grant their sympathy to whoever cries, _Iam hungry_; that this lamentable cry soon unites individuals of allages, of both sexes, of every condition, in one common sentiment ofblind fury; that no human power could maintain order and tranquillity inthe bosom of a population that dreads the want of food; he thereforeresolved to devote his days and his nights to provisioning the capital;to deserve, as he himself said, the title of the _Father nourisher ofthe Parisians_, --that title of which he showed himself always so proud, after having painfully gained it. 

Bailly day by day recorded in his Memoirs a statement of his actions, ofhis anxieties, and of his fears. It may be good for the instruction ofthe more fortunate administrators of the present epoch, to insert here afew lines from the journal of our colleague. 

"18th August. Our provisions are very much reduced. Those of the morrowdepend strictly on the arrangements made on the previous evening; andnow amidst this distress, we learn that our flour-wagons have beenstopped at Bourg-la-Reine; that some banditti are pillaging the marketsin the direction of Rouen, that they have seized twenty wagons of flourthat were destined for us; . .. That the unfortunate Sauvage wasmassacred at Saint Germain-en-Laye; . .. That Thomassin escaped withdifficulty from the fury of the populace at Choisy. "

By repeating either these literal words, or something equivalent tothem, for every day of distress throughout the year 1789, an exact ideamay be formed of the anxieties that Bailly experienced from the morningafter his installation as mayor. I deceive myself; to complete thepicture we ought also to record the unreflecting and inconsiderateactions of a multitude of people whose destiny appeared to be, to meddlewith every thing and to spoil every thing. I will not resist the wish toshow one of these self-important men, starving (or very nearly so) thecity of Paris. 

"21st August. The store of victuals, Bailly says, was so scanty, thatthe lives of the inhabitants of Paris depended on the somewhatmathematical precision of our arrangements. Having learnt that a bargewith eighteen hundred sacks of flour had arrived at Poissy, Iimmediately despatched a hundred wagons from Paris to fetch them. Andbehold, in the evening, an officer without powers and without orders, related before me, that having met some wagons on the Poissy road, hemade them go back, because he did not think that there was a wharf forany loaded barge on the Seine. It would be difficult for me to describethe despair and the anger into which this recital threw me. We wereobliged to put sentinels at the bakers' doors!"

The despair and the anger of Bailly were very natural. Even now, aftermore than half a century, no one thinks without a shudder of thatobscure individual who, from not believing that a loaded barge could getup to Poissy, was going, on the 21st August, 1789, to plunge the capitalinto bloody disorders. 

By means of perseverance, devotedness, and courage, Bailly succeeded inovercoming all the difficulties that the real scarcity, and thefictitious one, which was still more redoubtable, caused daily to arise. He succeeded, but his health from that epoch was deeply injured; hismind had undergone several of those severe shocks that we can neverentirely recover from. Our colleague said, "when I used to pass thebakers' shops during the scarcity, and saw them besieged by a crowd, myheart sunk within me; and even now that abundance has been restored tous, the sight of one of those shops strikes me with a deep emotion. "

The administrative conflicts, the source of which lay in the very bosomof the Council of the Commune, daily drew from Bailly the followingexclamation, a faithful image of his mind: _I have ceased to be happy_. The embarrassments that proceeded from external sources touched himmuch less, and yet they were far from contemptible. Let us surmount ourrepugnance, although a reasonable one; let us cast a firm look on thesink where the unworthy calumnies were manufactured, of which Bailly wasfor some time the object. 

Several years before our first revolution, a native of Neufchatelquitted his mountains, traversed the Jura, and lighted upon Paris. Without means, without any recognized talent, without eminence of anysort, repulsive in appearance, of a more than negligent deportment, itseemed unlikely that he should hope, or even dream, of success; but theyoung traveller had been told to have full confidence, although acelebrated academician had not yet given that singular definition of ourcountry, "France is the home of foreigners. " At all events, thedefinition was not erroneous in this instance, for soon after hisarrival, the Neufchatelois was appointed physician to the household ofone of the princes of the royal family, and formed strict intimacieswith the greater part of the powerful people about the court. 

This stranger thirsted for literary glory. Amongst his earlyproductions, a medico-philosophical work figured in three volumes, relative to the reciprocal influences of the mind and the body. Theauthor thought he had produced a _chef d'oeuvre_; even Voltaire wasnot thought to be above analyzing it suitably; let us hasten to say thatthe illustrious old man, yielding to the pressing solicitations of theDuke de Praslin, one of the most active patrons of the Swiss doctor, promised to study the work and give his opinion of it. 

The author was at the acmé of his wishes. After having pompouslyannounced that the seat of the soul is in the _meninges_ (cerebralmembrane), could there be any thing to fear from the liberal thinker ofFerney? He had only forgotten that the patriarch was above all a man ofgood taste, and that the book on the body and soul offended all theproprieties of life. Voltaire's article appeared. He began with thissevere and just lesson--"We should not be prodigal of contempt towardsothers, and of esteem for ourselves, to such a degree as will berevolting to our readers. " The end was still more overwhelming. "We seeharlequin everywhere cutting capers to amuse the pit. "

Harlequin had received a sufficient dose. Not having succeeded inliterature, he threw himself upon the sciences. 

On betaking himself to this new career, the doctor of Neufchatelattacked Newton. But unluckily his criticisms were directed precisely tothose points wherein optics may vie in evidence with geometry itself. This time the patron was M. De Maillebois, and the tribunal the Academyof Sciences. 

The Academy pronounced its judgment gravely, without inflicting a wordof ridicule; for example, it did not speak of harlequin; but it did nottherefore remain the less established that the pretended experiments, intended, it was said, to upset Newton's, on the unequal refrangibilityof variously coloured rays, and the explanation of the rainbow, &c. , hadabsolutely no scientific value. 

Still the author would not allow himself to have been beaten. He evenconceived the possibility of retaliation; and, availing himself of hisintimacy with the Duke de Villeroy, governor of the second city in thekingdom, he got the Academy of Lyons to propose for competition all thequestions in optics, which for several years past had been the subjectsof its disquisitions; he even furnished the amount of the prize out ofhis own pocket, under an assumed name. 

The prize so longed for, and so singularly proposed, was not obtained, however, by the Duke de Villeroy's candidate, but by the astronomerFlaugergues. From that instant, the pseudo-physicist became the bitterenemy of the scientific bodies of the whole universe, of whoever borethe title of an academician. Putting aside all shame, he no longer madehimself known in the field of natural philosophy, merely by imaginaryexperiments, or by juggleries; he had recourse to contemptiblepractices, with the object of throwing doubt upon the clearest and bestproved principles of science; for example, the metallic needlesdiscovered by the academician Charles, and which the foreign doctor hadadroitly concealed in a cake of resin, in order to contradict the commonopinion of the electric non-conductibility of that substance. 

These details were necessary. I could not avoid characterizing thejournalist who by his daily calumnies contributed most to undermine thepopularity of Bailly. It was requisite besides, once for all, to striphim in this circle of the epithet of philosopher, with which men of theworld, and even some historians, inconsiderately gratified him. When aman reveals himself by some brilliant and intelligent works, the publicis pleased to find them united with good qualities of the heart. Norshould its joy be less hearty on discovering the absence of allintellectual merit in a man who had before shown himself despicable byhis passions, or his vices, or even only by serious blemishes ofcharacter. 

If I have not yet named the enemy of our colleague, if I have contentedmyself with recounting his actions, it is in order to avoid as much as Ican the painful feeling that his name must raise here. Judge, Gentlemen, weigh, my scruples: the furious persecutor of Bailly, of whomI have been talking to you for some minutes, was Marat. 

The revolution of '89 just occurred in time to relieve the abortiveauthor, physiologist, and physicist from the intolerable position intowhich he had been thrown by his inability and his quackery. 

As soon as the revolution had assumed a decided movement, great surprisewas occasioned by the sudden transformations excited in the inferiorwalks of the political world. Marat was one of the most strikingexamples of these hasty changes of principles. The Neufchatel physicianhad shown himself a violent adversary to those opinions that occasionedthe convocation of the assembly of Notables, and the national commotionin '89. At that time democratical institutions had not a more bitter ormore violent censor. Marat liked it to be believed that in quittingFrance for England, he fled especially from the spectacle of socialrenovation which was odious to him. Yet a month after the taking of theBastille, he returned to Paris, established a journal, and from its verybeginning left far behind him, even those who, in the hope of makingthemselves remarkable, thought they must push exaggeration to its veryfarthest limits. The former connection of Marat with M. De Calonne wasperfectly well known; they remembered these words of Pitt's: "The Frenchmust go through liberty, and then be brought back to their oldgovernment by licence;" the avowed adversaries of revolution testifiedby their conduct, by their votes, and even by their imprudent words, that according to them, _the worst_ was the only means of returning towhat they call _the good_; and yet these instructive comparisons struckonly eight or ten members of our great assemblies, so small a share hassuspicion in the national character, so painful is distrust to Frenchsincerity. The historians of our troubles themselves have but skimmedthe question that I have just raised--assuredly a very important andvery curious one. In such matters, the part of a prophet is tolerablyhazardous; yet I do not hesitate to predict, that a minute study of theconduct and of the discourses of Marat, would lead the mind more andmore to those chapters in a treatise on the chase, wherein we seedepicted bad species of falcons and hawks, at first only pursuing thegame by a sign from the master, and for his advantage; but by degreestaking pleasure in these bloody struggles, and entering on the sport atlast with passion and for their own profit. 

Marat took good care not to forget that during a revolution, men, naturally suspicious, act in their more immediate affairs so as torender those persons suspected whose duty it is to watch over them. TheMayor of Paris, the General Commandant of the National Guard, were thefirst objects, therefore, at which the pamphleteer aimed. As anacademician, Bailly had an extra claim to his hate. 

Among men of Marat's disposition, the wounds of self-love never heal. Without the hateful passions derived from this source, who would believethat an individual, whose time was divided between the superintendenceof a daily journal, the drawing up of innumerable placards with which hecovered the walls of Paris, together with the struggles of theConvention, the disputes not less fierce of the clubs; that anindividual who, besides, had given himself the task of imposing anAgrarian law on the country, could find time to write the very longletters against the old official adversaries of his bad experiments, hisabsurd theories, his lucubrations devoid both of erudition and oftalent; letters in which the Monges, the Laplaces, the Lavoisiers aretreated with such an entire neglect of justice and of truth, and withsuch a cynical spirit, that my respect for this assembly prevents myquoting a single expression. 

It was not then only the Mayor of Paris whom the pretended friend of thepeople persecuted; it was also the Academician Bailly. But theillustrious philosopher, the virtuous magistrate, gave no hold forpositive and decided criminations. The hideous pamphleteer understoodthis well; and therefore he adopted vague insinuations, that allowed ofno possible refutation, a method which, we may remark by the way, hasnot been without imitators. Marat exclaimed every day: "Let Bailly sendin his accounts!" and the most powerful figure of rhetoric, as Napoleonsaid, repetition, finally inspires doubts in a stupid portion of thepublic, in some feeble, ignorant, and credulous minds in the Council ofthe Commune; and the scrupulous magistrate wished, in fact, to send inhis accounts. Here they are in two lines: Bailly never had the handlingof any public funds. He left the Hôtel de Ville, after having spentthere two thirds of his patrimony. If his functions had been longprotracted, he would have retired completely ruined. Before the Communeassigned him any salary, the expenses of our colleague in charitiesalready exceeded 30, 000 livres. 

That was, Gentlemen, the final result. The details would be morestriking, and the name of Bailly would ennoble them. I could show ourcolleague entering only once with his wife, to regulate the furnishingof the apartments that the Commune assigned him; rejecting all that hadthe appearance of luxury or even of elegance; to replace sets of chinaby sets of earthenware, new carpets by the half-used ones of M. DeCrosnes, writing tables of mahogany by writing tables of walnut, &c. Butall this would appear an indirect criticism, which is far from mythoughts. From the same motives, I will not say, that inimical to allsinecures, of all plurality of appointments, when the functions are notfulfilled, the Mayor of Paris, since he no longer regularly attended themeetings of the National Assembly, no longer fingered the pay of adeputy, and that this was proved, to the great confusion of the idiots, whose minds had been disturbed by Marat's clamours. Yet I will recordthat Bailly refused all that in the incomes of his predecessors hadproceeded from an impure source; as, for example, the allowances fromthe lotteries, the amount of which was by his orders constantly paidinto the coffers of the Commune. 

You see, Gentlemen, that no trouble was required to show that thedisinterestedness of Bailly was great, enlightened, dictated by virtue, and that it was at least equal to his other eminent qualities. In theseries of accusations that I have extracted from the pamphlets of thatepoch, there is one, however, as to which, all things considered, I willnot attempt to defend Bailly. He accepted a livery from the city; onthis point no blame was attached to him; but the colours of the liverywere very gaudy. Perhaps the inventors of these bright shades hadimagined, that the insignia of the first magistrate of the metropolis, in a ceremony, in a crowd, should, like the light from a Pharos, strikeeven inattentive eyes. But these explanations regard those who wouldmake of Bailly a perfectly rational being, a man absolutely faultless;I, although his admirer, I resign myself to admit that in a laboriouslife, strewed with so many rocks, he committed the horrible crime, unpardonable let it be called, of having accepted from the Commune alivery of gaudy colours. 

Bailly figured in the events of the month of October 1789, only by theunsuccessful efforts he made at Paris, to arrange with Lafayette how toprevent a great crowd of women from going to Versailles. When thiscrowd, considerably increased, returned on the 6th October verytumultuously escorting the carriages of the royal family, Baillyharangued the king at the Barrière de la Conférence. Three days after, he also complimented the Queen at the Tuileries in the name of theMunicipal Council. 

On retiring from the National Assembly, which he then called a Cavern ofAnthropophagi, Lally Tollendal published a letter in which he foundbitter fault with Bailly on account of these discourses. Lally wasangry, recollecting that the day when the king reëntered his capital asa prisoner, surrounded by a very disrespectful crowd, and preceded bythe heads of his body-guards, had appeared to Bailly a fine day!

If the two heads had been in the procession, Bailly becomes inexcusable;but the two epochs, or rather hours (to speak more correctly), have beenconfounded; the wretched men, who after a conflict with the body-guard, brought their barbarous trophies to Paris, left Versailles in themorning; they were arrested and imprisoned, by order of themunicipality, as soon as they had entered the barriers of the capital. Thus the hideous circumstance reported by Lally was the dream of a wildimagination. 

A GLANCE AT THE POSTHUMOUS MEMOIR OF BAILLY. 

Bailly's Memoirs have thus far served me as a guide and check; now thatthis resource fails me, let us refer to his posthumous work. 

I could only consult those Memoirs as far as they related to the publicor private life of our colleague. Historians may consult them in a moregeneral point of view. They will find some valuable facts in them, related without prejudice; ample matter for new and fruitful reflectionson the way in which revolutions are generated, increase, and lead tocatastrophes. Bailly is less positive, less absolute, less slashing, than the generality of his contemporaries, even respecting those eventsin which circumstances assigned to him the principal part to be acted;hence when he points out some low intrigue, in distinct and categoricalterms, he inspires full confidence. 

When the occasion will allow of it, Bailly praises with enthusiasm; anoble action fills him with joy; he puts it together and relates it withrelish. This disposition of mind is sufficiently rare to deservemention. 

The day, still far off, when we shall finally recognize that our greatrevolution presented, even in the interior, even during the most cruelepochs, something besides anarchical and sanguinary scenes: the daywhen, like the intrepid fishermen in the Gulf of Persia and on thecoasts of Ceylon, a zealous and impartial writer will consent to plungehead-foremost into the ocean of facts of all sorts, of which our fatherswere witnesses, and exclusively seize the pearls, disdainfully rejectingthe mud, --Bailly's Memoirs will furnish a glorious contingent to thisnational work. Two or three quotations will explain my ideas, and willshow, besides, how scrupulously Bailly registered all that could shedhonour on our country. 

I will take the first fact from the military annals; a grenadier of theFrench Guard saves his commanding officer's life, although the peoplethought that they had great reason of complaint against him. "Grenadier, what is your name?" exclaimed the Duke de Châtelet, full of gratitude. The soldier replied, "Colonel, my name is that of all my comrades. "

I will borrow the second fact from the civil annals: Stephen deLarivière, one of the electors of Paris, had gone on the 20th of July, to fetch Berthier de Sauvigny, who had been fatally arrested atCompiègne, on the false report that the Assembly of the Town Hall wishedto prosecute him as intendant of the army, by which a few days beforethe capital had been surrounded. The journey was performed in an opencabriolet, amidst the insults of a misled population, who imputed to theprisoner the scarcity and bad quality of the bread. Twenty times, guns, pistols, sabres, would have put an end to Berthier's life, if, twentytimes, the member of the Commune of Paris had not voluntarily coveredhim with his body. When they reached the streets of the capital, thecabriolet had to penetrate through an immense and compact crowd, whoseexasperation bordered on delirium, and who evidently wished toperpetrate the utmost extremities; not knowing which of the twotravellers was the Intendant of Paris, they betook themselves to cryingout, "let the prisoner take off his hat!" Berthier obeyed, but Larivièreuncovered his head also at the same instant. 

All parties would gain by the production of a work, that I desire to seemost earnestly. For my part, I acknowledge, I should be sorry not tosee in it the answer made to Francis II. By one of the numerous officerswho committed the fault, so honestly acknowledged afterwards, --a faultthat no one would commit now, --that of joining foreigners in arms. TheAustrian prince, after his coronation, attempted, at a review, to induceour countrymen to admire the good bearing of his troops, and finallyexclaimed, "There are materials wherewith to crush the Sans-culottes. ""That remains to be seen!" instantly answered the émigré officer. 

May these quotations lead some able writer to erect a monument stillwanting to the glory of our country! There is in this subject, it seemsto me, enough to inspire legitimate ambition. Did not Plutarchimmortalize himself by preserving noble actions and fine sentiments fromoblivion?

EXAMINATION OF BAILLY'S ADMINISTRATION AS MAYOR. 

The illustrious Mayor of Paris had not the leisure to continue writinghis reminiscences beyond the date of the 2d of October, 1789. Theanalysis and appreciation of the events subsequent to that epoch willremain deprived of that influential sanction, pure as virtue, conciseand precise as truth, which I found in the handwriting of our colleague. Xenocrates, historians say, who was celebrated among the Greeks for hishonesty, being called to bear witness before a tribunal, the judges withcommon consent stopped him as he was advancing towards the altaraccording to the usual custom, and said, "These formalities are notrequired from you; an oath would add nothing to the authority of yourwords. " Such, Bailly presents himself to the reader of his PosthumousMemoirs. None of his assertions leave any room for indecision or doubt. He needs not high-flown expressions or protestations in order toconvince; nor would an oath add authority to his words. He may bedeceived, but he is never the deceiver. 

I will spare no effort to give to the description of the latter part ofBailly's life, all the correctness which can result from a sincere andconscientious comparison of the writings published as well by thepartisans as by the enemies of our great revolution. Such, however, ismy desire to prevent two phases, though very distinct, being confoundedtogether, that I shall here pause, in order to cast a scrupulous glanceon the actions and on the various publications of our colleague. I shallmoreover thus have an easy opportunity of filling up some importantlacunæ. 

I read in a biographical article, otherwise very friendly, that Baillywas nominated the very day of, and immediately after, the assassinationof M. De Flesselles; and in this identity the wish was to insinuate thatthe first Mayor of Paris received this high dignity from the bloodyhands of a set of wretches. The learned biographer, notwithstanding hisgood will, has ill repelled the calumny. With a little more attention hewould have succeeded better. A simple comparison of dates would havesufficed. The death of M. De Flesselles occurred on the 14th of July;Bailly was nominated two days after. 

I will address the same remark to the authors of a BiographicalDictionary still more recent, in which they speak of the ineffectualefforts that Bailly made to prevent the multitude from murdering thegovernor of the Bastille (de Launay). But Bailly had no opportunity ofmaking an effort, for he was then at Versailles; no duty called him toParis, nor did he become Mayor till two days after the taking of thefortress. It is really inexcusable not to have compared the two dates, by which these errors would have been avoided. 

Many persons very little acquainted with contemporaneous history, fancythat during the whole duration of Bailly's administration, Paris wasquite a cut-throat place. That is a romance; the following is thetruth:--

Bailly was Mayor during two years and four months. In that time thereoccurred four political assassinations; those of Foulon and of Berthierde Sauvigny, his son-in-law, at the Hôtel de Ville; that of M. Durocher, a respectable officer of the gendarmerie, killed at Chaillot, by amusket-shot, in August, 1789; and that of a baker massacred in a riot inthe month of October of the same year. I do not speak of theassassination of two unfortunate men on the Champ de Mars in July, 1791, as that deplorable fact must be considered separately. 

The individuals guilty of the assassination of the baker were seized, condemned to death, and executed. The family of the unfortunate victimbecame the object of the anxious care of all the authorities, andobtained a pension. 

The death of M. Durocher was attributed to some Swiss soldiers who hadrevolted. 

The horrible and ever to be deplored assassinations of Foulon and ofBerthier, are among those misfortunes which, under certain givencircumstances, no human power could prevent. 

In times of scarcity, a slight word, either true or unfounded, sufficesto create a terrible commotion. 

Réveillon is made to say, that a workman can live upon fifteen sous perdiem, and behold his manufactory destroyed from top to bottom. 

They ascribe to Foulon the barbarous vaunt; "I will force the people toeat hay;" and without any order from the constituted authorities, somepeasants, neighbours of the old minister, arrest him, take him to Paris, his son-in-law experiences the same fate, and the famished populaceimmolates both of them. 

In proportion as the multitude appear to me unjust and culpable, inattacking certain men respecting a scarcity of provisions, when it isthe manifest consequence of the severity of the seasons, I should bedisposed to excuse their rage against the authors of factitiousscarcities. Well, Gentlemen, at the time that Foulon was assassinated, the people, deceived by some impassioned orators of the Assembly, might, or let us rather say, ought to believe, that they were wilfullyfamished. Foulon perished the 22d of July, 1789; on the 15th, that is tosay, seven days before, Mirabeau had addressed the following incendiarywords to the inhabitants of the capital, from the National Tribune:--

"Henry IV. Allowed provisions to be taken into besieged and rebelliousParis; but now, some perverse ministers intercept convoys of provisionsdestined for famished and obedient Paris. "

Yet people have been so inconsiderate as to be astonished at theassassinations of Foulon and of Berthier. Going back in thought to themonth of July, 1789, I perceive in the imprudent apostrophe of theeloquent tribune, more sanguinary disorders than the contemporaryhistory has had to record. 

One of the most honourable, one of the most respectable and the mostrespected members of the institute, having been led, in a recent work, to relate the assassination of Foulon, has thrown on the conduct ofBailly, under those cruel circumstances, an aspersion that I read withsurprise and grief. Foulon was detained in the Hôtel de Ville. Baillywent down into the square, and succeeded for a moment in calming themultitude. "I did not imagine, " said the Mayor in his memoirs, "thatthey could have forced the Hôtel de Ville, a well-guarded post, and anobject of respect to all the citizens. I therefore thought the prisonerin perfect safety; I did not doubt but the waves of this storm wouldfinally subside, and I departed. "

The honourable author of the _History of the Reign of Louis XVI. _opposes to this passage the following words taken from the officialminutes of the Hôtel de Ville: "The electors (those who had accompaniedBailly out to the square) reported in the Hall the certainty that thecalm would not last long. " The new historian adds: "How could the Mayoralone labour under this delusion? It is too evident, that on such a day, the public tranquillity was much too uncertain, to allow of the chiefmagistrate of the town absenting himself without deserving the reproachof weakness. " The remainder of the passage shows too evidently, that inthe author's estimation, weakness here was synonymous with cowardice. 

It is against this, Gentlemen, that I protest with heartfeltearnestness. Bailly absented himself because he did not think that theHôtel de Ville could be forced. The electors in the passage quoted donot enunciate a different opinion: where then is the contradiction?

Bailly deceived himself in this expectation, for the multitude burstinto the Hôtel de Ville. We will grant that there was an error ofjudgment in this; but nothing in the world authorizes us to call inquestion the courage of the Mayor. 

To decide after the blow, with so little hesitation or consideration, that Bailly ought not to have absented himself from the House of theCommune, we must forget that, under such circumstances, the obligationsof the first magistrate of the city were quite imperious and verynumerous; it is requisite, above all, not to remember that each day, theprovision of flour required for the nourishment of seven or eighthundred thousand inhabitants, depended on the measures adopted on theprevious evening. M. De Crosne, who on quitting the post of Lieutenantof Police, had not ceased to be a citizen, was during some days a veryenlightened and zealous councillor for Bailly; but on the day thatFoulon was arrested, this dismissed magistrate thought himself lost. Heand his family made an appeal to the gratitude and humanity of ourcolleague. It was to procure a refuge for them, that Bailly employed thefew hours of absence with which he was so much reproached: those hoursduring which that catastrophe happened which the Mayor could not haveprevented, since even the superhuman efforts of General Lafayette, commanding an armed force, proved futile. I will add, that to spare M. De Crosne an arbitrary arrest, the imminent danger of which alas! wastoo evident in the death of Berthier, Bailly absented himself again fromthe Hôtel de Ville on the night of the 22d to the 23d of July, toaccompany the former Lieutenant of Police to a great distance fromParis. 

There is not a more distressing spectacle than that of one honest manwrongfully attacking another honest man. Gentlemen, let us neverwillingly leave the satisfaction and the advantage of it to the wicked. 

To appreciate the actions of our predecessors with impartiality andjustice, it would be indispensable to keep constantly before our eyesthe list of unheard-of difficulties that the revolution had to surmount, and to remember the very restricted means of repression placed at thedisposal of the authorities in the beginning. 

The scarcity of food gave rise to many embarrassments, to many a crisis;but causes of quite another nature had not less influence on the marchof events. 

In his memoirs, Bailly speaks of the manoeuvres of a redoubtablefaction labouring for . .. Under the name of the. .. . The names are blank. A certain editor of the work filled up the lacunæ. I have not the samehardihood, I only wished to remark that Bailly had to combat at onceboth the spontaneous effervescence of the multitude, and the intriguesof a crowd of secret agents, who distributed money with a liberal hand. 

Some day, said our colleague, the infernal genius who directed thoseintrigues and _le bailleur de fonds_ will be known. Although the propernames are wanting, it is certain that some persons inimical to therevolution urged it to deplorable excesses. 

These enemies had collected in the capital thirty or forty thousandvagabonds. What could be opposed to them? The Tribunals? They had nomoral power, and were declared enemies to the revolution. The NationalGuard? It was only just formed; the officers scarcely knew each other, and moreover scarcely knew the men who were to obey them. Was it atleast permitted to depend on the regular armed force? It consisted ofsix battalions of French Guards without officers; of six thousandsoldiers who, from every part of France, had flocked singly to Paris, onreading in the newspapers the following expressions from GeneralLafayette: "They talk of deserters! The real deserters are those men whohave not abandoned their standards. " There were finally six hundredSwiss Guards in Paris, deserters from their regiments; for, let us speakfreely, the celebrated monument of Lucerne will not prevent the Swissthemselves from being recognized by impartial and intelligenthistorians, as having experienced the revolutionary fever. 

Those who, with such poor means of repression, flattered themselves thatthey could entirely prevent any disorder, in a town of seven or eighthundred thousand inhabitants in exasperation, must have been very blind. Those, on the other hand, who attempt to throw the responsibility of thedisorders on Bailly, would prove by this alone, that good people shouldalways keep aloof from public affairs during a revolution. 

The administrator, a being of modern creation, now declares, with themost ludicrous self-sufficiency, that Bailly was not equal to thefunctions of a Mayor of Paris. It is, he says, by undeserved favour thathis statue has been placed on the façade of the Hôtel de Ville. Duringhis magistracy, Bailly did not create any large square in the capital, he did not open out any large streets, he elevated no splendid monument;Bailly would therefore have done better had he remained an astronomer orerudite scholar. 

The enumeration of all the public erections that Bailly did not executeis correct. It might also have been added, that far from devoting themunicipal funds to building, he had the vast and threatening castle ofthe Bastille demolished down to its very foundation's; but this wouldnot deprive Bailly of the honour of having been one of the mostenlightened magistrates that the city of Paris could boast. 

Bailly did not enlarge any street, did not erect any palace during thetwenty-eight months of his administration! No, undoubtedly! for, firstit was necessary to give bread to the inhabitants of Paris; now therevenues of the town, added to the daily sums furnished by Necker, scarcely sufficed for those principal wants. Some years before, theParisians had been very much displeased at the establishment of importdues on all alimentary substances. The writers of that epoch preservedthe burlesque Alexandrine, which was placarded all over the town, on theerection of the Octroi circumvallation:

 "Le mur murant Paris, rend Paris murmurant. "[13]

The multitude was not content with murmuring; the moment that afavourable opportunity occurred, it went to the barriers and broke themdown. These were reëstablished by the administration with great trouble, and the smugglers often took them down by main force. The _Octroi_revenue from the imports, which used to amount to 70, 000 francs, nowfell to less than 30, 000. Those persons who have considered the figuresof the present revenue, will assuredly not compare such very dissimilarepochs. 

But it is said that ameliorations in the moral world may often beeffected without expense. What were those for which the public wasindebted to the direct exertions of Bailly? The question is simple, butrepentance will follow the having asked it. My answer is this: One ofthe most honourable victories gained by mathematics over the avariciousprejudices of the administrations of certain towns has been, in our owntimes, the radical suppression of gambling-houses. I will hasten toprove that such a suppression had already engaged Bailly's attention, that he had partly effected it, and that no one ever spoke of thoseodious dens with more eloquence and firmness. 

"I declare, " wrote the Mayor of Paris on the 5th of May, 1790, "that thegambling-houses are in my opinion a public scourge. I think that thesemeetings not only should not be tolerated, but that they ought to besought out and prosecuted, as much as the liberty of the citizens, andthe respect due to their homes, will admit. 

"I regard the tax that has been levied from such houses as a disgracefultribute. I do not think that it is allowable to employ a revenue derivedfrom vice and disorder, even to do good. In consequence of theseprinciples, I have never granted any permit to gambling-houses; I haveconstantly refused them. I have constantly announced that not only theywould not be tolerated, but that they would be sought out andprosecuted. "

If I add that Bailly suppressed all spectacles of animal-fighting, atwhich the multitude cannot fail to acquire ferocious and sanguinaryhabits, I shall have a right to ask of every superficial writer, how hewould justify the epithet of sterile, applied with such assurance to theadministration of our virtuous colleague. 

Anxious to carry out in practice that which had been largely recognizedtheoretically in the declaration of rights--the complete separation ofreligion from civil law, --Bailly presented himself before the NationalAssembly on the 14th of May, 1791, and demanded, in the name of the cityof Paris, the abolition of an order of things which, in the then stateof men's minds, gave rise to great abuses. If declarations of births, ofmarriages, and of deaths are now received by civil officers in a formagreeing with all religious opinions, the country is chiefly indebtedfor it to the intelligent firmness of Bailly. 

The unfortunate beings for whom all public men should feel mostsolicitous, are those prisoners who are awaiting in prison the decreesof the courts of justice. Bailly took care not to neglect such a duty. At the end of 1790, the old tribunals had no moral power; they could nolonger act; the new ones were not yet created. This state of affairsdistracted the mind of our colleague. On the 18th of November, heexpressed his grief to the National Assembly, in terms full ofsensibility and kindness. I should be culpable if I left them inoblivion. 

"Gentlemen, the prisons are full. The innocent are awaiting theirjustification, and the criminals an end to their remorse. All breathe anunwholesome air, and disease will pronounce terrible decrees. Despairdwells there: Despair says, either give me death, or judge me. When wevisit those prisons, that is what the fathers of the poor and theunfortunate hear; this is what it is their duty to repeat to the fathersof their country. We must tell them that in those asylums of crime, ofmisery, and of every grief, time is infinite in its duration; a month isa century, a month is an abyss the sight of which is frightful. .. . Weask of the tribunals to empty the prisons by the justification of theinnocent, or by examples of justice. "

Does it not appear to you, Gentlemen, that calm times may occasionallyderive excellent lessons, and, moreover, lessons expressed in very goodlanguage, from our revolutionary epoch?

FOOTNOTE:

[13] "The wall walling Paris, renders Paris wailing. "

THE KING'S FLIGHT. --EVENTS ON THE CHAMP DE MARS. 

In the month of April, 1791, Bailly perceived that his influence overthe Parisian population was decreasing. The king had announced that heshould depart on the 18th, and would remain some days at St. Cloud. Thestate of his health was the ostensible cause of his departure. Somereligious scruples were probably the real cause; the holy week wasapproaching, and the king would have no communications with theecclesiastics sworn in for his parish. Bailly was not discomposed atthis projected journey; he regarded it even with satisfaction. Foreigncourts, said our colleague, looked upon him as a prisoner. The sanctionhe gives to various decrees, appears to them extorted by violence; thevisit of Louis XVI. To Saint Cloud will dissipate all these falsereports. Bailly therefore concerted measures with La Fayette for thedeparture of the royal family; but the inhabitants of Paris, lessconfiding than their mayor, already saw the king escaping from St. Cloud, and seeking refuge amidst foreign armies. They therefore rushedto the Tuileries, and notwithstanding all the efforts of Bailly and hiscolleague, the court carriages could not advance a step. The king andqueen therefore, after waiting for an hour and a half in their carriage, reascended into the palace. 

To remain in power after such a check, was giving to the country themost admirable proof of devotion. 

In the night of the 20th to the 21st of June, 1791, the king quitted theTuileries. This flight, so fatal to the monarchy, irretrievablydestroyed the ascendency that Bailly had exercised over the capital. Thepopulace usually judges from the event. The king, they said, with thequeen and their two children, were freely allowed to go out of thepalace. The Mayor of Paris was their accomplice, for he has the means ofknowing every thing; otherwise he might be accused of carelessness, orof the most culpable negligence. 

These attacks were not only echoed in the shops, in the streets, butalso in the strongly organized clubs. The Mayor answered in a peremptorymanner, but without entirely effacing the first impression. Duringseveral days after the king's flight, both Bailly and La Fayette were inpersonal danger. The National Assembly had often to look to theirsafety. 

I have now reached a painful portion of my task, a frightful event, thatled finally to Bailly's cruel death; a bloody catastrophe, the relationof which will perhaps oblige me to allow a little blame to hover oversome actions of this virtuous citizen, whom thus far it has been mydelight to praise without any restriction. 

The flight of the king had an immense influence on the progress of ourfirst revolution. It threw into the republican party some considerablepolitical characters who, till then, had hoped to realize the union of amonarchy with democratical principles. 

Mirabeau, a short time before his death, having heard this projectedflight spoken of, said to Cabanis: "I have defended monarchy to thelast; I defend it still, although I think it lost. .. . But, if the kingdeparts, I will mount the tribune, have the throne declared vacant, andproclaim a Republic. "

After the return from Varennes, the project of substituting a republicangovernment for a monarchical government was very seriously discussed bythe most moderate members of the National Assembly, and we now knowthat the Duke de La Rochefoucauld and Dupont (de Némours) for example, were decidedly in favour of a republic. But it was chiefly in the clubsthat the idea of such a radical change had struck root. When theCommission of the National Assembly had expressed itself, through M. Muguet, at the sitting of the 13th of July, 1791, against the forfeitureof Louis XVI. , there was a great fermentation in Paris. Some agents ofthe Cordeliers (Shoemakers') Club were the first to ask for signaturesto a petition on the 14th of July, against the proposed decision. TheAssembly refused to read and even to receive it. On the motion ofLaclos, the club of the Jacobins got up another. This, after undergoingsome important modifications, was to be signed on the 17th on the Champde Mars, on the altar of their country. These projects were discussedopenly, in full daylight. The National Assembly deemed them anarchical. On the 16th of July it called to its bar the municipality of Paris, enjoining it to have recourse to force, if requisite, to repress anyculpable movements. 

The Council of the Commune on the morning of the 17th placarded aproclamation that it had prepared according to the orders of theNational Assembly. Some municipal officers went about preceded by atrumpeter, to read it in various public squares. Around the Hotel deVille, the military arrangements, commanded by La Fayette, led to theexpectation of a sanguinary conflict. All at once, on the opening of thesitting of the National Assembly, a report was circulated that two goodcitizens having dared to tell the people collected around theircountry's altar, that they must obey the law, had been put to death, andthat their heads, stuck upon pikes, were carried through the streets. The news of this attack excited the indignation of all the deputies, andunder this impression, Alexander Lameth, then President of the Assembly, of his own accord transmitted to Bailly very severe new orders, acircumstance which, though only said _en passant_, has been but recentlyknown. 

The municipal body, as soon as it was informed, about eleven o'clock, ofthe two assassinations, deputed three of its members, furnished withfull powers, to reëstablish order. Strong detachments accompanied themunicipal officers. About two o'clock it was reported that stones hadbeen thrown at the National Guard. The Municipal Council instantly hadmartial law proclaimed on the Place de Grève, and the red flag suspendedfrom the principal window of the Hôtel de Ville. At half-past fiveo'clock, just when the municipal body was about to start for the Champde Mars, the three councillors, who had been sent in the morning to thescene of disorder, returned, accompanied by a deputation of twelvepersons, taken from among the petitioners. The explanations given onvarious sides occasioned a new deliberation of the Council. The firstdecision was maintained, and at six o'clock the municipality began itsmarch with the red flag, three pieces of cannon, and numerousdetachments of the National Guard. 

Bailly, as chief of the municipality, found himself at this time in oneof those solemn and perilous situations, in which a man becomesresponsible in the eyes of a whole nation, in the eyes of posterity, forthe inconsiderate or even culpable actions of the passionate multitudethat surrounds him, but which he scarcely knows, and over which he haslittle or no influence. 

The National Guard, in that early epoch of the revolution, was verytroublesome to lead and to rule. Insubordination appeared to be the rulein its ranks; and hierarchical obedience a very rare exception. Myremark may perhaps appear severe: well, Gentlemen, read the contemporarywritings, Grimm's Correspondence, for example, and you will see, underdate of November 1790, a dismissed captain replying to the regrets ofhis company in the following style: "Console yourselves, my companions, I shall not quit you; only, henceforward I shall be a simple fusilier;if you see me resolved to be no longer your chief, it is because I amcontent to command in my turn. "

It is allowable besides to suppose that the National Guard of 1791 wasdeficient, in the presence of such crowds, of that patience, thatclemency, of which the French troops of the line have often given suchperfect examples. It was not aware that, in a large city, crowds arechiefly composed of the unemployed and the idly curious. 

It was half-past seven o'clock when the municipal body arrived at theChamp de Mars. Immediately some individuals placed on the glacisexclaimed: "Down with the red flag! down with the bayonettes!" and threwsome stones. There was even a gun fired. A volley was fired in the airto frighten them; but the cries soon recommenced; again some stones werethrown; then only the fatal fusillade of the National Guard began!

These, Gentlemen, are the deplorable events of the Champ de Mars, faithfully analyzed from the relation that Bailly himself gave of the18th July to the Constituent Assembly. This recital, the truth of whichno one assuredly will question any more than myself, labours under someinvoluntary but very serious omissions. I will indicate them, when themarch of events leads us, in following our unfortunate colleague, to therevolutionary tribunal. 

BAILLY QUITS THE MAYORALTY THE 12TH OF NOVEMBER, 1791. --THEESCHEVINS. --EXAMINATION OF THE REPROACHES THAT MIGHT BE ADDRESSED TO THEMAYOR. 

I resume the biography of Bailly at the time when he quitted the Hôtelde Ville after a magistracy of about two years. 

On the 12th November, 1791, Bailly convoked the Council of the Commune, rendered an account of his administration, solemnly entreated those whothought themselves entitled to complain of him, to say so withoutreserve; so resolved was he to bow to any legitimate complaints;installed his successor Pétion, and retired. This separation did notlead to any of those heartfelt demonstrations from the co-labourers ofthe late Mayor, which are the true and the sweetest recompense to a goodman. 

I have sought for the hidden cause of such a constant and undisguisedhostility towards the first Mayor of Paris. I asked myself first, whether the magistrate's manners had possibly excited thesusceptibilities of the Eschevins. [14] The answer is decidedly in thenegative. Bailly showed in all the relations of life a degree ofpatience, a suavity, a deference to the opinions of others, that wouldhave soothed the most irascible self-love. 

Must we suspect jealousy to have been at work? No, no; the persons whoconstituted the town-council were too obscure, unless they were mad, toattempt to vie in public consideration and glory with the illustriousauthor of _the History of Astronomy_, with the philosopher, the writer, the erudite scholar who belonged to our three principal academies, anhonour that Fontenelle alone had enjoyed before him. 

Let us say it aloud, for such is our conviction, nothing personalexcited the evil proceedings, the acts of insubordination with whichBailly had daily to reproach his numerous assistants. It is evenpresumable, that in his position, any one else would have had toregister more numerous and more serious complaints. Let us be truthful:when the _aristocracy of the ground-floor_, according to the expressionof one of the most illustrious members of the French Academy, was calledby the revolutionary movements to replace the _aristocracy of thefirst-floor_, it became giddy. Have I not, it said, conducted thebusiness of the warehouse, the workshop, the counting-house, &c. , withprobity and success; why then should I not equally succeed in themanagement of public affairs? And this swarm of new statesmen were in ahurry to commence work; hence all control was irksome to them, and eachwished to be able to say on returning home, "I have framed such or suchan act that will tie the hands of faction for ever; I have repressedthis or that riot; I have, in short, saved the country by proposing suchor such a measure for the public good, and by having it adopted. " Thepronoun _I_ so agreeably tickles the ear of a man lately risen fromobscurity. 

What the thorough-bred Eschevin, whether new or old, dreads above everything else, is specialties. He has an insurmountable antipathy towardsmen, who have in the face of the world gained the honourable titles ofhistorian, geometer, mechanician, astronomer, physician, chemist, orgeologist, &c. .. . His desire, his will, is to speak on every thing. Herequires, therefore, colleagues who cannot contradict him. 

If the town constructs an edifice, the Eschevin, losing sight of thequestion, talks away on the aspect of the façades. He declares with theimperturbable assurance inspired by a fact that he had heard speak ofwhilst on the knees of his nurse, that on a particular side of thefuture building, the moon, an active agent of destruction, willincessantly corrode the stones of the frontage, the shafts of thecolumns, and that it will efface in a few years all the projectingornaments; and hence the fear of the moon's voracity will lead to theupsetting of all the views, the studies, and the well-digested plans ofseveral architects. Place a meteorologist on the council, and, despitethe authority of the nurses, a whole scaffolding of gratuitoussuppositions will be crumbled to dust by these few categorical andstrict words of science; the moon does not exert the action that isattributed to it. 

At another time, the Eschevin hurls his anathema at the system ofwarming by steam. According to him, this diabolical invention is anincessant cause of damp to the wood-work, the furniture, the papers, andthe books. The Eschevin fancies, in short, that in this way of warming, torrents of watery vapour enter into the atmosphere of the apartments. Can he love a colleague, I ask, who after having had the cunningpatience to let him come to the conclusion of his discourse, informs himthat, although vapour, the vehicle of an enormous quantity of latentheat, rapidly conveys this caloric to every floor of the largestedifice, it has never occasion therefore to escape from thoseimpermeable tubes through which the circulation is effected!

Amidst the various labours that are required by every large town, theEschevin thinks, some one day, that he has discovered an infallible wayof revenging himself of specialties. Guided by the light of moderngeology, it has been proposed to go with an immense sounding line inhand, to seek in the bowels of the earth the incalculable quantities ofwater, that from all eternity circulate there without benefiting humannature, to make them spout up to the surface, to distribute them invarious directions, in large cities, until then parched, to takeadvantage of their high temperature, to warm economically themagnificent conservatories of the public gardens, the halls of refuge, the wards of the sick in hospitals, the cells of madmen. But accordingto the old geology of the Eschevin, promulgated perhaps by his nurse, there is no circulation in subterranean water; at all events, subterranean water cannot be submitted to an ascending force and rise tothe surface; its temperature would not differ from that of commonwell-water. The Eschevin, however, agrees to the expensive worksproposed. Those works, he says, will afford no material result; but oncefor all, such fantastic projects will receive a solemn and roughcontradiction, and we shall then be liberated for ever from the odiousyoke under which science wants to enslave us. 

However, the subterranean water appears. It is true that a cleverengineer had to bore down 548 mètres (or 600 yards) to find it; butthence it comes transparent as crystal, pure as if the product ofdistillation, warmed as physical laws had shown that it would be, moreabundant indeed than they had dared to foresee, it shot up thirty-threemètres above the ground. 

Do not suppose, Gentlemen, that putting aside wretched views ofself-love, the Eschevin would applaud such a result. He shows himself, on the contrary, deeply humiliated. And he will not fail in future tooppose every undertaking that might turn out to the honour of science. Crowds of such incidents occur to the mind. Are we to infer thence, thatwe ought to be afraid of seeing the administration of a town given up tothe stationary, and exclusive spirit of the old Eschevinage--to peoplewho have learnt nothing and studied nothing? Such is not the result ofthese long reflections. I wished to enable people to foresee thestruggle, not the defeat. I even hasten to add, that by the side of thesurly, harsh, rude, positive Eschevin, the type of whom, to say thetruth, is fortunately becoming rare, an honourable class of citizensexists, who, content with a moderate fortune laboriously acquired, liveretired, charm their leisure with study, and magnanimously placethemselves, without any interested views, at the service of thecommunity. Everywhere similar auxiliaries fight courageously for truthas soon as they perceive it. Bailly constantly obtained theirconcurrence; as is proved by some touching testimonies of gratitude andsympathy. As to the counsellors who so often occasioned trouble, confusion, and anarchy in the Hôtel de Ville in the years '89 and '90, Iam inclined to blame the virtuous magistrate for having so patiently, sodiffidently endured their ridiculous pretensions, their unbearableassumption of power. 

From the earliest steps in the important study of nature, it becomesevident that facts unveiled to us in the lapse of centuries, are but avery small fraction, if we compare them with those that still remain tobe discovered. Placing ourselves in that point of view, deficiency indiffidence would just be the same as deficiency in judgment. But, by theside of positive diffidence, if I may be allowed the expression, relative diffidence comes in. This is often a delusion; it deceives noone, yet occasions a thousand difficulties. Bailly often confoundedthem. We may regret, I think, that in many instances, the learnedacademician disdained to throw in the face of his vain fellow-labourersthese words of an ancient philosopher: "When I examine myself, I find Iam but a pigmy; when I compare myself, I think I am a giant. "

If I were to cover with a veil that which appeared to me susceptible ofcriticism in the character of Bailly, I should voluntarily weaken thepraises that I have bestowed on several acts of his administration. Iwill not commit this fault, no more than I have done already in alludingto the communications of the mayor with the presuming Eschevins. 

I will therefore acknowledge that on several occasions, Bailly, in myopinion, showed himself influenced by a petty susceptibility, if notabout his personal prerogatives, yet about those of his station. 

I think also that Bailly might be accused of an occasional want offoresight. 

Imaginative and sensitive, the philosopher allowed his thoughts tocentre too exclusively on the difficulties of the moment. He persuadedhimself, from an excess of good-will, that no new storm would follow theone that he had just overcome. After every success, whether great orsmall, against the intrigues of the court, or prejudices, or anarchy, whether President of the National Assembly or Mayor of Paris, ourcolleague thought the country saved. Then his joy overflowed; he wouldhave wished to spread it over all the world. It was thus that on the dayof the definite reunion of the nobility with the other two orders, the27th of June, 1789, Bailly going from Versailles to Chaillot, after theclose of the session, leaned half his body out of his carriage door, andannounced the happy tidings with loud exclamations to all whom he met onthe road. At Sèvres, it is from himself that I borrow the anecdote, hedid not see without painful surprise that his communication was receivedwith the most complete indifference by a group of soldiers assembledbefore the barrack door; Bailly laughed much on afterwards learning thatthis was a party of Swiss soldiers, who did not understand a word hesaid. 

Happy the actors in a great revolution, in whose conduct we find nothingto reprehend until after having entered into so minute an analysis oftheir public and private conduct. 

FOOTNOTE:

[14] _Eschevin_ was a sort of town-councilman, peculiar toParis and to Rotterdam, acting under a mayor. 

BAILLY'S JOURNEY FROM PARIS TO NANTES, AND THEN FROM NANTES TOMÉLUN. --HIS ARREST IN THE LAST TOWN. --HE IS TRANSFERRED TO PARIS. 

After having quitted the Mayorality of Paris, Bailly retired toChaillot, where he hoped again to find happiness in study; but upwardsof two years passed amidst the storms of public life had deeply injuredhis health; it was therefore requisite to obey the advice of physicians, and undertake a journey. About the middle of June, 1792, Bailly quittedthe capital, made some excursions in the neighbouring departments, wentto Niort to visit his old colleague and friend, M. De Lapparent, andsoon after went on far as Nantes, where the due influence of anotherfriend, M. Gelée de Prémion, seemed to promise him protection andtranquillity. Determined to establish himself in this last town, Baillyand his wife took a small lodging in the house of some distinguishedpeople, who could understand and appreciate them. They hoped to livethere in peace; but news from Paris soon dissipated this illusion. TheCouncil of the Commune decreed, that the house previously occupied, inconsequence of a formal decision, by the Mayor of Paris, and by thepublic offices of the town, ought to have paid a tax of 6, 000 livres, and strange enough, that Bailly was responsible for it. The pretendeddebt was claimed with harshness. They demanded the payment of it withoutdelay. To free himself Bailly was obliged to sell his library, toabandon to the chances of an auction that multitude of valuable books, from which he had sought out, in the silence of his study, and with suchremarkable perseverance, the most recondite secrets of the firmament. 

This painful separation was followed by two acts that did not afflicthim less. 

The central government (then directed, it must be allowed, by theGironde party) placed Bailly under surveillance. Every eight days thevenerable academician was obliged to present himself at the house of theSyndic Procurator of the Departmental Administration of the Lower-Loire, like a vile malefactor, whose every footstep it would be to the interestof society to watch. What was the true motive for such a strangemeasure? This secret has been buried in a tomb where I shall not allowmyself to dig for it. 

Though painful to me to say so, the odious assimilation of Bailly to adangerous criminal had not exhausted the rancour of his enemies. Aletter from Roland, the Minister of the Interior, announced very drylyto the unfortunate proscribed man, that the apartments in the Louvre, which his family had occupied for upwards of half a century, had beenwithdrawn from him. They had even proceeded so far as to furnish atipstaff with the order to clear the rooms. 

A short time before this epoch, Bailly had found himself obliged to sellhis house at Chaillot. The old Mayor of Paris then had no longer ahearth or a home in the great city which had been the late scene of hisdevotion, his solicitude, and his sacrifices. When this reflectionoccurred to his mind, his eyes filled with tears. 

But the grief that Bailly experienced on seeing himself the daily objectof odious persecutions, left his patriotic convictions intact. Vainlydid they endeavour several times to transform a legitimate hatredtowards individuals into an antipathy towards principles. They stillremember in Brittany the debate raised, by one of these attempts, between our colleague and a Vendéan physician, Dr. Blin. Never, in theseason of his greatest popularity, did the president of the NationalAssembly express himself with more vivacity; never had he defended ourfirst revolution with more eloquence. Not long since, in the same place, I pointed out to public attention another of our colleagues (Condorcet), who already under the blow of a capital condemnation, devoted his lastmoments to restore to the light of day the principles of eternaljustice, which the fashions and the follies of men had but too muchobscured. At a time of weak or interested convictions, and disgracefulcapitulations of conscience, those two examples of unchangeableconvictions deserved to be remarked. I am happy in having found them inthe bosom of the Academy of Sciences. 

Tranquillity of mind is not less requisite than vigour of intellect, tothose who undertake great works. Thus during his residence at Nantes, Bailly did not even try to add to his numerous scientific or literaryproductions. This celebrated astronomer passed his time in readingnovels. He sometimes said with a bitter smile: "My day has been welloccupied; since I got up, I have put myself in a position to give ananalysis of the two, or of the three first volumes of the new novel thatthe reading-room has just received. " From time to time theseabstractions were of a more elevated tone; he owed them to two youngpersons, who having reached an advanced age may now be listening to mywords. Bailly discoursed with them of Homer, of Plato, of Aristotle, ofthe principal works in our literature, of the rapid progress of thesciences, and chiefly of those of astronomy. What our colleague chieflyappreciated in these two young friends, was a true sensibility, andgreat warmth of feeling. I know that years have not effaced or weakenedthese rare qualities in the bosoms of those two Brétons. M. Pariset, ourcolleague, and M. Villenave, will therefore think it natural in me tothank them here, in the name of science and literature, in the name ofhumanity, for the few moments of sweet peace and happiness that theyafforded to our learned colleague, at a time when the inconstancy andingratitude of men were lacerating his heart. 

Louis XVI. Had perished; dark clouds hung over the horizon; some acts ofodious brutality showed our proscribed philosopher how little he mustthenceforward depend on public sympathy; how much times had changedsince the memorable meeting (of the 7th of October, 1791), at which theNational Assembly decided that the bust of Bailly should be placed inthe hall of their meetings! The storm appeared near and very menacing;even persons usually of little foresight were meditating where to findshelter. 

During these transactions, Charles Marquis de Casaux, known by variousproductions on literature and on economical politics, went and requestedour colleague, together with his wife, to take a passage on board a shipthat he had freighted for himself and his family. "We will first go toEngland, " said M. Casaux; "we will then, if you prefer it, pass ourexile in America. Have no anxiety, I have property; I can, withoutinconvenience to myself, undertake all the expenses. Pythagoras said:'In solitude the wise man worships echo;' but this no longer suffices inFrance; the wise man must fly from a land that threatens to devour itschildren. "

These warm solicitations, and the prayers of his weeping companion, could not shake the firm resolution of Bailly. "From the day that Ibecame a public character, " he said, "my fate has become irrevocablyunited with that of France; never will I quit my post in the moment ofdanger. Under any circumstances my country may depend on my devotion. Whatever may happen, I shall remain. "

By regulating his conduct on such fine generous maxims, a citizen doeshimself honour, but he exposes himself to fall under the blows offaction. 

Bailly was still at Nantes on the 30th of June, 1793, when eightythousand Vendéans, commanded by Cathelineau and Charette, went tobesiege that city. 

Let us imagine to ourselves the position of the President of the sittingof the "Jeu de Paume, " of the first Mayor of Paris, in a city besiegedby the Vendéans! We cannot presume that the unfavourable opinion of theConvention under which he was labouring, and the rigorous surveillanceto which he was subjected, would have saved him from harsh treatment ifthe town had been taken. No one can therefore be surprised that afterthe victory of Nanteans, our colleague hastened to follow out hisproject, formed a short time before, of withdrawing from the insurgentprovinces. 

Up to the beginning of July 1793, Mélun had enjoyed perfecttranquillity. Bailly knew it through M. De Laplace, who, living retiredin that chief town of the department, was there composing the immortalwork in which the wonders of the heavens are studied with so much depthand genius. He also knew that the great geometer, hoping to be stillmore retired in a cottage on the banks of the Seine, and out of thetown, was going to dispose of his house in Mélun. It is easy to guessthat Bailly would be charmed with the prospect of residing far away frompolitical agitation, and near to his illustrious friend!

The arrangements were promptly made, and on the 6th of July, M. AndMadame Bailly quitted Nantes in company with M. And Madame Villenave, who were going to Rennes. 

At this same time, a division of the revolutionary army was marching toMélun. As soon as the terrible news was known, Madame Laplace wrote toBailly, persuading him, under covert expressions, to give up theintended project. The house, she said, is at the water's edge: there isextreme dampness in the rooms: Madame Bailly would die there. A letterso different from those that had preceded it, could not fail of itseffect; such at least was the hope with which M. And Madame Laplaceflattered themselves, when about the end of July they perceived, withinexpressible alarm, Bailly crossing the garden path. "Great God, youdid not then understand our last letter!" exclaimed at the same instantour colleague's two friends. "I understood perfectly, " Bailly repliedwith the greatest calm; "but on the one hand, the two servants whofollowed me to Nantes, having heard that I was going to be imprisoned, quitted me; on the other hand, if I am to be arrested, I wish it to bein a house that I have occupied some time. I will not be described inany act as an individual without a domicile!" Can it be said, afterthis, that great men are not subject to strange weaknesses?

These minute details will be my only answer to some culpable expressionsthat I have met with in a work very widely spread: "M. Laplace, " saysthe anonymous writer "knew all the secrets of geometry; but he had notthe least notion of the state France was in, he therefore imprudentlyadvised Bailly to go and join him. "

What is to be here deplored as regards imprudence, is, that a writer, without exactly knowing the facts, should authoritatively pronounce suchsevere sentences against one of the most illustrious ornaments of ourcountry. 

Bailly did not even enjoy the puerile satisfaction of taking rank amongthe domiciled citizens of Mélun. For two days after his arrival in thattown, a soldier of the revolutionary army having recognized him, brutally ordered him to accompany him to the municipality: "I am goingthere, " coolly replied Bailly; "you may follow me there. "

The municipal body of Mélun had at that time an honest and verycourageous man at its head, M. Tarbé des Sablons. This virtuousmagistrate endeavoured to prove to the multitude, (with which the Hôtelde Ville was immediately filled by the news, rapidly propagated, of thearrest of the old Mayor of Paris, ) that the passports granted at Nantes, countersigned at Rennes, showed nothing irregular; that according to theterms of the law, he could not but set Bailly at liberty, under pain offorfeiture. Vain efforts! To avoid a bloody catastrophe, it wasnecessary to promise that reference would be made to Paris, and that inthe mean time he should be guarded--_à vue_--in his own house. 

The surveillance, perhaps purposely, was not at all strict; to escapewould have been very easy. Bailly utterly discarded the notion. He wouldnot at any price have compromised M. Tarbé, nor even his guard. 

An order from the Committee of Public Safety enjoined the authorities ofMélun to transfer Bailly to one of the prisons of the capital. On theday of departure, Madame Laplace paid a visit to our unfortunatecolleague. She represented to him again the possibility of escape. Thefirst scruples no longer existed; the escort was already waiting in thestreet. But Bailly was inflexible. He felt perfectly safe. MadameLaplace held her son in her arms; Bailly took the opportunity of turningthe conversation to the education of children. He treated the subject, to which he might well have been thought a stranger, with a remarkablesuperiority, and ended even with several amusing anecdotes that woulddeserve a place in the witty and comic gallery of "les Enfantsterribles. "

On arriving at Paris, Bailly was imprisoned at the Madelonnettes, andsome days after at La Force. They there granted him a room, where hiswife and his nephews were permitted to visit him. 

Bailly had undergone only one examination of little importance, when hewas summoned as a witness in the trial of the queen. 

BAILLY IS CALLED AS A WITNESS IN THE TRIAL OF THE QUEEN. --HIS OWN TRIALBEFORE THE REVOLUTIONARY TRIBUNAL. --HIS CONDEMNATION TO DEATH. --HISEXECUTION. --IMAGINARY DETAILS ADDED BY ILL-INFORMED HISTORIANS TO WHATTHAT ODIOUS AND FRIGHTFUL EVENT ALREADY PRESENTED. 

Bailly, under the weight of a capital accusation, and precisely onaccount of a portion of the acts imputed to Marie Antoinette, was heardas a witness in the trial of that princess. The annals of tribunals, either ancient or modern, never offered any thing like this. What didthey hope for? To lead our colleague to make inexact declarations, or toconcealments from a feeling of imminent personal danger? To suggest thethought to him to save his own head at the expense of that of an unhappywoman? To make virtue finally stagger? At all events, this infernalcombination failed; with a man like Bailly it could not succeed. 

"Do you know the accused?" said the President to Bailly. "Oh! yes, I doknow her!" answered the witness, in a tone of emotion, and bowingrespectfully to Marie Antoinette. Bailly then protested with horroragainst the odious imputations that the act of accusation had put intothe mouth of the young dauphin. From that moment Bailly was treated withgreat harshness. He seemed to have lost in the eyes of the tribunal thecharacter of a witness, and to have become the accused. The turn thatthe debates took would really authorize us to call the sitting in whichthe queen was condemned, (in which she figured ostensibly as the onlyone accused, ) the trial of Marie Antoinette and of Bailly. Whatsignified, after all, this or that qualification of this monstroustrial? in the judgment of any man of feeling, never did Bailly provehimself more noble, more courageous, more worthy, than in this difficultsituation. 

Bailly appeared again before the Revolutionary Tribunal, and this timeas the accused, the 10th of November 1793. The accusation bore chieflyon the pretended participation of the Mayor of Paris in the escape ofLouis XVI. And his family, and in the catastrophe that occurred in theChamp de Mars. 

If any thing in the world appeared evident, even in 1793, even beforethe detailed revelations of the persons who took a more or less directpart in the event, it is, that Bailly did not facilitate the departureof the royal family; it is that, in proportion to the suspicions thatreached him, he did all that was in his power to prevent theirdeparture; it is, that the President of the sitting of the Jeu de Paumehad not, and could never have had in any case, an intention of going tojoin the fugitive family in a strange country; it is that, finally, anyact emanating from a public authority in which such expressions as thefollowing could be found: "The deep wickedness of Bailly. .. . Baillythirsted for the people's blood!" must have excited the disgust andindignation of good men, whatever might be their political opinions. 

The accusation, as far as it regarded the murderous fusillade on theChamp de Mars, had more weight; this event had as counterpoises, the10th of August and the 31st of May; La Fayette says in his memoirs, thatthose two days were a retaliation. It is at least certain that theterrible scenes of the 17th of July cost Bailly his life; they left deepimpressions in people's minds, which were still perceptible after therevolution of 1830, and which, on more than one occasion, rendered theposition of La Fayette one of great delicacy. I have therefore studiedthem most attentively, with a very sincere and lively desire todissipate, once for all, the clouds that seemed to have obscured thispoint, this sole point, in the life of Bailly. I have succeeded, Gentlemen, without ever having had a wish or occasion to veil the truth. I do no Frenchman the injustice to suppose that I need define to him anevent of the national history that has been so influential on theprogress of our revolution, but perhaps, there may be some foreignerspresent at this sitting. It will be therefore for them only that I shallhere relate some details. We must bring to mind some deplorablecircumstances of the evening of the 17th July, when the multitude hadassembled on the Champ de Mars or Champ de la Fédération, around thealtar of their country, the remains of the wooden edifice that had beenraised to celebrate the anniversary of the 14th of July. Part of thiscrowd signed a petition tending to ask the forfeiture of the throne byLouis XVI. , then lately reconducted from Varennes, and on whose fate theConstituent Assembly had been enacting regulations. On that occasionmartial law was proclaimed. The National Guard, with Bailly and LaFayette at their head, went to the Champ de Mars; they were assailed byclamours, by stones, and by the firing of a pistol; the Guard fired;many victims fell, without its being possible to say exactly how many, for the estimates, according to the effect that the reporters wished toproduce, varied from eighty to two thousand!

The Revolutionary Tribunal heard several witnesses relative to theevents on the Champ de Mars: amongst them I find Chaumette, Procuratorof the Commune of Paris; Lullier, the Syndic Procurator General of theDepartment; Coffinhal, Judge of the Revolutionary Tribunal; Dufourny, manufacturer of gunpowder; Momoro, a printer. 

All these witnesses strongly blamed the old Mayor of Paris; but who isthere that does not know how much arbitrariness and cruelty theseindividuals, whom I have mentioned above, showed during our misfortunes?Their declarations, therefore, must be received with great suspicion. 

The sincere admirers of Bailly would be relieved of a great weight, ifthe event of the Champ de la Fédération had been darkened only by thetestimonies of Chaumettes and Coffinhals. Unfortunately, the publicaccuser produced some very grave documents during the debates, which theimpartial historian cannot overlook. Let us say, however, just tocorrect one error out of a thousand, that on the day of Bailly's trial, the public accuser was Naulin, and not Fouquier Tinville, notwithstanding all that has been written on this subject by personscalling themselves well-informed, and even some of the accused'sintimate friends. 

The catastrophe of the Champ de Mars, when impartially examined in itsessential phases, presents some very simple problems:

Was a petition to the Constituent Assembly illegal that was got up onthe 17th of July, 1791, against a decree issued on the 15th?

Had the petitioners, by assembling on the Champ de Mars, violated anylaw?

Could the two murders committed in the morning be imputed to these men?

Had projects of disorder and rebellion been manifested with sufficientevidence to justify the proclamation of martial law, and especially theputting it into practice?

I say it, Gentlemen, with deep grief, these problems will be answered inthe negative by whoever takes the trouble to analyze without passion, and without preconceived opinions, some authentic documents, whichpeople in general seem to have made it a point to leave in oblivion. ButI hasten to add, that considering the question as to intention, Baillywill continue to appear, after this examination, quite as humane, quiteas honourable, quite as pure as we have found him to be in the otherphases of a public and private life, which might serve as a model. 

In the best epochs of the National Assembly, no one who belonged to itwould have dared to maintain, that to draw up and sign a petition, whatever might be the object of it, were rebellious acts. Never, at thattime, would the President of that great Assembly have called down hate, public vengeance, or a sanguinary repression upon those who attempted, said Charles Lameth, in the sitting of the 16th of July, "to opposetheir individual will to the law, which is an expression of the nationalwill. " The right of petition seemed as if it ought to be absolute, evenif contrary to sanctioned and promulgated laws in full action, and evenmore so against legislative arrangements still under discussion, orscarcely voted. 

The petitioners of the Champ de Mars asked the Constituent Assembly torevise a decree that they had issued two days before. We have nooccasion to examine whether the act was reasonable, opportune, dictatedby an enlightened view of the public good. The question is simple; insoliciting the Assembly to revise a decree, they violated no law. Perhaps it will be thought that the petitioners at least committed anunusual act, contrary to all custom. Even this would be unfounded. Inten various instances, the National Assembly modified or annulled itsown decrees; in twenty others, it had been entreated to revise them, without any cry of anarchy being raised. 

It is well ascertained, that the crowd on the Champ de Mars availeditself of a right that the constitution recognized, that of getting upand signing a petition against a decree which, right or wrong, itthought was opposed to the true interests of the country. Still, theexercise of the right of petitioning was always wisely subjected tocertain forms. Had these forms been violated? Was the meeting illegal?

In 1791, according to the decrees, every meeting that wished to exercisethe right of petition must consist of unarmed citizens, and be announcedto the competent authorities twenty-four hours beforehand. 

Well, on the 16th of July, twelve persons had gone as a deputation tothe municipality, in order to declare, according to law, that the nextday, the 17th, numerous citizens would meet, without arms, on the Champde Mars, where they wished to sign a petition. The deputation obtainedan acknowledgment of its declaration from the hand of the syndicprocurator Desmousseaux, who addressed them besides with these solemnwords: "The law shields you with its inviolability. "

The acknowledgment was presented to Bailly on the day of hiscondemnation. 

Had they committed some assassinations? Yes, undoubtedly; they hadcommitted two; but in the morning, very early; but at the Gros Caillou, and not on the Champ de Mars. Those horrid murders could notlegitimately be imputed to the petitioners who, eight or ten hoursafter, surrounded the altar of their country; to the crowd who fell bythe fusillade of the National Guard. By changing the date of thesecrimes, and displacing also the localities where these crimes werecommitted, some historians of our revolution, and amongst others thebest known of all, have given, without intending it, to the meeting inthe afternoon, a character that cannot be honestly concurred in. 

It is requisite we should know at what hour, in what place, and how, these misfortunes happened, before we hazard an opinion on thesanguinary acts of that day, the 17th of July. 

A young man had gone that day very early to the altar of his country. This young man wished to copy several inscriptions. All at once he hearda singular noise, and very soon after the worm of a wimble shot up fromthe planked floor on which he was standing. The youth went and soughtthe guard, who raised the plank, and found beneath the altar twoill-looking individuals, lying down, and furnished with provisions. Oneof these men was an invalid with a wooden leg. The guard seized them, and took them to the Gros Caillou, to the section, to the Commissary ofPolice. On the way, the barrel of water with which these unfortunate menhad provided themselves under the altar of their country, wastransformed, according to the ordinary course of things, into a barrelof gunpowder. The inhabitants of that quarter of the town collectedtogether; it was on a Sunday. The women especially showed themselvesvery much irritated when the purpose of the auger-holes was told them, as declared by the invalid. When the two prisoners came out of the hallto be conducted to the Hôtel de Ville, the crowd tore them from theguard, massacred them, and paraded their heads on pikes!

It cannot be too often repeated, that these hideous assassinations, this execution of two old vagabonds by the barbarous and blindedpopulation of the Gros Caillou, evidently had no relation to, noconnection with, the events which, in the evening, carried mourning intothe Champ de la Fédération. 

On the evening of the 17th of July, from five to seven o'clock, had thecrowd which was collected around the altar of their country an aspect ofturbulence, giving reason to fear a riot, sedition, violence, or anyanarchical enterprise?

Relative to this point, we have the written declaration of threecouncillors, whom the municipality had sent in the morning to the GrosCaillou, on the first intimation of the two assassinations of which Ihave just spoken. This declaration was presented to Bailly on the day ofhis condemnation. We read therein, "that the assembled citizens on theChamp de Mars had in no way acted contrary to law; that they only askedfor time to sign their petition before they retired; that the crowd hadshown all possible respect to the commissaries, and given proofs ofsubmission to the law and its agents. " The Municipal Councillors, ontheir return to the Hôtel de Ville, accompanied by a deputation oftwelve of the petitioners, protested strongly against the proclamationof martial law; they declared that if the red flag was unfurled, theywould be regarded, and with some appearance of reason, as traitors andfaithless men. 

Vain efforts; the anger of the councillors, confined since the morningat the Hôtel de Ville, carried the day over the enlightened opinion ofthose who had been sent scrupulously to study the state of affairs, whohad mixed in the crowd, who returned after having reassured it bypromises. 

I might invoke the testimony of one of my honourable colleagues. Led bythe fine weather, and somewhat also by curiosity, towards the Champ deMars, he was enabled to observe all; and he has assured me that therenever was a meeting which showed less turbulence or seditious spirit;that especially the women and children were very numerous. Is it not, besides, perfectly proved now, that on the morning of the 17th July, theJacobin club, by means of printed placards, disavowed any intention ofpetitioning; and that the influential men of the Jacobins and of theCordeliers, --those men whose presence might have given to this concoursethe dangerous character of a riot, --not only did not appear there, buthad started in the night for the country?

By thus connecting together all the circumstances whence it is provedthat martial law was proclaimed and put in practice on the 17th of Julywithout legitimate motives, a most terrible responsibility seems atfirst sight to be cast on the memory of Bailly. But reassure yourselves, Gentlemen; the events which are now grouped together, and are exhibitedto our eyes with complete evidence, were not known on that inauspiciousday at the Hôtel de Ville, until they had been distorted by the spiritof party. 

In the month of July, 1791, after the king had returned from Varennes, the monarchy and the republic began for the first time to be dangerouslyopposed to each other; in an instant passion took the place of coolreason in the minds of the respective partisans of the two differentforms of government. The terrible formula: _We must make an end of it!_was in everybody's mouth. 

Bailly was surrounded by those passionate politicians who, without theleast scruple as to the honesty or legality of the means, aredetermined to make an end of the adversaries who annoy them, as soon ascircumstances seem to promise them victory. 

Bailly had still near him some Eschevins long accustomed to regard himas a magistrate for show. 

The former gave the Mayor false, or highly coloured intelligence. Theothers, by long habit, did not conceive themselves obliged tocommunicate any thing to him. 

On the bloody day of July, 1791, of all the inhabitants of Paris, perhaps Bailly was the man who knew with least detail or correctness theevents of the morning and of the evening. 

Bailly, with his deep horror for falsehood, would have thought that hewas most cruelly insulting the magistrates, if he had not attributed tothem similar sentiments to his own. His uprightness prevented his beingsufficiently on the watch against the machinations of parties. It wasevidently by false reports that he was induced to unfurl the red flag onthe 17th of July: "It was from the reports that followed each other, " hesaid to the Revolutionary Tribunal, on being questioned by thePresident, "and became more and more alarming every hour, that thecouncil adopted the measure of marching with the armed force to theChamp de Mars. "

In all his answers Bailly insisted on the repeated orders he hadreceived from the President of the National Assembly; on the reproachesaddressed to him for not sufficiently watching the agents of foreignpowers; it was against these pretended agents and their creatures, thatthe Mayor of Paris thought he was marching when he put himself at thehead of a column of National Guards. 

Bailly did not even know the cause of the meeting; he had not beeninformed that the crowd wished to sign a petition; and that theprevious evening, according to the decree of the law, there had been adeclaration made to this effect before the competent authority. Hisanswers to the Revolutionary Tribunal leave not the least doubt on thispoint!

Oh Eschevins, Eschevins! when your vain pretensions only were treatedof, the public could forgive you; but the 17th of July, you tookadvantage of Bailly's confidence; you induced him to take sanguinarymeasures of repression, after having fascinated him with false reports;you committed a real crime. If it was the duty of the RevolutionaryTribunal, of deplorable memory, to demand in 1793 from any one anexplanation of the massacres of the Champ de Mars, it was not Baillyassuredly who ought to have been accused in the first place. 

The political party whose blood flowed on the 17th of July, pretended tohave been the victim of a plot concocted by its adversaries. Wheninterrogated by the President of the Revolutionary Tribunal, Baillyanswered: "I had no knowledge of it, but experience has since given mereason to think that such a plot did exist at that time. "

Nothing more serious has ever been written against the promoters of thesanguinary violences on the 17th of July. 

The blame that has been thrown on the events of the Champ de Mars hasnot been confined solely to the fact of proclaiming martial law; therepressive measures that followed that proclamation have been criticizedwith equal bitterness. 

The municipal administration was especially reproached for havinghoisted a red flag much too small; a flag that was called in theTribunal _a pocket flag_; for not having placed this flag at the headof the column, as the law commands, but in such a position, that thepublic on whom the column was advancing could not see it; for havingmade the armed force enter the Champ de Mars, by all the gates on theside towards the town, a manoeuvre that seemed rather intended tosurround the multitude, than to disperse it; for having ordered theNational Guard to load their arms, even on the Place de Grève; forhaving made the guard fire before the three required summonses weremade, and fire upon the people around the altar, whilst the stones andthe pistol shot, which were assigned as the motive for the sanguinaryorder, came from the steps and benches; for allowing some people whowere endeavouring to escape on the side towards l'Ecole Militaire, andothers who had actually jumped into the Seine, to be pursued, shot, andbayonetted. 

It results clearly from one of Bailly's publications, from his answersto the questions put to him by the President of the RevolutionaryTribunal, from the writings of the day:

That the Mayor of Paris gave no order for the troops to be collected onthe 17th of July; that he had had no conference on that day with themilitary authority; that if any arrangements, culpable and contrary tolaw were adopted, as to the situation of the cavalry, of the red flag, and of the Municipal Body, in the column marching on the Champ de Mars, they could not without injustice be imputed to him; that Bailly was notaware of the National Guard having loaded their muskets with ball beforequitting the square of the Hôtel de Ville; that he was not aware even ofthe existence of the red flag, with whose small dimensions he had beenso severely reproached; that the National Guard fired without hisorder; that he made every effort to stop the firing, to stop thepursuit, and make the soldiers resume their ranks; that he congratulatedthe troops of the line, who under the command of Hulin, entered by thegate of l'Ecole Militaire, and not only did not fire, but tore many ofthe unfortunate people from the hands of the National Guard, whoseexasperation amounted to delirium. In short, it might he asked, relativeto any want of exactness attributable to Bailly in that unfortunateaffair, whether it was just to impute it to him who, in his letters toVoltaire on the origin of the sciences, wrote as follows in 1776:

"I am unfortunately short-sighted. I am often humiliated in the opencountry. Whilst I with difficulty can distinguish a house at thedistance of a hundred paces, my friends relate to me what they see atthe distance of five or six hundred. I open my eyes, I fatigue myselfwithout seeing any thing, and I am sometimes inclined to think that theyamuse themselves at my expense. "

You begin to see, Gentlemen, the advantage that a firm and able lawyermight have drawn from the authentic facts that I have just beenrelating. But Bailly knew the pretended jury before whom he had toappear. This jury was not a collection of drunken cobblers, whateversome passionate writers may have asserted; it was worse than that, Gentlemen, notwithstanding the deservedly celebrated names that wereoccasionally interspersed among them: it was--let us cut the subjectshort--an odious, commission. 

The very circumscribed list from which chance in 1793 and 1794 drew thejuries of the Revolutionary Tribunals, did not embrace, as the sacredword _jury_ seems to imply, all one class of citizens. The authoritiesformed it, after a prefatory and very minute inquiry, of theiradherents only. The unfortunate defendants were thus judged not byimpartial persons free from any preconceived system, but by politicalenemies, which is as much as to say, by that which is the most cruel andremorseless in the world. 

Bailly would not be defended. After his appearance as a witness in thetrial of Marie Antoinette, the ex-Mayor only wrote and had printed forcirculation, a paper entitled _Bailly to his fellow-citizens_. It closeswith these affecting words:

"I have only gained by the Revolution that which my fellow-citizens havegained: liberty and equality. I have lost by it some useful situations, and my fortune is nearly destroyed. I could be happy with what remainsof it to me and a clear conscience; but to be happy in the repose of myretreat, I require, my dear fellow-citizens, your esteem: I know wellthat, sooner or later, you will do me justice; but I require it while Ilive, and while I am yet amongst you. "

Our colleague was unanimously condemned. We should despair of thefuture, unless such a unanimity struck all friends of justice andhumanity with stupor, if it did not increase the number of decidedadversaries to all political tribunals. 

When the President of the Tribunal interrogated the accused, alreadydeclared guilty, as to whether he had any reclamations to make relativeto the execution of the sentence, Bailly answered:

"I have always carried out the law; I shall know how to submit myself toit, since you are its organ. "

The illustrious convict was led back to his cell. 

Bailly had said in his éloge on M. De Tressan: "French gaiety producesthe same effect as stoicism. " These words occurred to my memory at thetime when I was gathering from various sources the proof that onreëntering the Conciergerie after his condemnation, Bailly showedhimself at once both gay and stoical. 

He desired his nephew, M. Batbéda, to play a game at piquet with him asusual. He thought of all the circumstances connected with the frightfulmorrow with such coolness, that he even said with a smile to M. Batbédaduring the game: "Let us rest awhile, my friend, and take a pinch ofsnuff; to-morrow I shall be deprived of this pleasure, for I shall havemy hands tied behind my back. "

I will quote some words which, while testifying to a similar degreeBailly's serenity of mind, are more in harmony with his grave character, and more worthy of being preserved in history. 

One of the companions of the illustrious academician's captivity, on theevening of the 11th of November, with tears in his eyes and moved by atender veneration, exclaimed: "Why did you let us fancy there was apossibility of acquittal? You deceived us then?"--Bailly answered: "No, I was teaching you never to despair of the laws of your country. "

In the paroxysms of wild despair, some of the prisoners reviewing thepast, went so far as to regret that they had never infringed the laws ofthe strictest honesty. 

Bailly brought back these minds, erring for the moment from the path ofduty, by repeating to them maxims which both in form and substance wouldnot disparage the collections of the most celebrated moralists:

"It is false, very false, that a crime can ever be useful. The trade ofan honest man is the safest, even in times of revolution. Enlightenedegotism suffices to put any intelligent individual into the path ofjustice and truth. Whenever innocence can be sacrificed with impunity, crime is not sure of succeeding. There is so great a difference betweenthe death of a good man and that of a wicked man, that the multitude isincapable of estimating it. "

Cannibals devouring their vanquished enemies seem to me less hideous, less contrary to nature, than those wretches, the refuse of thepopulation of large towns, who, too often alas! have carried theirferocity so far, as to disturb by their clamorous and infamous raillerythe last moments of the unhappy victims about to be struck by the swordof the law. The more humiliating this picture of the degradation of thehuman species may be, the more we should beware of overcharging thecolouring. With few exceptions, the historians of Bailly's last agonyappear to me to have forgotten this duty. Was the truth, the stricttruth, not sufficiently distressing? Was it requisite, without any sortof proof, to impute to the mass of the people the infernal cynicism ofcannibals? Should they lightly make just sentiments of disgust andindignation rest upon an immense class of citizens? I think not, Gentlemen, and I will therefore avoid the cruelty and poignancy ofchaining the thoughts for a long time on such scenes; I will prove thatby rendering the drama a little less atrocious, I have only sacrificedimaginary details, which are the envenomed fruits of the spirit of theparty. 

I will not shut my ears to the questions that already hum around me. People will say to me, What are your claims for daring to modify a pageof our revolutionary history, on which every one seemed agreed? Whatright have you to weaken contemporary testimonies, you, who at the timeof Bailly's death, were scarcely born; you, who lived in an obscurevalley of the Pyrenees, two hundred and twenty leagues from the capital?

These questions do not embarrass me at all. In short, I do not ask thatthe relation of what seems to me to be the expression of the truth, should be adopted upon my word. I enumerate my proofs, I express mydoubts. Within these limits there is no one but has claims to bringforward; the discussion is open to all the world, the public willpronounce its definitive judgment. 

As a general thesis, I will add that by concentrating our researches onone circumscribed and special object, we have a better chance of seeingit correctly and knowing it well, all other things being equal, than byscattering our attention in all directions. 

As to the merit of contemporaneous narratives, it seems to me verydubious. Political passions do not allow us to see objects in their realdimensions, nor in their true forms, nor in their natural colours. Moreover, have not unpublished and very valuable documents come to shedbright colours, just where the spirit of party had spread a thick veil?

The account that Riouffe gave of the death of Bailly has almost blindlyled all the historians of our revolution. What does it consist of "atbottom. " The prisoner of la Conciergerie said it himself; of talesrelated by executioners' valets, repeated by turnkeys. 

I would willingly allow this account to be set against me, notwithstanding the horrid sewer from which Riouffe had been obliged todraw, if it were not evident that this clever writer saw all therevolutionary events through the just anger that an ardent and activeyoung man must feel after an iniquitous imprisonment; if this current ofsentiments and ideas had not led him into some manifest errors. 

Who has not, for example, read with tears in their eyes, in the_Mémoires sur les Prisons_, what the author relates of the fourteengirls of Verdun? "Of those girls, " he said, "of unparalleled fairness, and who appeared like young virgins dressed for a public fête. Theydisappeared, " added Riouffe, "all at once, and were mowed down in thespring of life. The court occupied by the women the day after theirdeath, had the appearance of a garden that had been despoiled of itsflowers by a storm. I have never seen amongst us a despair equal to thatexcited by this barbarity. "

Far be from me the intention to weaken the painful feelings which thecatastrophe related by Riouffe must naturally inspire; but every one hasremarked that the report of this writer is very circumstantial; theauthor appears to have seen all with his own eyes. Yet he has beenguilty of the gravest inaccuracy. 

Out of the fourteen unfortunate women who were sentenced after Verdunwas retaken from the Prussians, two girls of seventeen years of age werenot condemned to death on account of their youth. 

This first circumstance was well worth recording. Let us go farther. Ahistorian having lately consulted the official journals of that epoch, and the bulletin of the Revolutionary Tribunal, discovered with somesurprise that among the twelve _young girls_ who were condemned, therewere seven either married or widows, whose ages varied from forty-one tosixty-nine!

Contemporary accounts then, even those of Riouffe, may be submittedwithout irreverence to earnest discussion. When a tenth part of thefunds annually devoted to researches in and examination of oldchronicles, is applied to making extracts from the registers relative tothe French Revolution, we shall certainly see many other hideouscircumstances that revolt the soul, disappear from our contemporaryhistory. Look at the massacres of September! The historians most invogue report the number of victims that fell in that butchery to havebeen from six to twelve thousand; whilst a writer who has lately takenthe trouble to analyze the prison registers in the gaoler's books, cannot make the whole amount to one thousand. Even this number is verylarge; but, for my part, I thank the author of this recent publicationfor having reduced the number of assassinations in September to lessthan a tenth part of what had been generally admitted. 

When the discussion which I have here undertaken becomes known to thepublic, it will be seen how many and how important are the retrenchmentsto be made from that lugubrious page of our history. Another importantcircumstance may be appreciated, which appears to me to arise from allthese facts. After having weighed my proofs, every one I hope will joinme in seeing that the wretches around the scaffold of Bailly were butthe refuse of the population, fulfilling for pay the part that had beenassigned them by three or four wealthy cannibals. 

The sentence pronounced against Bailly by the Revolutionary Tribunal wasto be executed on the 12th of November, 1793. The reminiscences recentlypublished by a fellow-prisoner of our colleague, the reminiscences of M. Beugnot, will enable us to penetrate into the Conciergerie, on themorning of that inauspicious day. 

Bailly had risen early, after having slept as usual, the sleep of thejust. He took some chocolate, and conversed a long time with hisnephew. The young man was a prey to despair, but the illustriousprisoner preserved all his serenity. The previous evening in returningfrom the Tribunal, he remarked, with admirable coolness, thoughspringing from a certain disquietude, "that the spectators of his trialhad been strongly excited against him. I fear, " he added, "that the mereexecution of the sentence will no longer satisfy them, which might bedangerous in its consequences. Perhaps the police will provide againstit. " These reflections having recurred to Bailly's mind on the 12th, heasked for, and drank hastily, two cups of coffee without milk. Theseprecautions were a sinister omen. To his friends who surrounded him atthis awful moment, and were sobbing aloud, he said, "Be calm; I haverather a difficult journey to perform, and I distrust my constitution. Coffee excites and reanimates; I hope, however, to reach the endproperly. "

Noon had just struck. Bailly addressed a last and tender adieu to hiscompanions in captivity, wished them a better fate, followed theexecutioner without weakness as well as without bravado, mounted thefatal cart, his hands tied behind his back. Our colleague was accustomedto say: "We must entertain a bad opinion of those who, in their dyingmoments, have not a look to cast behind them. " Bailly's last look wastowards his wife. A gendarme of the escort feelingly listened to hislast words, and faithfully repeated them to his widow. The processionreached the entrance to the Champ de Mars, on the side towards theriver, at a quarter past one o'clock. This was the place where, according to the words of the sentence, the scaffold had been raised. The blinded crowd collected there, furiously exclaimed that the sacredground of the Champ de la Fédération should not be soiled by thepresence and by the blood of him whom they called a great criminal. Upontheir demand (I had almost said their orders), the scaffold was takendown again, and carried piecemeal into one of the fosses, where it wasput up afresh. Bailly remained the stern witness of these frightfulpreparations, and of these infernal clamours. Not one complaint escapedfrom his lips. Rain had been falling all the morning; it was cold; itdrenched the body, and especially the bare head, of the venerable man. Awretch saw that he was shivering, and cried out to him, _"Thoutremblest, Bailly. "_--"_I am cold, my friend_, " mildly answered thevictim. These were his last words. 

Bailly descended into the moat, where the executioner burnt before himthe red flag of the 17th July; he then with a firm step mounted thescaffold. Let us have the courage to say it, when the head of ourvenerable colleague fell, the paid witnesses whom this horrid executionhad assembled on the Champ de Mars burst into infamous acclamations. 

I had announced a faithful recital of the martyrdom of Bailly; I havekept my word. I said that I should banish many circumstances withoutreality, and that the drama would thus become less atrocious. If I am totrust your aspect, I have not accomplished the second part of mypromise. The imagination perhaps cannot reach beyond the cruel facts onwhich I have been obliged to dilate. You ask what I can have retrenchedfrom former relations, whilst what remains is so deplorable. 

The order for execution addressed by Fouquier Tinville to theexecutioner has been seen by several persons now living. They alldeclare that if it differs from the numerous orders of a similar naturethat the wretch sent off daily, it was only by the substitution of thefollowing words: "Esplanade du Champ de Mars, " for the usual designationof "Place de la Revolution. " Now, the Revolutionary Tribunal hasdeserved many anathemas, but I never remarked its being reproached withnot having known how to enforce obedience. 

I felt myself relieved from an immense weight, Gentlemen, when I coulddispel from my thoughts the image of a melancholy march on foot of twohours, because with it there disappeared two hours of corporealill-usage, which, according to those same accounts, our virtuouscolleague must have endured from the Conciergerie to the Champ de Mars. 

An illustrious writer asserts that they conducted Bailly to the Place dela Revolution, that the scaffold there was taken to pieces on themultitude demanding it, and that the victim was then led to the Champ deMars. This relation is not correct. The sentence expressed in positiveterms, that, as an exception, the Square of the Revolution was not to bethe scene of Bailly's execution. The procession went direct to the placedesignated. 

The historian already quoted affirms that the scaffold on being put upagain on the bank of the Seine was erected on a heap of rubbish; thatthis operation lasted some hours, and that Bailly meanwhile was drawnround the Champ de Mars several times. 

These promenades are imaginary. Those men who on the arrival of thelugubrious procession vociferated that the presence of the old Mayor ofParis would soil the Champ de la Fédération, could not the next minuteforce him to make the circuit of it. In fact, the illustrious victimremained in the road. The cruel idea, so knowingly attributed to theactors of those hideous scenes, to raise the fatal instrument on a heapof rubbish on the river bank, so that Bailly might in his last momentssee the house at Chaillot where he had composed his works, was so farfrom occurring to the mind of the multitude, that the sentence wasexecuted in the moat between two walls. 

I have not thought it my duty, Gentlemen, to represent the condemned manforced to carry some parts of the scaffold himself, because he had hishands tied behind his back. In my recital nobody waves the burning redflag over Bailly's head, because this barbarity is not mentioned in thenarratives, otherwise so shocking, drawn up by some friends of ourcolleague shortly after the event; nor have I consented, with the authorof _The History of the French Revolution_, to represent one of thesoldiers forming the escort asking the question that led the victim tomake, we must say so, the theatrical answer: "Yes, I tremble, but it iswith cold;" but the more touching answer, so characteristic of Bailly;"Yes, my friend, I am cold. "

Far be it from me, Gentlemen, to suppose that no soldier in the worldwould be capable of a despicable and culpable act. I do not ask, assuredly, the suppression of all courts-martial; but to be induced toattribute to a man dressed in a military uniform, a personal part inthis frightful drama, proofs or contemporary testimonies would berequired, of which I have found no trace. 

If the fact had occurred, its results would certainly have become knownto the public. I take to witness an event which is found related inBailly's Memoirs. 

On the 22d of July, 1789, on the square of the Hôtel de Ville, a dragoonwith his sabre mutilated the corpse of Berthier. His comrades, feelingoutraged by this barbarity, all showed themselves instantly resolved tofight him in succession, and so wash out in his blood the disgrace hehad thrown on the whole corps. The dragoon fought that same evening andwas killed. 

In his _History of Prisons_, Riouffe says that "Bailly exhausted theferocity of the populace, of whom he had been the idol, and was baselyabandoned by the people, though they had never ceased to esteem him. "

Nearly the same idea is found expressed in _The History of theRevolution_, and in several other works. 

What is called the populace rarely read and did not write. To attack itand calumniate it therefore was a convenient thing, since no refutationneed to be feared. I am far from supposing that the historians whoseworks I have quoted, ever gave way to such considerations; but I affirm, with entire certainty, that they have deceived themselves. In thesanguinary drama that has been unrolled before your eyes, the atrocitieshad a quite different source from the sentiments common to thebarbarians that were swarming in the dregs of society and always readyto soil it with every crime; in plainer words, it is not to theunfortunate people who have neither property, nor capital, living by thework of their hands, to the _prolétaires_, that we are to impute thedeplorable incidents which marked Bailly's last moments. To put forwardan opinion so remote from received opinions, is imposing on one's selfthe duty of proving its truth. 

After his condemnation, our colleague exclaimed, says La Fayette: "I diefor the sitting of the Jeu de Paume, and not for the fatal day at theChamp de Mars. " I do not here intend to expound these mysterious wordsin the glimpses they give us by a half-light; but, whatever meaning wemay attribute to them, it is evident that the sentiments and passions ofthe lower class have no share in them; it is a point beyond discussion. 

On reëntering the Conciergerie, the evening before his death, Baillyspoke of the efforts that must have been made to excite the passions ofthe auditors, who followed the various phases of his trial. Factitiousexcitement is always the produce of corruption. The working classes arewithout money;, they then cannot have been the corruptors or directpromoters of the distressing scenes of which Bailly complained. 

The implacable enemies of the former President of the National Assemblyhad procured for pay some auxiliaries among the turnkeys of theConciergerie. M. Beugnot informs us that when the venerable magistratewas consigned to the gendarmes who were to conduct him to the Tribunal, "these wretches pushed him violently, sending him from one to the otherlike a drunken man, calling out: _Hold there, Bailly! Catch, Bailly, there!_ and that they laughed and shouted at the grave demeanour thephilosopher maintained amidst the insults of those cannibals. "

To confirm my statement that these violences (in comparison with which, in truth, those of the Champ de Mars lose their virulence, ) werefomented by pay, I have more than the formal declaration of ourcolleague's fellow prisoner. For in fact I find that no other prisoneror convict underwent such treatment; not even the man called theAdmiral, when he was taken to the Conciergerie for having attempted toassassinate Collot-d'Herbois. 

Besides, it is not only on indirect considerations that my decidedopinion is founded relative to the intervention of rich and influentialpeople in those scenes of indescribable barbarity on the Champ de Mars. Mérard St. Just, the intimate friend of Bailly, has alluded by hisinitials to a wretch who, the very day of our colleague's death, publicly boasted of having electrified the few acolytes who, togetherwith him, insisted on the removal of the scaffold; the day after theexecution, the meeting of the Jacobins reëchoed with the name of anotherindividual of the Gros Caillou, who also claimed his share of influencein the crime. 

I have progressively unrolled before you the series of events in ourrevolution, in which Bailly took an active part; I have scrupulouslysearched out the smallest circumstances of the deplorable affair on theChamp de Mars; I have followed our colleague in his proscription to theRevolutionary Tribunal, and to the foot of the scaffold. We had seen himbefore, surrounded by esteem, by respect, and by glory, in the bosom ofour principal academies. Yet the work is not complete; several essentialtraits are still wanting. 

I will therefore claim a few more minutes of your kind attention. Themoral life of Bailly is like those masterpieces of ancient sculpture, that deserve to be studied in every point of view, and in which newbeauties are continually discovered, in proportion as the contemplationis prolonged. 

PORTRAIT OF BAILLY. --HIS WIFE. 

Nature did not endow Bailly generously with those exterior advantagesthat please us at first sight. He was tall and thin. His visagecompressed, his eyes small and sunk, his nose regular, but of unusuallength, and a very brown complexion, constituted an imposing whole, severe and almost glacial. Fortunately, it was easy to perceive throughthis rough bark, the inexhaustible benevolence of the good man; thekindness that always accompanies a serene mind, and even some rudimentsof gayety. 

Bailly early endeavoured to model his conduct on that of the Abbé deLacaille, who directed his first steps in the career of astronomy. Andtherefore it will be found that in transcribing five or six lines of thevery feeling eulogy that the pupil dedicated to the memory of hisrevered master, I shall have made known at the same time many of thecharacteristic traits of the panegyrist:

"He was cold and reserved towards those of whom he knew little; butgentle, simple, equable, and familiar in the intercourse of friendship. It is there that, throwing off the grave exterior which he wore inpublic, he gave himself up to a peaceful and amiable gayety. "

The resemblance between Bailly and Lacaille goes no farther. Baillyinforms us that the great astronomer proclaimed truth on all occasions, without disquieting himself as to whom it might wound. He would notconsent to put vice at its ease, saying:

"If good men thus showed their indignation, bad men being known, andvice unmasked, could no longer do harm, and virtue would be morerespected. " This Spartan morality could not accord with Bailly'scharacter; he admired but did not adopt it. 

Tacitus took as a motto: "To say nothing false, to omit nothing true. "Our colleague contented himself in society with the first half of theprecept. Never did mockery, bitterness, or severity issue from his lips. His manners were a medium between those of Lacaille and the manners ofanother academician who had succeeded in not making a single enemy, byadopting the two axioms: "Every thing is possible, and everybody is inthe right. "

Crébillon obtained permission from the French Academy to make hisreception discourse in verse. At the moment when that poet, then almostsixty years of age, said, speaking of himself, "No gall has ever poisoned my pen, "

the hall reëchoed with approbation. 

I was going to apply this line by the author of _Rhadamistus_ to ourcolleague, when accident offered to my sight a passage in which Lalandereproaches Bailly for having swerved from his usual character, in 1773, in a discussion that they had together on a point in the theory ofJupiter's Satellites. I set about the search for this discussion; Ifound the article by Bailly in a journal of that epoch, and I affirmthat this dispute does not contain a word but what is in harmony withall our colleague's published writings. I return therefore to my formeridea, and say of Bailly, with perfect confidence, "No gall had ever poisoned his pen. "

Diffidence is usually the trait that the biographers of studious menendeavour most to put in high relief. I dare assert, that in the commonacceptation, this is pure flattery. To merit the epithet of diffident, must we think ourselves beneath the competitors of whom we are at leastthe equals? Must we, in examining ourselves, fail in the tact, in theintelligence, in the judgment, that nature has awarded us, and of whichwe make so good a use in appreciating the works of others? Oh! then, fewlearned men can be said to be diffident. Look at Newton: his diffidenceis almost as celebrated as his genius. Well, I will extract from two ofhis letters, scarcely known, two paragraphs which, put side by side, will excite some surprise; the first confirms the general opinion; thesecond seems with equal force to contradict it. Here are the twopassages:

"We are diffident in the presence of Nature. "

"We may nobly feel our own strength in the face of man's works. "

In my opinion, the opposition in these two passages is only apparent; itwill he explained by means of a distinction which I have alreadyslightly indicated. 

Bailly's diffidence required the same distinction. When people praisedhim to his face on the diversity of his knowledge, our colleague did notimmediately repel the compliment; but soon after, he would stop hispanegyrist, and whisper in his ear with an air of mystery: "I willconfide a secret to you, pray do not take advantage of it: I am only avery little less ignorant than another man. "

Never did a man act more in harmony with his principles. Bailly was ledto reprimand severely a man belonging to the humblest and poorest classof society. Anger does not make him forget that he speaks to a citizen, to a man. "I ask pardon, " says the first magistrate of the capital, addressing himself to a rag-gatherer; "I ask your pardon, if I am angry;but your conduct is so reprehensible, that I cannot speak to youotherwise. "

Bailly's friends were wont to say that he devoted too much of hispatrimony to pleasure. This word was calumniously interpreted. MérardSaint Just has given the true sense of it: "Bailly's pleasure wasbeneficence. "

So eminent a mind could not fail to be tolerant. Such in fact Baillyconstantly showed himself in politics, and what is almost equally rare, in regard to religion. In the month of June, 1791, he checked in severeterms the fury with which the multitude appeared to be excited, at thereport that at the Théatines some persons had taken the Communion twoor three times in one day. "The accusation is undoubtedly false, " saidthe Mayor of Paris; "but if it were true, the public would not have aright to inquire into it. Every one should have the free choice of hisreligion and his creed. " Nothing would have been wanting in the picture, if Bailly had taken the trouble to remark how strange it was, that theseviolent scruples against repeated Communions emanated from persons whoprobably never took the Sacrament at all. 

The reports on animal magnetism, on the hospitals, on theslaughter-houses, had carried Bailly's name into regions, whence thecourtiers knew very cleverly how to discard true merit. _Madame_ thenwished to attach the illustrious academician to her person as a cabinetsecretary. Bailly accepted. It was an entirely honorary title. Thesecretary saw the princess only once, that was on the day of hispresentation. 

Were more important functions reserved for him? We must suppose so; forsome influential persons offered to procure Bailly a title of nobilityand a decoration. This time the philosopher flatly refused, saying, inanswer to the earnest negotiators: "I thank you, but he who has thehonour of belonging to the three principal academies of France issufficiently decorated, sufficiently noble in the eyes of rational men;a cordon, or a title, could add nothing to him. "

The first secretary of the Academy of Sciences had, some years before, acted as Bailly did. Only he gave his refusal in such strong terms, thatI could not easily believe them to have been written by the timid pen ofFontenelle, if I did not find them in a perfectly authentic document, inwhich he says: "Of all the titles in this world, I have never had anybut of one sort, the titles of Academician, and they have not beenprofaned by an admixture of any others, more worldly and moreostentatious. "

Bailly married, in November, 1787, an intimate friend of his mother's, already a widow, only two years younger than himself. Madame Bailly, adistant relation of the author of the _Marseillaise_, had an attachmentfor her husband that bordered on adoration. She lavished on him the mosttender and affectionate attention. The success that Madame Bailly mighthave had in the fashionable world by her beauty, her grace, by herineffable goodness, did not tempt her. She lived in almost absoluteretirement, even when the learned academician was most in society. TheMayor's wife appeared only at one public ceremony: the day of thebenediction of the colours of the sixty battalions of the National Guardby the Archbishop of Paris, she accompanied Madame de Lafayette to theCathedral. She said: "My husband's duty is to show himself in publicwherever there is any good to be done, or sound advice to be given; mineis to remain at home. " This rare retiring and respectable conduct didnot disarm some hideous pamphleteers. Their impudent sarcasms werecontinually attacking the modest wife on her domestic hearth, andtroubling her peace of mind. In their logic of the tavern they fanciedthat an elegant and handsome woman, who avoided society, could not failto be ignorant and stupid. Thence arose a thousand imaginary stories, ridiculous both as to their matter and form, thrown out daily to thepublic, more, indeed, to offend and disgust the upright magistrate thanto humble his companion. 

The axe that ended our colleague's life, with the same stroke, andalmost as completely, crushed in Madame Bailly, after so many poignantagitations and unexampled misfortunes, all that was left of strength ofmind and power of intellect. A strange incident also aggravated thesadness of Madame Bailly's situation. On a day of trouble, during herhusband's lifetime, she had placed the assignats resulting from the saleof their house at Chaillot, amounting to about thirty thousand francs, in the wadding of a dress. The enfeebled memory of the unfortunate widowdid not recall to her the existence of this treasure, even in the timeof her greatest distress. When the age of the material which hadsecreted them began to reveal them to daylight, they were no longer ofany value. 

The widow of the author of one of the best works of the age, of thelearned member of our three great academies, of the first President ofthe National Assembly, of the first Mayor of Paris, found herself thusreduced, by an unheard-of turn of fortune, to implore help from publicpity. It was the geometer Cousin, member of this academy, who by hisincessant solicitations got Madame Bailly's name inserted at the Boardof Charity in his arrondissement. The support was distributed in kind. Cousin used to receive the articles at the Hôtel de Ville, where he wasa Municipal Councillor, and carried them himself to the street de laSourdière. It was, in short, in the street de la Sourdière that MadameBailly had obtained two rooms gratis, in the house of a compassionateperson, whose name I very much regret not having learnt. Does it notappear to you, Gentlemen, that the academician Cousin, who crossed thewhole of Paris, with the bread under his arm and the meat and thecandle, intended for the unfortunate widow of an illustrious colleague, did himself more honour than if he had come to one of the sittingsbringing in his portfolio the results of some fine scientific research?Such noble actions are certainly worth good "Papers. "

Affairs proceeded thus up to the revolution of the 18th Brumaire. On the21st, the public criers were announcing everywhere, even in the streetde la Sourdière, that General Bonaparte was Consul, and M. De LaplaceMinister of the Interior. This name, so well known by the respectablewidow, reached even the room that she inhabited, and caused her someemotion. That same evening, the new minister (this was a noblebeginning, Gentlemen) asked for a pension of 2000 francs for MadameBailly. The Consul granted the demand, adding to it this expresscondition, that the first half year should be paid in advance, andimmediately. Early on the 22d, a carriage stopped in the street de laSourdière; Madame de Laplace descends from it, carrying in her hand apurse filled with gold. She rushed to the staircase, runs to the humbleabode, that had now for several years witnessed irremediable sorrow andsevere misery; Madame Bailly was at the window: "My dear friend, whatare you doing there so early?" exclaimed the wife of the minister. "Madam, " replied the widow, "I heard the public crier yesterday, and Iwas expecting you!"

If after having, from a sense of duty, expatiated upon anarchical, odious, and sanguinary scenes, the historian of our civil discords hasthe good fortune to meet on his progress with an incident that gratifiesthe mind, raises the soul, and fills the heart with pleasing emotions, he stops there, Gentlemen, as the African traveller halts in an oasis!

HERSCHEL. 

William Herschel, one of the greatest astronomers that ever lived in anyage or country, was born at Hanover, on the 15th of November, 1738. Thename of Herschel has become too illustrious for people to neglectsearching back, up the stream of time, to learn the social position ofthe families that have borne it. Yet the just curiosity of the learnedworld on this subject has not been entirely satisfied. We only know thatAbraham Herschel, great-grandfather of the astronomer, resided atMähren, whence he was expelled on account of his strong attachment tothe Protestant faith; that Abraham's son Isaac was a farmer in thevicinity of Leipzig; that Isaac's eldest son, Jacob Herschel, resistedhis father's earnest desire to see him devote himself to agriculture, that he determined on being a musician, and settled at Hanover. 

Jacob Herschel, father of William, the astronomer, was an eminentmusician; nor was he less remarkable for the good qualities of his heartand of his mind. His very limited means did not enable him to bestow acomplete education on his family, consisting of six boys and four girls. But at least, by his care, his ten children all became excellentmusicians. The eldest, Jacob, even acquired a rare degree of ability, which procured for him the appointment of Master of the Band in aHanoverian regiment, which he accompanied to England. The third son, William, remained under his father's roof. Without neglecting the finearts, he took lessons in the French language, and devoted himself to thestudy of metaphysics, for which he retained a taste to his latest day. 

In 1759, William Herschel, then about twenty-one years old, went over toEngland, not with his father, as has been erroneously published, butwith his brother Jacob, whose connections in that country seemed likelyto favour the young man's opening prospects in life. Still, neitherLondon nor the country towns afforded him any resource in the beginning, and the first two or three years after his expatriation were marked bysome cruel privations, which, however, were nobly endured. A fortunatechance finally raised the poor Hanoverian to a better position; LordDurham engaged him as Master of the Band in an English regiment whichwas quartered on the borders of Scotland. From this moment the musicianHerschel acquired a reputation that spread gradually, and in the year1765 he was appointed organist at Halifax (Yorkshire). The emoluments ofthis situation, together with giving private lessons both in the townand the country around, procured a degree of comfort for the youngWilliam. He availed himself of it to remedy, or rather to complete, hisearly education. It was then that he learnt Latin and Italian, thoughwithout any other help than a grammar and a dictionary. It was then alsothat he taught himself something of Greek. So great was the desire forknowledge with which he was inspired while residing at Halifax, thatHerschel found means to continue his hard philological exercises, and atthe same time to study deeply the learned but very obscure mathematicalwork on the theory of music by R. Smith. This treatise, eitherexplicitly or implicitly, supposed the reader to possess some knowledgeof algebra and of geometry, which Herschel did not possess, but of whichhe made himself master in a very short time. 

In 1766, Herschel obtained the appointment of organist to the OctagonChapel at Bath. This was a more lucrative post than that of Halifax, butnew obligations also devolved on the able pianist. He had to playincessantly either at the Oratorios, or in the rooms at the baths, atthe theatre, and in the public concerts. Then, being immersed in themost fashionable circle in England, Herschel could no longer refuse thenumerous pupils who wished to be instructed in his school. It isdifficult to imagine how, among so many duties, so many distractions ofvarious kinds, Herschel could continue so many studies, which already atHalifax had required in him so much resolution, so much perseverance, and a very uncommon degree of talent. We have already seen that it wasby music that Herschel was led to mathematics; mathematics in their turnled him to optics, the principal and fertile source of his illustriouscareer. The hour finally struck, when his theoretic knowledge was toguide the young musician into a laborious application of principlesquite foreign to his habits; and the brilliant success of which, as wellas their excessive hardihood, will excite reasonable astonishment. 

A telescope, a simple telescope, only two English feet in length, fallsinto the hands of Herschel during his residence at Bath. Thisinstrument, however imperfect, shows him a multitude of stars in the skythat the naked eye cannot discern; shows him also some of the knownobjects, but now under their true dimensions; reveals forms to him thatthe richest imaginations of antiquity had never suspected. Herschel istransported with enthusiasm. He will, without delay, have a similarinstrument but of larger dimensions. The answer from London is delayedfor some days: these few days appear as many centuries to him. When theanswer arrives, the price that the optician demands proves to be muchbeyond the pecuniary resources of a mere organist. To any other man thiswould have been a clap of thunder. This unexpected difficulty on thecontrary, inspired Herschel with fresh energy; he cannot buy atelescope, then he will construct one with his own hands. The musicianof the Octagon Chapel rushes immediately into a multitude ofexperiments, on metallic alloys that reflect light with the greatestintensity, on the means of giving the parabolic figure to the mirrors, on the causes that in the operation of polishing affect the regularityof the figure, &c. So rare a degree of perseverance at last receives itsreward. In 1774 Herschel has the happiness of being able to examine theheavens with a Newtonian telescope of five English feet focus, entirelymade by himself. This success tempts him to undertake still moredifficult enterprises. Other telescopes of seven, of eight, of ten, andeven of twenty feet focal distance, crown his efforts. As if to answerin advance those critics who would have accused him of a superfluity ofapparatus, of unnecessary luxury, in the large size of the newinstruments, and his extreme minutiæ in their execution, Nature grantedto the astronomical musician, on the 13th of March 1781, the unheard-ofhonour of commencing his career of observation with the discovery of anew planet, situated on the confines of our solar system. Dating fromthat moment, Herschel's reputation, no longer in his character ofmusician, but as a constructor of telescopes and as an astronomer, spread throughout the world. The King, George III. , a great lover ofscience, and much inclined besides to protect and patronize both men andthings of Hanoverian origin, had Herschel presented to him; he wascharmed with the simple yet lucid and modest account that he gave of hisrepeated endeavours; he caught a glimpse of the glory that sopenetrating an observer might reflect on his reign, ensured to him apension of 300 guineas a year, and moreover a residence near WindsorCastle, first at Clay Hall and then at Slough. The visions of GeorgeIII. Were completely realized. We may confidently assert, relative tothe little house and garden of Slough, that it is the spot of all theworld where the greatest number of discoveries have been made. The nameof that village will never perish; science will transmit it religiouslyto our latest posterity. 

I will avail myself of this opportunity to rectify a mistake, of whichignorance and idleness wish to make a triumphant handle, or, at allevents, to wield in their cause as an irresistible justification. It hasbeen repeated to satiety, that at the time when Herschel entered on hisastronomical career he knew nothing of mathematics. But I have alreadysaid, that during his residence at Bath, the organist of the OctagonChapel had familiarized himself with the principles of geometry andalgebra; and a still more positive proof of this is, that a difficultquestion on the vibration of strings loaded with small weights had beenproposed for discussion in 1779: Herschel undertook to solve it, and hisdissertation was inserted in several scientific collections of the year1780. 

The anecdotic life of Herschel, however, is now closed. The greatastronomer will not quit his observatory any more, except to go andsubmit the sublime results of his laborious vigils to the Royal Societyof London. These results are contained in his memoirs; they constituteone of the principal riches of the celebrated collection known under thetitle of _Philosophical Transactions_. 

Herschel belonged to the principal Academies of Europe, and about 1816he was named Knight of the Guelphic order of Hanover. According to theEnglish habit, from the time of that nomination the title of Sir Williamtook the place, in all this illustrious astronomer's memoirs, alreadyhonoured with so much celebrity, of the former appellation of DoctorWilliam. Herschel had been named a Doctor (of laws) in the University ofOxford in 1786. This dignity, by special favour, was conferred on himwithout any of the obligatory formalities of examination, disputation, or pecuniary contribution, usual in that learned corporation. 

I should wound the elevated sentiments that Herschel professed all hislife, if I were not here to mention two indefatigable assistants thatthis fortunate astronomer found in his own family. The one was AlexanderHerschel, endowed with a remarkable talent for mechanism, always at hisbrother's orders, and who enabled him to realize without delay any ideasthat he had conceived;[15] the other was Miss Caroline Herschel, whodeserves a still more particular and detailed mention. 

Miss Caroline Lucretia Herschel went to England as soon as her brotherbecame special astronomer to the king. She received the appellationthere of Assistant Astronomer, with a moderate salary. From that momentshe unreservedly devoted herself to the service of her brother, happyin contributing night and day to his rapidly increasing scientificreputation. Miss Caroline shared in all the night-watches of herbrother, with her eye constantly on the clock, and the pencil in herhand; she made all the calculations without exception; she made three orfour copies of all the observations in separate registers; coördinated, classed, and analyzed them. If the scientific world saw withastonishment how Herschel's works succeeded each other with unexampledrapidity during so many years, they were specially indebted for it tothe ardour of Miss Caroline. Astronomy, moreover, has been directlyenriched by several comets through this excellent and respectable lady. After the death of her illustrious brother, Miss Caroline retired toHanover, to the house of Jahn Dietrich Herschel, a musician of highreputation, and the only surviving brother of the astronomer. 

William Herschel died without pain on the 23d of August 1822, agedeighty-three. Good fortune and glory never altered in him the fund ofinfantine candour, inexhaustible benevolence, and sweetness ofcharacter, with which nature had endowed him. He preserved to the lastboth his brightness of mind and vigour of intellect. For some yearsHerschel enjoyed with delight the distinguished success of his onlyson, [16] Sir John Herschel. At his last hour he sunk to rest with thepleasing conviction that his beloved son, heir of a great name, wouldnot allow it to fall into oblivion, but adorn it with fresh lustre, andthat great discoveries would honour his career also. No prediction ofthe illustrious astronomer has been more completely verified. 

The English journals gave an account of the means adopted by the familyof William Herschel, for preserving the remains of the great telescopeof thirty-nine English feet (twelve metres) constructed by thatcelebrated astronomer. 

The metal tube of the instrument carrying at one end the recentlycleaned mirror of four feet ten inches in diameter, has been placedhorizontally in the meridian line, on solid piers of masonry, in themidst of the circle, where formerly stood the mechanism requisite formanoeuvring the telescope. The first of January 1840, Sir JohnHerschel, his wife, their children, seven in number, and some old familyservants, assembled at Slough. Exactly at noon, the party walked severaltimes in procession round the instrument; they then entered the tube ofthe telescope, seated themselves on benches that had been prepared forthe purpose, and sung a requiem, with English words composed by Sir JohnHerschel himself. After their exit, the illustrious family rangedthemselves around the great tube, the opening of which was thenhermetically sealed. The day concluded with a party of intimate friends. 

I know not whether those persons who will only appreciate things fromthe peculiar point of view from which they have been accustomed to look, may think there was something strange in several of the details of theceremony that I have just described. I affirm at least that the wholeworld will applaud the pious feeling which actuated Sir John Herschel;and that all the friends of science will thank him for havingconsecrated the humble garden where his father achieved such immortallabours, by a monument more expressive in its simplicity than pyramidsor statues. 

FOOTNOTES:

[15] When age and infirmities obliged Alexander Herschel togive up his profession as a musician, he quitted Bath, andreturned to Hanover, very generously provided by Sir Williamwith a comfortable independence for life. 

[16] Sir W. Herschel had married Mary, the widow of John Pitt, Esq. , possessed of a considerable jointure, and the unionproved a remarkable accession of domestic happiness. This ladysurvived Sir William by several years. They had but thisson. --_Translator's Note_. 

CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE

OF THE MEMOIRS OF WILLIAM HERSCHEL. [17]

 1780. _Philosophical Transactions_, vol. Lxx. --Astronomical Observations on the Periodical Star in the Neck of the Whale. --Astronomical Observations relative to the Lunar Mountains. 

 1781. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Lxxi. --Astronomical Observations on the Rotation of the Planets on their Axes, made with a View to decide whether the Daily Rotation of the Earth be always the same. --On the Comet of 1781, afterwards called the _Georgium Sidus_. 

 1782. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Lxxii. --On the Parallax of the Fixed Stars. --Catalogue of Double Stars. --Description of a Lamp Micrometer, and the Method of using it. --Answers to the Doubts that might be raised to the high magnifying Powers used by Herschel. 

 1783. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Lxxiii. --Letter to Sir Joseph Banks on the Name to be given to the new Planet. --On the Diameter of the Georgium Sidus, followed by the Description of a Micrometer with luminous or dark Disks. --On the proper Motion of the Solar System, and the various Changes that have occurred among the Fixed Stars since the Time of Flamsteed. 

 1784. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Lxxiv. --On some remarkable Appearances in the Polar Regions of Mars, the Inclination of its Axis, the Position of its Poles, and its Spheroïdal Form. --Some Details on the real Diameter of Mars, and on its Atmosphere. --Analysis of some Observations on the Constitution of the Heavens. 

 1785. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Lxxv. --Catalogue of Double Stars. --On the Constitution of the Heavens. 

 1786. _Phil Trans. _, vol. , lxxvi. --Catalogue of a Thousand Nebulæ and Clusters of Stars. --Researches on the Cause of a Defect of Definition in Vision, which has been attributed to the Smallness of the Optic Pencils. 

 1787. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Lxxvii. --Remarks on the new Comet. --Discovery of Two Satellites revolving round George's Planet. --On Three Volcanoes in the Moon. 

 1788. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Lxxviii. --On George's Planet (Uranus) and its Satellites. 

 1789. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Lxxix. --Observations on a Comet. Catalogue of a Second Thousand new Nebulæ and Clusters of Stars. --Some Preliminary Remarks on the Constitution of the Heavens. 

 1790. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Lxxx. --Discovery of Saturn's Sixth and Seventh Satellites; with Remarks on the Constitution of the Ring, on the Planet's Rotation round an Axis, on its Spheroïdal Form, and on its Atmosphere. --On Saturn's Satellites, and the Rotation of the Ring round an Axis. 

 1791. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Lxxxi. --On the Nebulous Stars and the Suitableness of this Epithet. 

 1792. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Lxxxii. --On Saturn's Ring, and the Rotation of the Planet's Fifth Satellite round an Axis. --Mixed Observations. 

 1793. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Lxxxiii. --Observations on the Planet Venus. 

 1794. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Lxxxiv. --Observations on a Quintuple Band in Saturn. --On some Peculiarities observed during the last Solar Eclipse. --On Saturn's Rotation round an Axis. 

 1795. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Lxxxv. --On the Nature and Physical Constitution of the Sun and Stars. --Description of a Reflecting Telescope forty feet in length. 

 1796. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Lxxxvi. --Method of observing the Changes that happen to the Fixed Stars; Remarks on the Stability of our Sun's Light. --Catalogue of Comparative Brightness, to determine the Permanency of the Lustre of Stars. --On the Periodical Star _a_ Herculis, with Remarks tending to establish the Rotatory Motion of the Stars on their Axes; to which is added a second Catalogue of the Brightness of the Stars. 

 1797. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Lxxxvii. --A Third Catalogue of the comparative Brightness of the Stars; with an Introductory Account of an Index to Mr. Flamsteed's Observations of the Fixed Stars, contained in the Second Volume of the Historia Coelestis to which are added several useful Results derived from that Index. --Observations of the changeable Brightness of the Satellites of Jupiter, and of the Variation in their apparent Magnitudes; with a Determination of the Time of their rotary Motions on their Axes, to which is added a Measure of the Diameter of the Second Satellite, and an Estimate of the comparative Size of the Fourth. 

 1798. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Lxxxviii. --On the Discovery of Four additional Satellites of the Georgium Sidus. The retrograde Motion of its old Satellites announced; and the Cause of their Disappearance at certain Distances from the Planet explained. 

 1799. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Lxxxix. --A Fourth Catalogue of the comparative Brightness of the Stars. 

 1800. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Xc. --On the Power of penetrating into Space by Telescopes, with a comparative Determination of the Extent of that Power in Natural Vision, and in Telescopes of various Sizes and Constructions; illustrated by select Observations. --Investigation of the Powers of the Prismatic Colours to heat and illuminate Objects; with Remarks that prove the different Refrangibility of radiant Heat; to which is added an Inquiry into the Method of viewing the Sun advantageously with Telescopes of large Apertures and high magnifying Powers. --Experiments on the Refrangibility of the Invisible Rays of the Sun. --Experiments on the Solar and on the Terrestrial Rays that occasion Heat; with a comparative View of the Laws to which Light and Heat, or rather the Rays which occasion them, are subject, in order to determine whether they are the same or different. 

 1801. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Xci. --Observations tending to investigate the Nature of the Sun, in order to find the Causes or Symptoms of its variable Emission of Light and Heat; with Remarks on the Use that may possibly be drawn from Solar Observations. --Additional Observations tending to investigate the Symptoms of the variable Emission of the Light and Heat of the Sun; with Trials to set aside darkening Glasses, by transmitting the Solar Rays through Liquids, and a few Remarks to remove Objections that might be made against some of the Arguments contained in the former paper. 

 1802. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Xcii. --Observations on the two lately discovered celestial Bodies (Ceres and Pallas). --Catalogue of 500 new Nebulæ and Clusters of Stars, with Remarks on the Construction of the Heavens. 

 1803. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Xciii. --Observations of the Transit of Mercury over the Disk of the Sun; to which is added an Investigation of the Causes which often prevent the proper Action of Mirrors. --Account of the Changes that have happened during the last Twenty-five Years in the relative Situation of Double Stars; with an Investigation of the Cause to which they are owing. 

 1804. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Xciv. --Continuation of an Account of the Changes that have happened in the relative Situation of Double Stars. 

 1805. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Xcv. --Experiments for ascertaining how far Telescopes will enable us to determine very small Angles, and to distinguish the real from the spurious Diameters of Celestial and Terrestrial Objects: with an Application of the Result of these Experiments to a Series of Observations on the Nature and Magnitude of Mr. Harding's lately discovered Star. --On the Direction and Velocity of the Motion of the Sun and Solar System. --Observation on the singular Figure of the Planet Saturn. 

 1806. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Xcvi. --On the Quantity and Velocity of the Solar Motion. --Observations on the Figure, the Climate, and the Atmosphere of Saturn and its Ring. 

 1807. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Xcvii. --Experiments for investigating the Cause of the Coloured Concentric Rings, discovered by Sir Isaac Newton between two Object-glasses laid one upon another. --Observations on the Nature of the new celestial Body discovered by Dr. Olbers, and of the Comet which was expected to appear last January in its Return from the Sun. 

 1808. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Xcviii. --Observations of a Comet, made with a view to investigate its Magnitude, and the Nature of its Illumination. To which is added, an Account of a new Irregularity lately perceived in the Apparent Figure of the Planet Saturn. 

 1809. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Xcix. --Continuation of Experiments for investigating the Cause of Coloured Concentric Rings, and other Appearances of a similar Nature. 

 1810. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. C. --Supplement to the First and Second Part of the Paper of Experiments for investigating the Cause of Coloured Concentric Rings between Object-glasses, and other Appearances of a similar Nature. 

 1811. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Ci. --Astronomical Observations relating to the Construction of the Heavens, arranged for the Purpose of a critical Examination, the Result of which appears to throw some new Light upon the Organization of the Celestial Bodies. 

 1812. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Cii. --Observations of a Comet, with Remarks on the Construction of its different Parts. --Observations of a Second Comet, with Remarks on its Construction. 

 1814. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Civ. --Astronomical Observations relating to the Sidereal Part of the Heavens, and its Connection with the Nebulous Part; arranged for the Purpose of a critical Examination. 

 1815. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Cv. --A Series of Observations of the Satellites of the Georgian Planet, including a Passage through the Node of their Orbits; with an Introductory Account of the Telescopic Apparatus that has been used on this Occasion, and a final Exposition of some calculated Particulars deduced from the Observations. 

 1817. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Cvii. --Astronomical Observations and Experiments tending to investigate the Local Arrangement of the Celestial Bodies in Space, and to determine the Extent and Condition of the Milky Way. 

 1818. _Phil. Trans. _, vol. Cviii. --Astronomical Observations and Experiments selected for the Purpose of ascertaining the relative Distances of Clusters of Stars, and of investigating how far the Power of Telescopes may be expected to reach into Space, when directed to ambiguous Celestial Objects. 

 1822. _Memoirs of the Astronomical Society of London. _--On the Positions of 145 new Double Stars. 

The chronological and detailed analysis of so many labours would throwus into numerous repetitions. A systematic order will be preferable; itwill more distinctly fix the eminent place that Herschel will nevercease to occupy in the small group of our contemporary men of genius, whilst his name will reëcho to the most distant posterity. The varietyand splendour of Herschel's labours vie with their extent. The more westudy them, the more we must admire them. It is with great men, as it iswith great movements in the arts, we cannot understand them withoutstudying them under various points of view. 

Let us here again make a general reflection. The memoirs of Herschelare, for the greater part, pure and simple extracts from hisinexhaustible journals of observations at Slough, accompanied by a fewremarks. Such a table would not suit historical details. In theserespects the author has left almost every thing to his biographers to dofor him. And they must impose on themselves the task of assigning to thegreat astronomer's predecessors the portion that legitimately belongs tothem, out of the mass of discoveries, which the public (we must say) hasgot into an erroneous habit of referring too exclusively to Herschel. 

At one time I thought of adding a note to the analysis of each of theillustrious observer's memoirs, containing a detailed indication of theimprovements or corrections that the progressive march of science hasbrought on. But in order to avoid an exorbitant length in thisbiography, I have been obliged to give up my project. In general I shallcontent myself with pointing out what belongs to Herschel, referring tomy _Treatise on Popular Astronomy_ for the historical details. The lifeof Herschel had the rare advantage of forming an epoch in an extensivebranch of astronomy; it would require us almost to write a specialtreatise on astronomy, to show thoroughly the importance of all theresearches that are due to him. 

FOOTNOTE:

[17] These titles are copied direct from the PhilosophicalTransactions, instead of being retranslated. --_Translator'sNote_. 

IMPROVEMENTS IN THE MEANS OF OBSERVATION. 

The improvements that Herschel made in the construction and managementof telescopes have contributed so directly to the discoveries with whichthat observer enriched astronomy, that we cannot hesitate to bring themforward at once. 

I read the following passage in a Memoir by Lalande, printed in 1783, and forming part of the preface to vol. Viii. Of the _Ephemerides of theCelestial Motions_. 

"Each time that Herschel undertakes to polish a mirror (of a telescope), he condemns himself to ten, or twelve, or even fourteen hours' constantwork. He does not quit his workshop for a minute, not even to eat, butreceives from the hands of his sister that nourishment without which onecould not undergo such prolonged fatigue. Nothing in the world wouldinduce Herschel to abandon his work; for, according to him, it would beto spoil it. "

The advantages that Herschel found in 1783, 1784, and 1785, inemploying telescopes of twenty feet and with large apertures, made himwish to construct much larger still. The expense would be considerable;King George III. Provided for it. The work, begun about the close of1785, was finished in August, 1789. This instrument had an ironcylindrical tube, thirty-nine feet four inches English in length, andfour feet ten inches in diameter. Such dimensions are enormous comparedwith those of telescopes made till then. They will appear but small, however, to persons who have heard the report of a pretended ball givenin the Slough telescope. The propagators of this popular rumour hadconfounded the astronomer Herschel with the brewer Meux, and a cylinderin which a man of the smallest stature could scarcely stand upright, with certain wooden vats, as large as a house, in which beer is made andkept in London. 

Herschel's telescope, forty English feet[18] in length, allowed of therealization of an idea, the advantages of which would not besufficiently appreciated if I did not here recall to mind some facts. 

In any telescope, whether refracting or reflecting, there are twoprincipal parts: the part that forms the aërial images of the distantobjects, and the small lens by the aid of which these images areenlarged just as if they consisted of radiating matter. When the imageis produced by means of a lenticular glass, the place it occupies willbe found in the prolongation of the line that extends from the object tothe centre of the lens. The astronomer, furnished with an eye-piece, andwishing to examine that image, must necessarily place himself _beyond_the point where the rays that form it have crossed each other; _beyond_, let us carefully remark, means _farther off_ from the object-glass. Theobserver's head, his body, cannot then injure the formation or thebrightness of the image, however small may be the distance from which wehave to study it. But it is no longer thus with the image formed bymeans of reflection. For the image is now placed between the object andthe reflecting mirror; and when the astronomer approaches in order toexamine it, he inevitably intercepts, if not the totality, at least avery considerable portion of the luminous rays, which would otherwisehave contributed to give it great splendour. It will now be understood, why in optical instruments where the images of distant objects areformed by the reflection of light, it has been necessary to carry theimages, by the aid of a second reflection, out of the tube that containsand sustains the principal mirror. When the small mirror, on the surfaceof which the second reflection is effected, is plane, and inclined at anangle of 45° to the axis of the telescope; when the image is reflectedlaterally, through an opening made near the edge of the tube andfurnished with an eye-piece; when, in a word, the astronomer looksdefinitively in a direction perpendicular to the line described by theluminous rays coming from the object and falling on the centre of thegreat mirror, then the telescope is called _Newtonian_. But in the_Gregorian_ telescope, the image formed by the principal mirror falls ona second mirror, which is very small, slightly curved, and parallel tothe first. The small mirror reflects the first image and throws itbeyond the large mirror, through an opening made in the middle of thatprincipal mirror. 

Both in the one and in the other of these two telescopes, the smallmirror interposed between the object and the great mirror forms relativeto the latter a sort of screen which prevents its entire surface fromcontributing towards forming the image. The small mirror, also, inregard to intensity, gives some trouble. 

Let us suppose, in order to clear up our ideas, that the material ofwhich the two mirrors are made, reflects only half of the incidentlight. In the course of the first reflection, the immense quantity ofrays that the aperture of the telescope had received, may be consideredas reduced to half. Nor is the diminution less on the small mirror. Now, half of half is a quarter. Therefore the instrument will send to the eyeof the observer only a quarter of the incident light that its aperturehad received. These two causes of diminished light not existing in arefracting telescope, it would give, under parity of dimensions, fourtimes more[19] light than a Newtonian or Gregorian telescope gives. 

Herschel did away with the small mirror in his large telescope. Thelarge mirror is not mathematically centred in the large tube thatcontains it, but is placed rather obliquely in it. This slight obliquitycauses the images to be formed not in the axis of the tube, but verynear its circumference, or outer mouth, we may call it. The observer maytherefore look at them there direct, merely by means of an eye-piece. Asmall portion of the astronomer's head, it is true, then encroaches onthe tube; it forms a screen, and interrupts some incident rays. Still, in a large telescope, the loss does not amount to half by a great deal;which it would inevitably do if the small mirror were there. 

Those telescopes, in which the observer, placed at the anteriorextremity of the tube, looks direct into the tube and turns his back tothe objects, were called by Herschel _front view telescopes_. In vol. Lxxvi. Of the _Philosophical Transactions_ he says, that the idea ofthis construction occurred to him in 1776, and that he then applied itunsuccessfully to a ten-foot telescope; that during the year 1784, heagain made a fruitless trial of it in a twenty-foot telescope. Yet Ifind that on the 7th of September 1784, he recurred to a _front view_ inobserving some nebulæ and groups of stars. However discordant thesedates may be, we cannot without injustice neglect to remark, that afront view telescope was already described in 1732, in volume vi. Of thecollection entitled _Machines and Inventions approved by the Academy ofSciences_. The author of this innovation is Jaques Lemaire, who has beenunduly confounded with the English Jesuit, Christopher Maire, assistantto Boscovitch, in measuring the meridian comprised between Rome andRimini. Jaques Lemaire having only telescopes of moderate dimensions inview, was obliged, in order not to sacrifice any of the light, to placethe great mirror so obliquely, that the image formed by its surfaceshould fall entirely outside the tube of the instrument. So great adegree of inclination would certainly deform the objects. The _frontview_ construction is admissible only in very large telescopes. 

I find in the _Transactions_ for 1803, that in solar observations, Herschel sometimes employed telescopes, the great mirror of which wasmade of glass. It was a telescope of this sort that he used forobserving the transit of Mercury on the 9th of November, 1802. It wasseven English feet long, and six inches and three tenths in diameter. 

Practical astronomers know how much the mounting of a telescopecontributes to produce correct observations. The difficulty of a solidyet very movable mounting, increases rapidly with the dimensions andweight of an instrument. We may then conceive that Herschel had tosurmount many obstacles, to mount a telescope suitably, of which themirror alone weighed upwards of 1000 kilogrammes (_a ton_). But hesolved this problem to his entire satisfaction by the aid of acombination of spars, of pulleys, and of ropes, of all which a correctidea may be formed by referring to the woodcut we have given in our_Treatise on Popular Astronomy_ (vol. I. ). This great apparatus, and theentirely different stands that Herschel imagined for telescopes ofsmaller dimensions, assign to that illustrious observer a distinguishedplace amongst the most ingenious mechanics of our age. 

Persons in general, I may even say the greater part of astronomers, knownot what was the effect that the great forty-foot telescope had in thelabours and discoveries of Herschel. Still, we are not less mistakenwhen we fancy that the observer of Slough always used this telescope, than in maintaining with Baron von Zach (see _Monatliche Correspondenz_, January, 1802), that the colossal instrument was of no use at all, thatit did not contribute to any one discovery, that it must be consideredas a mere object of curiosity. These assertions are distinctlycontradicted by Herschel's own words. In the volume of _PhilosophicalTransactions_ for the year 1795 (p. 350), I read for example: "On the28th of August 1789, having directed my telescope (of forty feet) to theheavens, I discovered the sixth satellite of Saturn, and I perceived thespots on that planet, better than I had been able to do before. " (Seealso, relative to this sixth satellite, the _PhilosophicalTransactions_ for 1790, p. 10. ) In that same volume of 1790, p. 11, Ifind: "The great light of my forty-foot telescope was then so useful, that on the 17th of September 1789, I remarked the seventh satellite, then situated at its greatest western elongation. "

The 10th of October, 1791, Herschel saw the ring of Saturn and thefourth satellite, looking in at the mirror of his forty-foot telescope, with his naked eye, without any sort of eye-piece. 

Let us acknowledge the true motives that prevented Herschel from oftenerusing his telescope of forty feet. Notwithstanding the excellence of themechanism, the manoeuvring of that instrument required the constantaid of two labourers, and that of another person charged with noting thetime at the clock. During some nights when the variation of temperaturewas considerable, this telescope, on account of its great mass, wasalways behindhand with the atmosphere in thermometric changes, which wasvery injurious to the distinctness of the images. 

Herschel found that in England, there are not above a hundred hours in ayear during which the heavens can be advantageously observed with atelescope of forty feet, furnished with a magnifying power of athousand. This remark led the celebrated astronomer to the conclusion, that, to take a complete survey of the heavens with his largeinstrument, though each successive field should remain only for aninstant under inspection, would not require less than eight hundredyears. 

Herschel explains in a very natural way the rare occurrence of thecircumstances in which it is possible to make good use of a telescope offorty feet, and of very large aperture. 

A telescope does not magnify real objects only, but magnifies also theapparent irregularities arising from atmospheric refractions; now, allother things being equal, these irregularities of refraction must be somuch the stronger, so much the more frequent, as the stratum of air isthicker through which the rays have passed to go and form the image. 

Astronomers experienced extreme surprise, when in 1782, they learnedthat Herschel had applied linear magnifying powers of a thousand, oftwelve hundred, of two thousand two hundred, of two thousand sixhundred, and even of six thousand times, to a reflecting telescope ofseven feet in length. The Royal Society of London experienced thissurprise, and officially requested Herschel to give publicity to themeans he had adopted for ascertaining such amounts of magnifying powerin his telescopes. Such was the object of a memoir that he inserted invol. Lxxii. Of the _Philosophical Transactions_; and it dissipated alldoubts. No one will be surprised that magnifying powers, which it wouldseem ought to have shown the Lunar mountains, as the chain of Mont Blancis seen from Maçon, from Lyons, and even from Geneva, were not easilybelieved in. They did not know that Herschel had never used magnifyingpowers of three thousand, and six thousand times, except in observingbrilliant stars; they had not remembered that light reflected byplanetary bodies, is too feeble to continue distinct under the samedegree of magnifying power as the actual light of the fixed stars does. 

Opticians had given up, more from theory than from careful experiments, attempting high magnifying powers, even for reflecting telescopes. Theythought that the image of a small circle cannot be distinct, cannot besharp at the edges, unless the pencil of rays coming from the object innearly parallel lines, and which enters the eye after having passedthrough the eye-piece, be sufficiently broad. This being once granted, the inference followed, that an image ceases to be well defined, when itdoes not strike at least two of the nervous filaments of the retina withwhich that organ is supposed to be overspread. These gratuitouscircumstances, grafted on each other, vanished in presence of Herschel'sobservations. After having put himself on his guard against the effectsof diffraction, that is to say, against the scattering that lightundergoes when it passes the terminal angles of bodies, the illustriousastronomer proved, in 1786, that objects can be seen well defined bymeans of pencils of light whose diameter does not equal five tenths of amillimetre. 

Herschel looked on the almost unanimous opinion of the double lenseye-piece being preferable to the single lens eye-piece, as a veryinjurious prejudice in science. For experience proved to him, notwithstanding all theoretic deductions, that with equal magnifyingpowers, in reflecting telescopes at least (and this restriction is ofsome consequence), the images were brighter and better defined withsingle than with double eye-pieces. On one occasion, this lattereye-piece would not show him the bands of Saturn, whilst by the aid of asingle lens they were perfectly visible. Herschel said: "The doubleeye-piece must be left to amateurs and to those who, for some particularobject, require a large field of vision. " (_Philosophical Transactions, 1782, pages 94 and 95. _)

It is not only relative to the comparative merit of single or doubleeye-pieces that Herschel differs from the general opinions of opticians;he thinks, moreover, that he has proved by decisive experiments, thatconcave eye-pieces (like that used by Galileo) surpass the convexeye-piece by a great deal, both as regards clearness and definition. 

Herschel assigns the date of 1776 to the experiments which he made todecide this question. (_Philosophical Transactions_, year 1815, p. 297. )Plano-concave and double concave lenses produced similar effects. Inwhat did these lenses differ from the double convex lenses? In oneparticular only: the latter received the rays reflected by the largemirror of the telescope, after their union at the focus, whereas theconcave lenses received the same rays before that union. When theobserver made use of a convex lens, the rays that went to the back ofthe eye to form an image on the retina, had crossed each other before inthe air; but no crossing of this kind took place when the observer useda concave lens. Holding the double advantage of this latter sort of lensover the other, as quite proved, one would be inclined, like Herschel, to admit, "that a certain mechanical effect, injurious to clearness anddefinition, would accompany the focal crossing of the rays oflight. "[20]

This idea of the crossing of the rays suggested an experiment to theingenious astronomer, the result of which deserves to be recorded. 

A telescope of ten English feet was directed towards an advertisementcovered with very small printing, and placed at a sufficient distance. The convex lens of the eye-piece was carried not by a tube properly socalled, but by four rigid fine wires placed at right angles. Thisarrangement left the focus open in almost every direction. A concavemirror was then placed so that it threw a very condensed image of thesun laterally on the very spot where the image of the advertisement wasformed. The solar rays, after having crossed each other, finding nothingon their route, went on and lost themselves in space. A screen, however, allowed the rays to be intercepted at will before they united. 

This done, having applied the eye to the eye-piece and directed all hisattention to the telescopic image of the advertisement, Herschel did notperceive that the taking away and then replacing the screen made theleast change in the brightness or definition of the letters. It wastherefore of no consequence, in the one instance as well as in theother, whether the immense quantity of solar rays crossed each other atthe very place where, _in another direction_, the rays united thatformed the image of the letters. I have marked in Italics the words thatespecially show in what this curious experiment differs from theprevious experiments, and yet does not entirely contradict them. In thisinstance the rays of various origin, those coming from the advertisementand from the sun, crossed each other respectively in almost rectangulardirections; during the comparative examination of the stars with convexand with concave eye-pieces, the rays that seemed to have a mutualinfluence, had a common origin and crossed each other at very acuteangles. There seems to be nothing, then, in the difference of theresults at which we need to be much surprised. 

Herschel increased the catalogue, already so extensive, of the mysteriesof vision, when he explained in what manner we must endeavour todistinguish separately the two members of certain double stars veryclose to each other. He said if you wish to assure yourself that _ê_Coronæ is a double star, first direct your telescope to _a_ Geminorum, to _z_ Aquarii, to _m_ Draconis, to _r_ Herculis, to _a_ Piscium, to _e_Lyræ. Look at those stars for a long time, so as to acquire the habit ofobserving such objects. Then pass on to _x_ Ursæ majoris, where thecloseness of the two members is still greater. In a third essay select_i_ Bootis (marked 44 by Flamsteed and _i_ in Harris's maps)[21], thestar that precedes _a_ Orionis, _n_ of the same constellation, and youwill then be prepared for the more difficult observation of _ê_ Coronæ. Indeed _ê_ Coronæ is a sort of miniature of _i_ Bootis, which may itselfbe considered as a miniature of _a_ Gem. (_Philosophical Transactions_, 1782, p. 100. )

As soon as Piazzi, Olbers, and Harding had discovered three of thenumerous telescopic planets now known, Herschel proposed to himself todetermine their real magnitudes; but telescopes not having then beenapplied to the measurement of excessively small angles, it becamerequisite, in order to avoid any illusion, to try some experimentsadapted to giving a scale of the powers of those instruments. Such wasthe labour of that indefatigable astronomer, of which I am going to givea compressed abridgment. 

The author relates first, that in 1774, he endeavoured to ascertainexperimentally, with the naked eye and at the distance of distinctvision, what angle a circle must subtend to be distinguished by its formfrom a square of similar dimensions. The angle was never smaller than 2'17"; therefore at its maximum it was about one fourteenth of the anglesubtended by the diameter of the moon. 

Herschel did not say, either of what nature the circles and squares ofpaper were that he used, nor on what background they were projected. Itis a lacuna to be regretted, for in those phenomena the intensity oflight must be an important feature. However it may have been, thescrupulous observer not daring to extend to telescopic vision what hehad discovered relative to vision with the naked eye, he undertook to doaway with all doubt, by direct observations. 

On examining some pins' heads placed at a distance in the open air, witha three-foot telescope, Herschel could easily discern that those bodieswere round, when the subtended angles became, after their enlargement, 2' 19". This is almost exactly the result obtained with the naked eye. 

When the globules were darker; when, instead of pins' heads, smallglobules of sealing-wax were used, their spherical form did not begin tobe distinctly visible till the moment when the subtended magnifiedangles, that is, the moment when the natural angle multiplied by themagnifying power, amounted to five minutes. 

In a subsequent series of experiments, some globules of silver placedvery far from the observer, allowed their globular form to be perceived, even when the magnified angle remained below two minutes. 

Under equality of subtended angle, then, the telescopic vision withstrong magnifying powers showed itself superior to the naked eye vision. This result is not unimportant. 

If we take notice of the magnifying powers used by Herschel in theselaborious researches, powers that often exceeded five hundred times, itwill appear to be established that the telescopes possessed by modernastronomers, may serve to verify the round form of distant objects, theform of celestial bodies even when the diameters of those bodies do notsubtend naturally (to the naked eye), angles of above three tenths of asecond: and 500, multiplied by three tenths of a second, give 2' 30". 

Refracting telescopes were still ill understood instruments, the resultof chance, devoid of certain theory, when they already served to revealbrilliant astronomical phenomena. Their theory, in as far as it dependedon geometry and optics, made rapid progress. These two early phases ofthe problem leave but little more to be wished for; it is not so with athird phase, hitherto a good deal neglected, connected with physiology, and with the action of light on the nervous system. Therefore, we shouldsearch in vain in old treatises on optics and on astronomy, for a strictand complete discussion on the comparative effect that the size andintensity of the images, that the magnifying power and the aperture of atelescope may have, by night and by day, on the visibility of thefaintest stars. This lacuna Herschel tried to fill up in 1799; such wasthe aim of the memoir entitled, _On the space-penetrating Power ofTelescopes_. 

This memoir contains excellent things; still, it is far from exhaustingthe subject. The author, for instance, entirely overlooks theobservations made by day. I also find, that the hypothetical part ofthe discussion is not perhaps so distinctly separated from the rigorouspart as it might be; that disputable numbers, though given with a degreeof precision down to the smallest decimals, do not look well as terms ofcomparison with some results which; on the contrary, rest onobservations bearing mathematical evidence. 

Whatever may be thought of these remarks, the astronomer or thephysicist who would like again to undertake the question of visibilitywith telescopes, will find some important facts in Herschel's memoir, and some ingenious observations, well adapted to serve them as guides. 

FOOTNOTES:

[18] Conforming to general usage, and to Sir W. Herschel himself, weshall allude to this instrument as the _forty-foot_ telescope, though M. Arago adheres to thirty-nine feet and drops the inches, probably becausethe Parisian foot is rather longer than the English. --_Translator'sNote_. 

[19] It would be more correct to say four times _as much_light. --_Translator_. 

[20] On comparing the Cassegrain telescopes with a small convex mirror, to the Gregorian telescopes with a small concave mirror, Captain Katerfound that the former, in which the luminous rays do not cross eachother before falling on the small mirror, possess, as to intensity, amarked advantage over the latter, in which this crossing takes place. 

[21] In the selection of _i_ Bootis as a test, Arago has taken theprecaution of giving its corresponding denomination in other catalogues, and Bailey appends the following note, No. 2062, to 44 Bootis. "In theBritish Catalogue this star is not denoted by any letter: but Bayercalls it _i_, and on referring to the earliest MS. Catalogue in MSS. Vol. Xxv. , I find it is there so designated; I have therefore restoredthe letter. " (See Bailey's Edition of Flamsteed's British Catalogue ofStars, 1835. ) The distance between the two members of this double staris 3". 7 and position 23°. 5. See "Bedford Cycle. "--_Translator_. 

LABOURS IN SIDEREAL ASTRONOMY. 

The curious phenomenon of a periodical change of intensity in certainstars, very early excited a keen attention in Herschel. The first memoirby that illustrious observer presented to the Royal Society of Londonand inserted in the _Philosophical Transactions_ treats precisely of thechanges of intensity of the star _o_ in the neck of the Whale. 

This memoir was still dated from Bath, May, 1780. Eleven years after, inthe month of December, 1791, Herschel communicated a second time to thatcelebrated English Society the remarks that he had made by sometimesdirecting his telescopes to the mysterious star. At both those epochsthe observer's attention was chiefly applied to the absolute values ofthe _maxima_ and _minima_ of intensity. 

The changeable star in the Whale was not the only periodical star withwhich Herschel occupied himself. His observations of 1795 and of 1796proved that _a_ Herculis also belongs to the category of variable stars, and that the time requisite for the accomplishment of all the changesof intensity, and for the star's return to any given state, was sixtydays and a quarter. When Herschel obtained this result, about tenchangeable stars were already known; but they were all either of verylong or very short periods. The illustrious astronomer considered that, by introducing between two groups that exhibited very short and verylong periods, a star of somewhat intermediate conditions, --for instance, one requiring sixty days to accomplish all its variations ofintensity, --he had advanced the theory of these phenomena by anessential step; the theory at least that attributes every thing to amovement of rotation round their centres which the stars may undergo. 

Sir William Herschel's catalogues of double stars offer a considerablenumber to which he ascribes a decided green or blue tint. In binarycombinations, when the small star appears very blue or very green, thelarge one is usually yellow or red. It does not appear that the greatastronomer took sufficient interest in this circumstance. I do not find, indeed, that the almost constant association of two complementarycolours (of yellow and blue, or of red and green), ever led him tosuspect that one of those colours might not have any thing real in it, that it often might be a mere illusion, a mere result of contrast. Itwas only in 1825, that I showed that there are stars whose contrastreally explains their apparent colour; but I have proved besides, thatblue is incontestably the colour of certain insulated stars, or starsthat have only white ones, or other blue ones in their vicinity. Red isthe only colour that the ancients ever distinguished from white in theircatalogues. 

Herschel also endeavoured to introduce numbers in the classification ofstars as to magnitude; he has endeavoured, by means of numbers, to showthe comparative intensity of a star of first magnitude, with one ofsecond, or one of third magnitude, &c. 

In one of the earliest of Herschel's memoirs, we find, that the apparentsidereal diameters are proved to be for the greater part factitious, even when the best made telescopes are used. Diameters estimated byseconds, that is to say, reduced according to the magnifying power, diminish as the magnifying power is increased. These results are of thegreatest importance. 

In the course of his investigation of sidereal parallax, though withoutfinding it, Herschel made an important discovery; that of the propermotion of our system. To show distinctly the direction of the motion ofthe solar system, not only was a displacement of the siderealperspective required, but profound mathematical knowledge, and apeculiar tact. This peculiar tact Herschel possessed in an eminentdegree. Moreover, the result deduced from the very small number ofproper motions known at the beginning of 1783, has been found almost toagree with that found recently by clever astronomers, by the applicationof subtile analytical formulæ, to a considerable number of exactobservations. 

The proper motions of the stars have been known and proved for more thana century, and already Fontenelle used to say in 1738, that the sunprobably also moved in a similar way. The idea of partly attributing thedisplacement of the stars to a motion of the sun, had suggested itselfto Bradley and to Mayer. And Lambert especially had been very expliciton the subject. Until then, however, there were only conjectures andmere probabilities. Herschel passed those limits. He himself provedthat the sun positively moves; and that, in this respect also, thatimmense and dazzling body must be ranged among the stars; that theapparently inextricable irregularities of numerous sidereal propermotions arise in great measure from the displacement of the solarsystem; that, in short, the point of space towards which we are annuallyadvancing, is situated in the constellation of Hercules. 

These are magnificent results. The discovery of the proper motion of oursystem will always be accounted among Herschel's highest claims toglory, even after the mention that my duty as historian has obliged meto make of the anterior conjectures by Fontenelle, by Bradley, by Mayer, and by Lambert. 

By the side of this great discovery we should place another, that seemslikely to expand in future. The results which it allows us to hope forwill be of extreme importance. The discovery here alluded to wasannounced to the learned world in 1803; it is that of the reciprocaldependence of several stars, connected the one with the other, as theseveral planets and their satellites of our system are with the sun. 

Let us to these immortal labours add the ingenious ideas that we owe toHerschel on the nebulæ, on the constitution of the Milky-way, on theuniverse as a whole; ideas which almost by themselves constitute theactual history of the formation of the worlds, and we cannot but have adeep reverence for that powerful genius that has scarcely ever erred, notwithstanding an ardent imagination. 

LABOURS RELATIVE TO THE SOLAR SYSTEM. 

Herschel occupied himself very much with the sun, but only relative toits physical constitution. The observations that the illustriousastronomer made on this subject, the consequences that he deduced fromthem, equal the most ingenious discoveries for which the sciences areindebted to him. 

In his important memoir in 1795, the great astronomer declares himselfconvinced that the substance by the intermediation of which the sunshines, cannot be either a liquid, or an elastic fluid. It must beanalogous to our clouds, and float in the transparent atmosphere of thatbody. The sun has, according to him, two atmospheres, endowed withmotions quite independent of each other. An elastic fluid of an unknownnature is being constantly formed on the dark surface of the sun, andrising up on account of its specific lightness, it forms the _pores_ inthe stratum of reflecting clouds; then, combining with other gases, itproduces the wrinkles in the region of luminous clouds. When theascending currents are powerful, they give rise to the _nuclei_, to the_penumbræ_, to the _faculæ_. If this explanation of the formation ofsolar spots is well founded, we must expect to find that the sun doesnot constantly emit similar quantities of light and heat. Recentobservations have verified this conclusion. But large nuclei, largepenumbræ, wrinkles, faculæ, do they indicate an abundant luminous andcalorific emission, as Herschel thought; that would be the result of hishypothesis on the existence of very active ascending currents, butdirect experience seems to contradict it. 

The following is the way in which a learned man, Sir David Brewster, appreciates this view of Herschel's: "It is not conceivable thatluminous clouds, ceding to the lightest impulses and in a state ofconstant change, can be the source of the sun's devouring flame and ofthe dazzling light which it emits; nor can we admit besides, that thefeeble barrier formed by planetary clouds would shelter the objects thatit might cover, from the destructive effects of the superior elements. "

Sir D. Brewster imagines that the non-luminous rays of caloric, whichform a constituent part of the solar light, are emitted by the darknucleus of the sun; whilst the visible coloured rays proceed from theluminous matter by which the nucleus is surrounded. "From thence, " hesays, "proceeds the reason of light and heat always appearing in a stateof combination: the one emanation cannot be obtained without the other. With this hypothesis we should explain naturally why it is hottest whenthere are most spots, because the heat of the nucleus would then reachus without having been weakened by the atmosphere that it usually has totraverse. " But it is far from being an ascertained fact, that weexperience increased heat during the apparition of solar spots; theinverse phenomenon is more probably true. 

Herschel occupied himself also with the physical constitution of themoon. In 1780, he sought to measure the height of our satellite'smountains. The conclusion that he drew from his observations was, thatfew of the lunar mountains exceed 800 metres (or 2600 feet). More recentselenographic studies differ from this conclusion. There is reason toobserve on this occasion how much the result surmised by Herscheldiffers from any tendency to the extraordinary or the gigantic, thathas been so unjustly assigned as the characteristic of the illustriousastronomer. 

At the close of 1787, Herschel presented a memoir to the Royal Society, the title of which must have made a strong impression on people'simaginations. The author therein relates that on the 19th of April, 1787, he had observed in the non-illuminated part of the moon, that is, in the then dark portion, three volcanoes in a state of ignition. Two ofthese volcanoes appeared to be on the decline, the other appeared to beactive. Such was then Herschel's conviction of the reality of thephenomenon, that the next morning he wrote thus of his firstobservation: "The volcano burns with more violence than last night. " Thereal diameter of the volcanic light was 5000 metres (16, 400 Englishfeet). Its intensity appeared very superior to that of the nucleus of acomet then in apparition. The observer added: "The objects situated nearthe crater are feebly illuminated by the light that emanates from it. "Herschel concludes thus: "In short, this eruption very much resemblesthe one I witnessed on the 4th of May, 1783. "

How happens it, after such exact observations, that few astronomers nowadmit the existence of active volcanoes in the moon? I will explain thissingularity in a few words. 

The various parts of our satellite are not all equally reflecting. Here, it may depend on the form, elsewhere, on the nature of the materials. Those persons who have examined the moon with telescopes, know how veryconsiderable the difference arising from these two causes may be, howmuch brighter one point of the moon sometimes is than those around it. Now, it is quite evident that the relations of intensity between thefaint parts and the brilliant parts must continue to exist, whatever bethe origin of the illuminating light. In the portion of the lunar globethat is illuminated by the sun, there are, everybody knows, some points, the brightness of which is extraordinary compared to those around them;those same points, when they are seen in that portion of the moon thatis only lighted by the earth, or in the ash-coloured part, will stillpredominate over the neighbouring regions by their comparativeintensity. Thus we may explain the observations of the Sloughastronomer, without recurring to volcanoes. Whilst the great observerwas studying in the non-illuminated portion of the moon, the supposedvolcano of the 20th of April, 1787, his nine-foot telescope showed himin truth, by the aid of the secondary rays proceeding from the earth, even the darkest spots. 

Herschel did not recur to the discussion of the supposed actuallyburning lunar volcanoes, until 1791. In the volume of the _PhilosophicalTransactions_ for 1792, he relates that, in directing a twenty-foottelescope, magnifying 360 times, to the entirely eclipsed moon on the22d of October, 1790, there were visible, over the whole face of thesatellite, about a hundred and fifty very luminous red points. Theauthor declares that he will observe the greatest reserve relative tothe similarity of all these points, their great brightness, and theirremarkable colour. 

Yet is not red the usual colour of the moon when eclipsed, and when ithas not entirely disappeared? Could the solar rays reaching oursatellite by the effect of refraction, and after an absorptionexperienced in the lowest strata of the terrestrial atmosphere, receiveanother tint? Are there not in the moon, when freely illuminated, andopposite to the sun, from one to two hundred little points, remarkableby the brightness of their light? Would it be possible for those littlepoints not to be also distinguishable in the moon, when it receives onlythe portion of solar light which is refracted and coloured by ouratmosphere?

Herschel was more successful in his remarks on the absence of a lunaratmosphere. During the solar eclipse of the 5th September, 1793, theillustrious astronomer particularly directed his attention to the shapeof the acute horn resulting from the intersection of the limbs of themoon and of the sun. He deduced from his observation that if towards thepoint of the horn there had been a deviation of only one second, occasioned by the refraction of the solar light in the lunar atmosphere, it would not have escaped him. 

Herschel made the planets the object of numerous researches. Mercury wasthe one with which he least occupied himself; he found its diskperfectly round on observing it during its projection, that is to say, in astronomical language, during its transit over the sun on the 9th ofNovember, 1802. He sought to determine the time of the rotation of Venussince the year 1777. He published two memoirs relative to Mars, the onein 1781, the other in 1784, and the discovery of its being flattened atthe poles we owe to him. After the discovery of the small planets, Ceres, Pallas, Juno, and Vesta, by Piazzi, Olbers, and Harding, Herschelapplied himself to measuring their angular diameter. He concluded fromhis researches that those four new bodies did not deserve the name ofplanets, and he proposed to call them asteroïds. This epithet wassubsequently adopted; though bitterly criticized by a historian of theRoyal Society of London, Dr. Thomson, who went so far as to supposethat the learned astronomer "had wished to deprive the first observersof those bodies, of all idea of rating themselves as high as him(Herschel) in the scale of astronomical discoverers. " I should requirenothing farther to annihilate such an imputation, than to put it by theside of the following passage, extracted from a memoir by thiscelebrated astronomer, published in the _Philosophical Transactions_, for the year 1805: "The specific difference existing between planets andasteroïds appears now, by the addition of a third individual of thelatter species, to be more completely established, and thatcircumstance, in my opinion, has added more to the _ornament_ of oursystem than the discovery of a new planet could have done. "

Although much has not resulted from Herschel's having occupied himselfwith the physical constitution of Jupiter, astronomy is indebted to himfor several important results relative to the duration of that planet'srotation. He also made numerous observations on the intensities andcomparative magnitudes of its satellites. 

The compression of Saturn, the duration of its rotation, the physicalconstitution of this planet and that of its ring, were, on the part ofHerschel, the object of numerous researches which have much contributedto the progress of planetary astronomy. But on this subject twoimportant discoveries especially added new glory to the greatastronomer. 

Of the five known satellites of Saturn at the close of the 17th century, Huygens had discovered the fourth; Cassini the others. 

The subject seemed to be exhausted, when news from Slough showed what amistake this was. 

On the 28th of August, 1789, the great forty-foot telescope revealed toHerschel a satellite still nearer to the ring than the other fivealready observed. According to the principles of the nomenclaturepreviously adopted, the small body of the 28th August ought to have beencalled the first satellite of Saturn, the numbers indicating the placesof the other five would then have been each increased by a unity. Butthe fear of introducing confusion into science by these continualchanges of denomination, induced a preference for calling the newsatellite the sixth. 

Thanks to the prodigious powers of the forty-foot telescope, a lastsatellite, the seventh, showed itself on the 17th of September, 1789, between the sixth and the ring. 

This seventh satellite is extremely faint. Herschel, however, succeedingin seeing it whenever circumstances were very favourable, even by theaid of the twenty-foot telescope. 

The discovery of the planet Uranus, the detection of its satellites, will always occupy one of the highest places among those by which modernastronomy is honoured. 

On the 13th of March, 1781, between ten and eleven o'clock at night, Herschel was examining the small stars near H Geminorum with aseven-foot telescope, bearing a magnifying power of 227 times. One ofthese stars seemed to him to have an unusual diameter. The celebratedastronomer, therefore, thought it was a comet. It was under thisdenomination that it was then discussed at the Royal Society of London. But the researches of Herschel and of Laplace showed later that theorbit of the new body was nearly circular, and Uranus was elevated tothe rank of a planet. 

The immense distance of Uranus, its small angular diameter, thefeebleness of its light, did not allow the hope, that if that body hadsatellites, the magnitudes of which were, relatively to its own size, what the satellites of Jupiter, of Saturn are, compared to those twolarge planets, any observer could perceive them, from the earth. Herschel was not a man to be deterred by such discouraging conjectures. Therefore, since powerful telescopes of the ordinary construction, thatis to say, with two mirrors conjugated, had not enabled him to discoverany thing, he substituted, in the beginning of January, 1787, _frontview_ telescopes, that is, telescopes throwing much more light on theobjects, the small mirror being then suppressed, and with it one of thecauses of loss of light is got rid of. 

By patient labour, by observations requiring a rare perseverance, Herschel attained (from the 11th of January, 1787, to the 28th ofFebruary, 1794, ) to the discovery of the six satellites of his planet, and thus to complete the _world_ of a system that belongs entirely tohimself. 

There are several of Herschel's memoirs on comets. In analyzing them, weshall see that this great observer could not touch any thing withoutmaking further discoveries in the subject. 

Herschel applied some of his fine instruments to the study of thephysical constitution of a comet discovered by Mr. Pigott, on the 28thSeptember, 1807. 

The nucleus was round and well determined. Some measures taken on theday when the nucleus subtended only an angle of a single second, gave asits real angle 6/100 of the diameter of the earth. 

Herschel saw no phase at an epoch when only 7/10 of the nucleus couldbe illuminated by the sun. The nucleus then must shine by its own light. 

This is a legitimate inference in the opinion of every one who willallow, on one hand, that the nucleus is a solid body, and on the other, that it would have been possible to observe a phase of 8/10 on a diskwhose apparent total diameter did not exceed one or two seconds of adegree. 

Very small stars seemed to grow much paler when they were seen throughthe coma or through the tail of the comet. 

This faintness may have only been apparent, and might arise from thecircumstance of the stars being then projected on a luminous background. Such is, indeed, the explanation adopted by Herschel. A gaseous medium, capable of reflecting sufficient solar light to efface that of somestars, would appear to him to possess in each stratum a sensiblequantity of matter, and to be, for that reason, a cause of realdiminution of the light transmitted, though nothing reveals theexistence of such a cause. 

This argument, offered by Herschel in favour of the system whichtransforms comets into self-luminous bodies, has not, as we mayperceive, much force. I might venture to say as much of many otherremarks by this great observer. He tells us that the comet was veryvisible in the telescope on the 21st of February, 1808; now, on thatday, its distance from the sun amounted to 2. 7 times the mean radius ofthe terrestrial orbit; its distance from the observer was 2. 9: "Whatprobability would there be that rays going to such distances, from thesun to the comet, could, after their reflection, be seen by an eyenearly three times more distant from the comet than from the sun?"

It is only numerical determinations that could give value to such anargument. By satisfying himself with vague reasoning, Herschel did noteven perceive that he was committing a great mistake by making thecomet's distance from the observer appear to be an element ofvisibility. If the comet be self-luminous, its intrinsic splendour (itsbrightness for unity of surface) will remain constant at any distance, as long as the subtended angle remains sensible. If the body shines byborrowed light, its brightness will vary only according to its change ofdistance from the sun; nor will the distance of the observer occasionany change in the visibility; always, let it be understood, with therestriction that the apparent diameter shall not be diminished belowcertain limits. 

Herschel finished his observations of a comet that was visible inJanuary, 1807, with the following remark:--

"Of the sixteen telescopic comets that I have examined, fourteen had nosolid body visible at their centre; the other two exhibited a centrallight, very ill defined, that might be termed a nucleus, but a lightthat certainly could not deserve the name of a disk. "

The beautiful comet of 1811 became the object of that celebratedastronomer's conscientious labour. Large telescopes showed him, in themidst of the gazeous head, a rather reddish body of planetaryappearance, which bore strong magnifying powers, and showed no sign ofphase. Hence Herschel concluded that it was self-luminous. Yet if wereflect that the planetary body under consideration was not a second indiameter, the absence of a phase does not appear a demonstrativeargument. 

The light of the head had a blueish-green tint. Was this a real tint, ordid the central reddish body, only through contrast, make thesurrounding vapour appear to be coloured? Herschel did not examine thequestion in this point of view. 

The head of the comet appeared to be enveloped at a certain distance, onthe side towards the sun, by a brilliant narrow zone, embracing about asemicircle, and of a yellowish colour. From the two extremities of thesemicircle there arose, towards the region away from the sun, two longluminous streaks which limited the tail. Between the brilliant circularsemi-ring and the head, the cometary substance seemed dark, very rare, and very diaphanous. 

The luminous semi-ring always presented similar appearances in all thepositions of the comet; it was not then possible to attribute to itreally the annular form, the shape of Saturn's ring, for example. Herschel sought whether a spherical demi-envelop of luminous matter, andyet diaphanous, would not lead to a natural explanation of thephenomenon. In this hypothesis, the visual rays, which on the 6th ofOctober, 1811, made a section of the envelop, or bore almosttangentially, traversed a thickness of matter of about 399, 000kilometres, (248, 000 English miles, ) whilst the visual rays near thehead of the comet did not meet above 80, 000 kilometres (50, 000 miles) ofit. As the brightness must be proportional to the quantity of mattertraversed, there could not fail to be an appearance around the comet, ofa semi-ring five times more luminous than the central regions. Thissemi-ring, then, was an effect of projection, and it has revealed acircumstance to us truly remarkable in the physical constitution ofcomets. 

The two luminous streaks that outlined the tail at its two limits, maybe explained in a similar manner; the tail was not flat as it appearedto be; it had the form of a conoid, with its sides of a certainthickness. The visual lines which traversed those sides almosttangentially, evidently met much more matter than the visual linespassing across. This maximum of matter could not fail of beingrepresented by a maximum of light. 

The luminous semi-ring floated; it appeared one day to be suspended inthe diaphanous atmosphere by which the head of the comet was surrounded, at a distance of 518, 000 kilometres (322, 000 English miles) from thenucleus. 

This distance was not constant. The matter of the semi-annular envelopseemed even to be precipitated by slow degrees through the diaphanousatmosphere; finally it reached the nucleus; the earlier appearancesvanished; the comet was reduced to a globular nebula. 

During its period of dissolution, the ring appeared sometimes to haveseveral branches. 

The luminous shreds of the tail seemed to undergo rapid, frequent, andconsiderable variations of length. Herschel discerned symptoms of amovement of rotation both in the comet and in its tail. This rotatorymotion carried unequal shreds from the centre towards the border, andreciprocally. On looking from time to time at the same region of thetail, at the border, for example, sensible changes of length must havebeen perceptible, which however had no reality in them. Herschelthought, as I have already said, that the beautiful comet of 1811, andthat of 1807, were self-luminous. The second comet of 1811 appeared tohim to shine only by borrowed light. It must be acknowledged that theseconjectures did not rest on any thing demonstrative. 

In attentively comparing the comet of 1807 with the beautiful comet of1811, relative to the changes of distance from the sun, and themodifications resulting thence, Herschel put it beyond doubt that thesemodifications have something individual in them, something relative to aspecial state of the nebulous matter. On one celestial body the changesof distance produce an enormous effect, on another the modifications areinsignificant. 

OPTICAL LABOURS. 

I shall say very little on the discoveries that Herschel made inphysics. In short, everybody knows them. They have been inserted intospecial treatises, into elementary works, into verbal instruction; theymust be considered as the starting-point of a multitude of importantlabours with which the sciences have been enriched during several years. 

The chief of these is that of the dark radiating heat which is foundmixed with light. 

In studying the phenomena, no longer with the eye, like Newton, but witha thermometer, Herschel discovered that the solar spectrum is prolongedon the red side far beyond the visible limits. The thermometer sometimesrose higher in that dark region, than in the midst of brilliant zones. The light of the sun then, contains, besides the coloured rays so wellcharacterized by Newton, some invisible rays, still less refrangiblethan the red, and whose warming power is very considerable. A world ofdiscoveries has arisen from this fundamental fact. 

The dark heat emanating from terrestrial objects more or less heated, became also subjects of Herschel's investigations. His work containedthe germs of a good number of beautiful experiments since erected uponit in our own day. 

By successively placing the same objects in all parts of the solarspectrum Herschel determined the illuminating powers of the variousprismatic rays. The general result of these experiments may be thusenunciated:

The illuminating power of the red rays is not very great; that of theorange rays surpasses it, and is in its turn surpassed by the power ofthe yellow rays. The maximum power of illumination is found between thebrightest yellow and the palest green. The yellow and the green possessthis power equally. A like assimilation may be laid down between theblue and the red. Finally, the power of illumination in the indigo rays, and above all in the violet, is very weak. 

Yet the memoirs of Herschel on Newton's coloured rings, thoughcontaining a multitude of exact experiments, have not much contributedto advance the theory of those curious phenomena. I have learnt fromgood authority, that the great astronomer held the same opinion on thistopic. He said that it was the only occasion on which he had reason toregret having, according to his constant method, published his laboursimmediately, as fast as they were performed. 

LAPLACE. 

Having been appointed to draw up the report of a committee of theChamber of Deputies which was nominated in 1842, for the purpose oftaking into consideration the expediency of a proposal submitted to theChamber by the Minister of Public Instruction, relative to thepublication of a new edition of the works of Laplace at the publicexpense, I deemed it to be my duty to embody in the report a conciseanalysis of the works of our illustrious countryman. Several persons, influenced, perhaps, by too indulgent a feeling towards me, havingexpressed a wish that this analysis should not remain buried amid a heapof legislative documents, but that it should be published in the_Annuaire du Bureau des Longitudes_, I took advantage of thiscircumstance to develop it more fully so as to render it less unworthyof public attention. The scientific part of the report presented to theChamber of Deputies will be found here entire. It has been considereddesirable to suppress the remainder. I shall merely retain a fewsentences containing an explanation of the object of the proposed law, and an announcement of the resolutions which were adopted by the threepowers of the State. 

"Laplace has endowed France, Europe, the scientific world, with threemagnificent compositions: the _Traité de Mécanique Céleste_, the_Exposition du Système du Monde_, and the _Théorie Analytique desProbabilités_. In the present day (1842) there is no longer to be founda single copy of this last work at any bookseller's establishment inParis. The edition of the _Mécanique Céleste_ itself will soon beexhausted. It was painful then to reflect that the time was close athand when persons engaged in the study of the higher mathematics wouldbe compelled, for want of the original work, to inquire at Philadelphia, at New York, or at Boston for the English translation of the _chefd'oeuvre_ of our countryman by the excellent geometer Bowditch. Thesefears, let us hasten to state, were not well founded. To republish the_Mécanique Céleste_ was, on the part of the family of the illustriousgeometer, to perform a pious duty. Accordingly, Madame de Laplace, whois so justly, so profoundly attentive to every circumstance calculatedto enhance the renown of the name which she bears, did not hesitateabout pecuniary considerations. A small property near Pont l'Evêque wasabout to change hands, and the proceeds were to have been applied sothat Frenchmen should not be deprived of the satisfaction of exploringthe treasures of the _Mécanique Céleste_ through the medium of thevernacular tongue. 

"The republication of the complete works of Laplace rested upon anequally sure guarantee. Yielding at once to filial affection, to a noblefeeling of patriotism, and to the enthusiasm for brilliant discoverieswhich a course of severe study inspired, General Laplace had long sincequalified himself for becoming the editor of the seven volumes which aredestined to immortalize his father. 

"There are glorious achievements of a character too elevated, of alustre too splendid, that they should continue to exist as objects ofprivate property. Upon the State devolves the duty of preserving themfrom indifference and oblivion: of continually holding them up toattention, of diffusing a knowledge of them through a thousand channels;in a word, of rendering them subservient to the public interests. 

"Doubtless the Minister of Public Instruction was influenced by theseconsiderations, when upon the occasion of a new edition of the works ofLaplace having become necessary, he demanded of you to substitute thegreat French family for the personal family of the illustrious geometer. We give our full and unreserved adhesion to this proposition. It springsfrom a feeling of patriotism which will not be gainsayed by any one inthis assembly. "

In fact, the Chamber of Deputies had only to examine and solve thissingle question: "Are the works of Laplace of such transcendent, suchexceptional merit, that their republication ought to form the subject ofdeliberation of the great powers of the State?" An opinion prevailed, that it was not enough merely to appeal to public notoriety, but that itwas necessary to give an exact analysis of the brilliant discoveries ofLaplace in order to exhibit more fully the importance of the resolutionabout to be adopted. Who could hereafter propose on any similar occasionthat the Chamber should declare itself without discussion, when a desirewas felt, previous to voting in favour of a resolution so honourable tothe memory of a great man, to fathom, to measure, to examine minutelyand from every point of view monuments such as the _Mécanique Céleste_and the _Exposition du Système du Monde_? It has appeared to me that thereport drawn up in the name of a committee of one of the three greatpowers of the State might worthily close this series of biographicalnotices of eminent astronomers. [22]

The Marquis de Laplace, peer of France, one of the forty of the FrenchAcademy, member of the Academy of Sciences and of the _Bureau desLongitudes_, an associate of all the great Academies or ScientificSocieties of Europe, was born at Beaumont-en-Auge of parents belongingto the class of small farmers, on the 28th of March, 1749; he died onthe 5th of March, 1827. 

The first and second volumes of the _Mécanique Céleste_ were publishedin 1799; the third volume appeared in 1802, the fourth volume in 1805;as regards the fifth volume, Books XI. And XII. Were published in 1823, Books XIII. XIV. And XV. In 1824, and Book XVI. In 1825. The _Théoriedes Probabilités_ was published in 1812. We shall now present the readerwith the history of the principal astronomical discoveries contained hithese immortal works. 

Astronomy is the science of which the human mind may most justly boast. It owes this indisputable preëminence to the elevated nature of itsobject, to the grandeur of its means of investigation, to the certainty, the utility, and the unparalleled magnificence of its results. 

From the earliest period of the social existence of mankind, the studyof the movements of the heavenly bodies has attracted the attention ofgovernments and peoples. To several great captains, illustriousstatesmen, philosophers, and eminent orators of Greece and Rome itformed a subject of delight. Yet, let us be permitted to state, astronomy truly worthy of the name is quite a modern science. It datesonly from the sixteenth century. 

Three great, three brilliant phases, have marked its progress. 

In 1543 Copernicus overthrew with a firm and bold hand, the greater partof the antique and venerable scaffolding with which the illusions of thesenses and the pride of successive generations had filled the universe. The earth ceased to be the centre, the pivot of the celestial movements;it henceforward modestly ranged itself among the planets; its materialimportance, amid the totality of the bodies of which our solar system iscomposed, found itself reduced almost to that of a grain of sand. 

Twenty-eight years had elapsed from the day when the Canon of Thornexpired while holding in his faltering hands the first copy of the workwhich was to diffuse so bright and pure a flood of glory upon Poland, when Würtemberg witnessed the birth of a man who was destined to achievea revolution in science not less fertile in consequences, and still moredifficult of execution. This man was Kepler. Endowed with two qualitieswhich seemed incompatible with each other, a volcanic imagination, and apertinacity of intellect which the most tedious numerical calculationscould not daunt, Kepler conjectured that the movements of the celestialbodies must be connected together by simple laws, or, to use his ownexpressions, by _harmonic_ laws. These laws he undertook to discover. Athousand fruitless attempts, errors of calculation inseparable from acolossal undertaking, did not prevent him a single instant fromadvancing resolutely towards the goal of which he imagined he hadobtained a glimpse. Twenty-two years were employed by him in thisinvestigation, and still he was not weary of it! What, in reality, aretwenty-two years of labour to him who is about to become the legislatorof worlds; who shall inscribe his name in ineffaceable characters uponthe frontispiece of an immortal code; who shall be able to exclaim indithyrambic language, and without incurring the reproach of any one, "The die is cast; I have written my book; it will be read either in thepresent age or by posterity, it matters not which; it may well await areader, since God has waited six thousand years for an interpreter ofhis works?"[23]

To investigate a physical cause capable of making the planets revolve inclosed curves; to place the principle of the stability of the universein mechanical forces and not in solid supports such as the spheres ofcrystal which our ancestors had dreamed of; to extend to the revolutionsof the heavenly bodies the general principles of the mechanics ofterrestrial bodies, --such were the questions which remained to be solvedafter Kepler had announced his discoveries to the world. 

Very distinct traces of these great problems are perceived here andthere among the ancients as well as the moderns, from Lucretius andPlutarch down to Kepler, Bouillaud, and Borelli. It is to Newton, however, that we must award the merit of their solution. This great man, like several of his predecessors, conceived the celestial bodies to havea tendency to approach towards each other in virtue of an attractiveforce, deduced the mathematical characteristics of this force from thelaws of Kepler, extended it to all the material molecules of the solarsystem, and developed his brilliant discovery in a work which, even inthe present day, is regarded as the most eminent production of the humanintellect. 

The heart aches when, upon studying the history of the sciences, weperceive so magnificent an intellectual movement effected without thecoöperation of France. Practical astronomy increased our inferiority. The means of investigation were at first inconsiderately entrusted toforeigners, to the prejudice of Frenchmen abounding in intelligence andzeal. Subsequently, intellects of a superior order struggled withcourage, but in vain, against the unskilfulness of our artists. Duringthis period, Bradley, more fortunate on the other side of the Channel, immortalized himself by the discovery of aberration and nutation. 

The contribution of France to these admirable revolutions inastronomical science, consisted, in 1740, of the experimentaldetermination of the spheroidal figure of the earth, and of thediscovery of the variation of gravity upon the surface of our planet. These were two great results; our country, however, had a right todemand more: when France is not in the first rank she has lost herplace. [24]

This rank, which was lost for a moment, was brilliantly regained, anachievement for which we are indebted to four geometers. 

When Newton, giving to his discoveries a generality which the laws ofKepler did not imply, imagined that the different planets were not onlyattracted by the sun, but that they also attract each other, heintroduced into the heavens a cause of universal disturbance. Astronomers could then see at the first glance that in no part of theuniverse whether near or distant would the Keplerian laws suffice forthe exact representation of the phenomena; that the simple, regularmovements with which the imaginations of the ancients were pleased toendue the heavenly bodies would experience numerous, considerable, perpetually changing perturbations. 

To discover several of these perturbations, to assign their nature, andin a few rare cases their numerical values, such was the object whichNewton proposed to himself in writing the _Principia MathematicaPhilosophiæ Naturalis_. 

Notwithstanding the incomparable sagacity of its author the Principiacontained merely a rough outline of the planetary perturbations. If thissublime sketch did not become a complete portrait we must not attributethe circumstance to any want of ardour or perseverance; the efforts ofthe great philosopher were always superhuman, the questions which he didnot solve were incapable of solution in his time. When themathematicians of the continent entered upon the same career, when theywished to establish the Newtonian system upon an incontrovertible basis, and to improve the tables of astronomy, they actually found in their waydifficulties which the genius of Newton had failed to surmount. 

Five geometers, Clairaut, Euler, D'Alembert, Lagrange, and Laplace, shared between them the world of which Newton had disclosed theexistence. They explored it in all directions, penetrated into regionswhich had been supposed inaccessible, pointed out there a multitude ofphenomena which observation had not yet detected; finally, and it isthis which constitutes their imperishable glory, they reduced under thedomain of a single principle, a single law, every thing that was mostrefined and mysterious in the celestial movements. Geometry had thus theboldness to dispose of the future; the evolutions of ages arescrupulously ratifying the decisions of science. 

We shall not occupy our attention with the magnificent labours of Euler, we shall, on the contrary, present the reader with a rapid analysis ofthe discoveries of his four rivals, our countrymen. [25]

If a celestial body, the moon, for example, gravitated solely towardsthe centre of the earth, it would describe a mathematical ellipse; itwould strictly obey the laws of Kepler, or, which is the same thing, theprinciples of mechanics expounded by Newton in the first sections of hisimmortal work. 

Let us now consider the action of a second force. Let us take intoaccount the attraction which the sun exercises upon the moon, in otherwords, instead of two bodies, let us suppose three to operate on eachother, the Keplerian ellipse will now furnish merely a rough indicationof the motion of our satellite. In some parts the attraction of the sunwill tend to enlarge the orbit, and will in reality do so; in otherparts the effect will be the reverse of this. In a word, by theintroduction of a third attractive body, the greatest complication willsucceed to a simple regular movement upon which the mind reposed withcomplacency. 

If Newton gave a complete solution of the question of the celestialmovements in the case wherein two bodies attract each other, he did noteven attempt an analytical investigation of the infinitely moredifficult problem of three bodies. The problem of three bodies (this isthe name by which it has become celebrated), the problem for determiningthe movement of a body subjected to the attractive influence of twoother bodies, was solved for the first time, by our countrymanClairaut. [26] From this solution we may date the important improvementsof the lunar tables effected in the last century. 

The most beautiful astronomical discovery of antiquity, is that of theprecession of the equinoxes. Hipparchus, to whom the honour of it isdue, gave a complete and precise statement of all the consequences whichflow from this movement. Two of these have more especially attractedattention. 

By reason of the precession of the equinoxes, it is not always the samegroups of stars, the same constellations, which are perceived in theheavens at the same season of the year. In the lapse of ages theconstellations of winter will become those of summer and reciprocally. 

By reason of the precession of the equinoxes, the pole does not alwaysoccupy the same place in the starry vault. The moderately bright starwhich is very justly named in the present day, the pole star, was farremoved from the pole in the time of Hipparchus; in the course of a fewcenturies it will again appear removed from it. The designation of polestar has been, and will be, applied to stars very distant from eachother. 

When the inquirer in attempting to explain natural phenomena has themisfortune to enter upon a wrong path, each precise observation throwshim into new complications. Seven spheres of crystal did not suffice forrepresenting the phenomena as soon as the illustrious astronomer ofRhodes discovered precession. An eighth sphere was then wanted toaccount for a movement in which all the stars participated at the sametime. 

Copernicus having deprived the earth of its alleged immobility, gave avery simple explanation of the most minute circumstances of precession. He supposed that the axis of rotation does not remain exactly parallelto itself; that in the course of each complete revolution of the eartharound the sun, the axis deviates from its position by a small quantity;in a word, instead of supposing the circumpolar stars to advance in acertain way towards the pole, he makes the pole advance towards thestars. This hypothesis divested the mechanism of the universe of thegreatest complication which the love of theorizing had introduced intoit. A new Alphonse would have then wanted a pretext to address to hisastronomical synod the profound remark, so erroneously interpreted, which history ascribes to the king of Castile. 

If the conception of Copernicus improved by Kepler had, as we have justseen, introduced a striking improvement into the mechanism of theheavens, it still remained to discover the motive force which, byaltering the position of the terrestrial axis during each successiveyear, would cause it to describe an entire circle of nearly 50° indiameter, in a period of about 26, 000 years. 

Newton conjectured that this force arose from the action of the sun andmoon upon the redundant matter accumulated in the equatorial regions ofthe earth: thus he made the precession of the equinoxes depend upon thespheroidal figure of the earth; he declared that upon a round planet noprecession would exist. 

All this was quite true, but Newton did not succeed in establishing itby a mathematical process. Now this great man had introduced intophilosophy the severe and just rule: Consider as certain only what hasbeen demonstrated. The demonstration of the Newtonian conception of theprecession of the equinoxes was, then, a great discovery, and it is toD'Alembert that the glory of it is due. [27] The illustrious geometergave a complete explanation of the general movement, in virtue of whichthe terrestrial axis returns to the same stars in a period of about26, 000 years. He also connected with the theory of gravitation theperturbation of precession discovered by Bradley, that remarkableoscillation which the earth's axis experiences continually during itsmovement of progression, and the period of which, amounting to abouteighteen years, is exactly equal to the time which the intersection ofthe moon's orbit with the ecliptic employs in describing the 360° of theentire circumference. 

Geometers and astronomers are justly occupied as much with the figureand physical constitution which the earth might have had in remote agesas with its present figure and constitution. 

As soon as our countryman Richer discovered that a body, whatever be itsnature, weighs less when it is transported nearer the equatorialregions, everybody perceived that the earth, if it was originallyfluid, ought to bulge out at the equator. Huyghens and Newton did more;they calculated the difference between the greatest and least axes, theexcess of the equatorial diameter over the line of the poles. [28]

The calculation of Huyghens was founded upon hypothetic properties ofthe attractive force which were wholly inadmissible; that of Newton upona theorem which he ought to have demonstrated; the theory of the latterwas characterized by a defect of a still more serious nature: itsupposed the density of the earth during the original state of fluidity, to be homogeneous. [29] When in attempting the solution of great problemswe have recourse to such simplifications; when, in order to eludedifficulties of calculation, we depart so widely from natural andphysical conditions, the results relate to an ideal world, they are inreality nothing more than flights of the imagination. 

In order to apply mathematical analysis usefully to the determination ofthe figure of the earth it was necessary to abandon all idea ofhomogeneity, all constrained resemblance between the forms of thesuperposed and unequally dense strata; it was necessary also to examinethe case of a central solid nucleus. This generality increased tenfoldthe difficulties of the problem; neither Clairaut nor D'Alembert was, however, arrested by them. Thanks to the efforts of these two eminentgeometers, thanks to some essential developments due to their immediatesuccessors, and especially to the illustrious Legendre, the theoreticaldetermination of the figure of the earth has attained all desirableperfection. There now reigns the most satisfactory accordance betweenthe results of calculation and those of direct measurement. The earth, then, was originally fluid: analysis has enabled us to ascend to theearliest ages of our planet. [30]

In the time of Alexander comets were supposed by the majority of theGreek philosophers to be merely meteors generated in our atmosphere. During the middle ages, persons, without giving themselves much concernabout the nature of those bodies, supposed them to prognosticatesinister events. Regiomontanus and Tycho Brahé proved by theirobservations that they are situate beyond the moon; Hevelius, Dörfel, &c. , made them revolve around the sun; Newton established that they moveunder the immediate influence of the attractive force of that body, thatthey do not describe right lines, that, in fact, they obey the laws ofKepler. It was necessary, then, to prove that the orbits of comets arecurves which return into themselves, or that the same comet has beenseen on several distinct occasions. This discovery was reserved forHalley. By a minute investigation of the circumstances connected withthe apparitions of all the comets to be met with in the records ofhistory, in ancient chronicles, and in astronomical annals, this eminentphilosopher was enabled to prove that the comets of 1682, of 1607, andof 1531, were in reality so many successive apparitions of one and thesame body. 

This identity involved a conclusion before which more than oneastronomer shrunk. It was necessary to admit that the time of a completerevolution of the comet was subject to a great variation, amounting toas much as two years in seventy-six. 

Were such great discordances due to the disturbing action of theplanets?

The answer to this question would introduce comets into the category ofordinary planets or would exclude them for ever. The calculation wasdifficult: Clairaut discovered the means of effecting it. While successwas still uncertain, the illustrious geometer gave proof of the greatestboldness, for in the course of the year 1758 he undertook to determinethe time of the following year when the comet of 1682 would reappear. Hedesignated the constellations, nay the stars, which it would encounterin its progress. 

This was not one of those remote predictions which astrologers andothers formerly combined very skilfully with the tables of mortality, sothat they might not be falsified during their lifetime: the event wasclose at hand. The question at issue was nothing less than the creationof a new era in cometary astronomy, or the casting of a reproach uponscience, the consequences of which it would long continue to feel. 

Clairaut found by a long process of calculation, conducted with greatskill, that the action of Jupiter and Saturn ought to have retarded themovement of the comet; that the time of revolution compared with thatimmediately preceding, would be increased 518 days by the disturbingaction of Jupiter, and 100 days by the action of Saturn, forming atotal of 618 days, or more than a year and eight months. 

Never did a question of astronomy excite a more intense, a morelegitimate curiosity. All classes of society awaited with equal interestthe announced apparition. A Saxon peasant, Palitzch, first perceived thecomet. Henceforward, from one extremity of Europe to the other, athousand telescopes traced each night the path of the body through theconstellations. The route was always, within the limits of precision ofthe calculations, that which Clairaut had indicated beforehand. Theprediction of the illustrious geometer was verified in regard both totime and space: astronomy had just achieved a great and importanttriumph, and, as usual, had destroyed at one blow a disgraceful andinveterate prejudice. As soon as it was established that the returns ofcomets might be calculated beforehand, those bodies lost for ever theirancient prestige. The most timid minds troubled themselves quite aslittle about them as about eclipses of the sun and moon, which areequally subject to calculation. In fine, the labours of Clairaut hadproduced a deeper impression on the public mind than the learned, ingenious, and acute reasoning of Bayle. 

The heavens offer to reflecting minds nothing more curious or morestrange than the equality which subsists between the movements ofrotation and revolution of our satellite. By reason of this perfectequality the moon always presents the same side to the earth. Thehemisphere which we see in the present day is precisely that which ourancestors saw in the most remote ages; it is exactly the hemispherewhich future generations will perceive. 

The doctrine of final causes which certain philosophers have soabundantly made use of in endeavouring to account for a great number ofnatural phenomena was in this particular case totally inapplicable. Infact, how could it be pretended that mankind could have any interest inperceiving incessantly the same hemisphere of the moon, in neverobtaining a glimpse of the opposite hemisphere? On the other hand, theexistence of a perfect, mathematical equality between elements having nonecessary connection--such as the movements of translation and rotationof a given celestial body--was not less repugnant to all ideas ofprobability. There were besides two other numerical coincidences quiteas extraordinary; an identity of direction, relative to the stars, ofthe equator and orbit of the moon; exactly the same precessionalmovements of these two planes. This group of singular phenomena, discovered by J. D. Cassini, constituted the mathematical code of what iscalled the _Libration of the Moon_. 

The libration of the moon formed a very imperfect part of physicalastronomy when Lagrange made it depend on a circumstance connected withthe figure of our satellite which was not observable from the earth, andthereby connected it completely with the principles of universalgravitation. 

At the time when the moon was converted into a solid body, the action ofthe earth compelled it to assume a less regular figure than if noattracting body had been situate in its vicinity. The action of ourglobe rendered elliptical an equator which otherwise would have beencircular. This disturbing action did not prevent the lunar equator frombulging out in every direction, but the prominence of the equatorialdiameter directed towards the earth became four times greater than thatof the diameter which we see perpendicularly. 

The moon would appear then, to an observer situate in space andexamining it transversely, to be elongated towards the earth, to be asort of pendulum without a point of suspension. When a pendulum deviatesfrom the vertical, the action of gravity brings it back; when theprincipal axis of the moon recedes from its usual direction, the earthin like manner compels it to return. 

We have here, then, a complete explanation of a singular phenomenon, without the necessity of having recourse to the existence of an almostmiraculous equality between two movements of translation and rotation, entirely independent of each other. Mankind will never see but one faceof the moon. Observation had informed us of this fact; now we knowfurther that this is due to a physical cause which may be calculated, and which is visible only to the mind's eye, --that it is attributable tothe elongation which the diameter of the moon experienced when it passedfrom the liquid to the solid state under the attractive influence of theearth. 

If there had existed originally a slight difference between themovements of rotation and revolution of the moon, the attraction of theearth would have reduced these movements to a rigorous equality. Thisattraction would have even sufficed to cause the disappearance of aslight want of coincidence in the intersections of the equator and orbitof the moon with the plane of the ecliptic. 

The memoir in which Lagrange has so successfully connected the laws oflibration with the principles of gravitation, is no less remarkable forintrinsic excellence than style of execution. After having perused thisproduction, the reader will have no difficulty in admitting that theword _elegance_ may be appropriately applied to mathematical researches. 

In this analysis we have merely glanced at the astronomical discoveriesof Clairaut, D'Alembert, and Lagrange. We shall be somewhat less concisein noticing the labours of Laplace. 

After having enumerated the various forces which must result from themutual action of the planets and satellites of our system, even thegreat Newton did not venture to investigate the general nature of theeffects produced by them. In the midst of the labyrinth formed byincreases and diminutions of velocity, variations in the forms of theorbits, changes of distances and inclinations, which these forces mustevidently produce, the most learned geometer would fail to discover atrustworthy guide. This extreme complication gave birth to adiscouraging reflection. Forces so numerous, so variable in position, sodifferent in intensity, seemed to be incapable of maintaining acondition of equilibrium except by a sort of miracle. Newton even wentso far as to suppose that the planetary system did not contain withinitself the elements of indefinite stability; he was of opinion that apowerful hand must intervene from time to time, to repair thederangements occasioned by the mutual action of the various bodies. Euler, although farther advanced than Newton in a knowledge of theplanetary pertubations, refused also to admit that the solar system wasconstituted so as to endure for ever. 

Never did a greater philosophical question offer itself to the inquiriesof mankind. Laplace attacked it with boldness, perseverance, andsuccess. The profound and long-continued researches of the illustriousgeometer established with complete evidence that the planetary ellipsesare perpetually variable; that the extremities of their major axes makethe tour of the heavens; that, independently of an oscillatory motion, the planes of their orbits experienced a displacement in virtue of whichtheir intersections with the plane of the terrestrial orbit are eachyear directed towards different stars. In the midst of this apparentchaos there is one element which remains constant or is merely subjectto small periodic changes; namely, the major axis of each orbit, andconsequently the time of revolution of each planet. This is the elementwhich ought to have chiefly varied, according to the learnedspeculations of Newton and Euler. 

The principle of universal gravitation suffices for preserving thestability of the solar system. It maintains the forms and inclinationsof the orbits in a mean condition which is subject to slightoscillations; variety does not entail disorder; the universe offers theexample of harmonious relations, of a state of perfection which Newtonhimself doubted. This depends on circumstances which calculationdisclosed to Laplace, and which, upon a superficial view of the subject, would not seem to be capable of exercising so great an influence. Instead of planets revolving all in the same direction in slightlyeccentric orbits, and in planes inclined at small angles towards eachother, substitute different conditions and the stability of the universewill again be put in jeopardy, and according to all probability therewill result a frightful chaos. [31]

Although the invariability of the mean distances of the planetaryorbits has been more completely demonstrated since the appearance of thememoir above referred to, that is to say by pushing the analyticalapproximations to a greater extent, it will, notwithstanding, alwaysconstitute one of the admirable discoveries of the author of the_Mécanique Céleste_. Dates, in the case of such subjects, are no luxuryof erudition. The memoir in which Laplace communicated his results onthe invariability of the mean motions or mean distances, is dated1773. [32] It was in 1784 only, that he established the stability of theother elements of the system from the smallness of the planetary masses, the inconsiderable eccentricity of the orbits, and the revolution of theplanets in one common direction around the sun. 

The discovery of which I have just given an account to the readerexcluded at least from the solar system the idea of the Newtonianattraction being a cause of disorder. But might not other forces, bycombining with attraction, produce gradually increasing perturbations asNewton and Euler dreaded? Facts of a positive nature seemed to justifythese fears. 

A comparison of ancient with modern observations revealed the existenceof a continual acceleration of the mean motions of the moon and theplanet Jupiter, and an equally striking diminution of the mean motionof Saturn. These variations led to conclusions of the most singularnature. 

In accordance with the presumed cause of these perturbations, to saythat the velocity of a body increased from century to century wasequivalent to asserting that the body continually approached the centreof motion; on the other hand, when the velocity diminished, the bodymust be receding from the centre. 

Thus, by a strange arrangement of nature, our planetary system seemeddestined to lose Saturn, its most mysterious ornament, --to see theplanet accompanied by its ring and seven satellites, plunge graduallyinto unknown regions, whither the eye armed with the most powerfultelescopes has never penetrated. Jupiter, on the other hand, the planetcompared with which the earth is so insignificant, appeared to be movingin the opposite direction, so as to be ultimately absorbed in theincandescent matter of the sun. Finally, the moon seemed as if it wouldone day precipitate itself upon the earth. 

There was nothing doubtful or speculative in these sinister forebodings. The precise dates of the approaching catastrophes were alone uncertain. It was known, however, that they were very distant. Accordingly, neitherthe learned dissertations of men of science nor the animateddescriptions of certain poets produced any impression upon the publicmind. 

It was not so with our scientific societies, the members of whichregarded with regret the approaching destruction of our planetarysystem. The Academy of Sciences called the attention of geometers of allcountries to these menacing perturbations. Euler and Lagrange descendedinto the arena. Never did their mathematical genius shine with abrighter lustre. Still, the question remained undecided. The inutilityof such efforts seemed to suggest only a feeling of resignation on thesubject, when from two disdained corners of the theories of analysis, the author of the _Mécanique Céleste_ caused the laws of these greatphenomena clearly to emerge. The variations of velocity of Jupiter, Saturn, and the Moon flowed then from evident physical causes, andentered into the category of ordinary periodic perturbations dependingupon the principle of attraction. The variations in the dimensions ofthe orbits which were so much dreaded resolved themselves into simpleoscillations included within narrow limits. Finally, by the powerfulinstrumentality of mathematical analysis, the physical universe wasagain established on a firm foundation. 

I cannot quit this subject without at least alluding to thecircumstances in the solar system upon which depend the so longunexplained variations of velocity of the Moon, Jupiter, and Saturn. 

The motion of the earth around the sun is mainly effected in an ellipse, the form of which is liable to vary from the effects of planetaryperturbation. These alterations of form are periodic; sometimes thecurve, without ceasing to be elliptic, approaches the form of a circle, while at other times it deviates more and more from that form. From theepoch of the earliest recorded observations, the eccentricity of theterrestrial orbit has been diminishing from year to year; at some futureepoch the orbit, on the contrary, will begin to deviate from the form ofa circle, and the eccentricity will increase to the same extent as itpreviously diminished, and according to the same laws. 

Now, Laplace has shown that the mean motion of the moon around theearth is connected with the form of the ellipse which the earthdescribes around the sun; that a diminution of the eccentricity of theellipse inevitably induces an increase in the velocity of our satellite, and _vice versâ_; finally, that this cause suffices to explain thenumerical value of the acceleration which the mean motion of the moonhas experienced from the earliest ages down to the present time. [33]

The origin of the inequalities in the mean motions of Jupiter and Saturnwill be, I hope, as easy to conceive. 

Mathematical analysis has not served to represent in finite terms thevalues of the derangements which each planet experiences in its movementfrom the action of all the other planets. In the present state ofscience, this value is exhibited in the form of an indefinite series ofterms diminishing rapidly in magnitude. In calculation, it is usual toneglect such of those terms as correspond in the order of magnitude toquantities beneath the errors of observation. But there are cases inwhich the order of the term in the series does not decide whether it besmall or great. Certain numerical relations between the primitiveelements of the disturbing and disturbed planets may impart sensiblevalues to terms which usually admit of being neglected. This case occursin the perturbations of Saturn produced by Jupiter, and in those ofJupiter produced by Saturn. There exists between the mean motions ofthese two great planets a simple relation of commensurability, fivetimes the mean motion of Saturn, being, in fact, very nearly equal totwice the mean motion of Jupiter. It happens, in consequence, thatcertain terms, which would otherwise be very small, acquire from thiscircumstance considerable values. Hence arise in the movements of thesetwo planets, inequalities of long duration which require more than 900years for their complete development, and which represent withmarvellous accuracy all the irregularities disclosed by observation. 

Is it not astonishing to find in the commensurability of the meanmotions of two planets, a cause of perturbation of so influential anature; to discover that the definitive solution of an immensedifficulty--which baffled the genius of Euler, and which even ledpersons to doubt whether the theory of gravitation was capable ofaccounting for all the phenomena of the heavens--should depend upon thefortuitous circumstance of five times the mean motion of Saturn beingequal to twice the mean motion of Jupiter? The beauty of the conceptionand the ultimate result are here equally worthy of admiration. [34]

We have just explained how Laplace demonstrated that the solar systemcan experience only small periodic oscillations around a certain meanstate. Let us now see in what way he succeeded in determining theabsolute dimensions of the orbits. 

What is the distance of the sun from the earth? No scientific questionhas occupied in a greater degree the attention of mankind;mathematically speaking, nothing is more simple. It suffices, as incommon operations of surveying, to draw visual lines from the twoextremities of a known base to an inaccessible object. The remainder isa process of elementary calculation. Unfortunately, in the case of thesun, the distance is great and the bases which can be measured upon theearth are comparatively very small. In such a case the slightest errorsin the direction of the visual lines exercise an enormous influence uponthe results. 

In the beginning of the last century Halley remarked that certaininterpositions of Venus between the earth and the sun, or, to use anexpression applied to such conjunctions, that the _transits_ of theplanet across the sun's disk, would furnish at each observatory anindirect means of fixing the position of the visual ray very superior inaccuracy to the most perfect direct methods. [35]

Such was the object of the scientific expeditions undertaken in 1761 and1769, on which occasions France, not to speak of stations in Europe, wasrepresented at the Isle of Rodrigo by Pingré, at the Isle of St. Domingoby Fleurin, at California by the Abbé Chappe, at Pondicherry byLegentil. At the same epochs England sent Maskelyne to St. Helena, Walesto Hudson's Bay, Mason to the Cape of Good Hope, Captain Cooke toOtaheite, &c. The observations of the southern hemisphere compared withthose of Europe, and especially with the observations made by anAustrian astronomer Father Hell at Wardhus in Lapland, gave for thedistance of the sun the result which has since figured in all treatiseson astronomy and navigation. 

No government hesitated in furnishing Academies with the means, howeverexpensive they might be, of conveniently establishing their observers inthe most distant regions. We have already remarked that thedetermination of the contemplated distance appeared to demandimperiously an extensive base, for small bases would have been totallyinadequate to the purpose. Well, Laplace has solved the problemnumerically without a base of any kind whatever; he has deduced thedistance of the sun from observations of the moon made in one and thesame place!

The sun is, with respect to our satellite, the cause of perturbationswhich evidently depend on the distance of the immense luminous globefrom the earth. Who does not see that these perturbations would diminishif the distance increased; that they would increase on the contrary, ifthe distance diminished; that the distance finally determines themagnitude of the perturbations?

Observation assigns the numerical value of these perturbations; theory, on the other hand, unfolds the general mathematical relation whichconnects them with the solar parallax, and with other known elements. The determination of the mean radius of the terrestrial orbit thenbecomes one of the most simple operations of algebra. Such is the happycombination by the aid of which Laplace has solved the great, thecelebrated problem of parallax. It is thus that the illustrious geometerfound for the mean distance of the sun from the earth, expressed inradii of the terrestrial orbit, a value differing only in a slightdegree from that which was the fruit of so many troublesome andexpensive voyages. According to the opinion of very competent judges theresult of the indirect method might not impossibly merit thepreference. [36]

The movements of the moon proved a fertile mine of research to ourgreat geometer. His penetrating intellect discovered in them unknowntreasures. He disentangled them from every thing which concealed themfrom vulgar eyes with an ability and a perseverance equally worthy ofadmiration. The reader will excuse me for citing another of suchexamples. 

The earth governs the movements of the moon. The earth is flattened, inother words its figure is spheroidal. A spheroidal body does not attractlike a sphere. There ought then to exist in the movement, I had almostsaid in the countenance of the moon, a sort of impression of thespheroidal figure of the earth. Such was the idea as it originallyoccurred to Laplace. 

It still remained to ascertain (and here consisted the chiefdifficulty), whether the effects attributable to the spheroidal figureof the earth were sufficiently sensible not to be confounded with theerrors of observation. It was accordingly necessary to find the generalformula of perturbations of this nature, in order to be able, as in thecase of the solar parallax, to eliminate the unknown quantity. 

The ardour of Laplace, combined with his power of analytical research, surmounted all obstacles. By means of an investigation which demandedthe most minute attention, the great geometer discovered in the theoryof the moon's movements, two well-defined perturbations depending on thespheroidal figure of the earth. The first affected the resolved elementof the motion of our satellite which is chiefly measured with theinstrument known in observatories by the name of the transit instrument;the second, which operated in the direction north and south, could onlybe effected by observations with a second instrument termed the muralcircle. These two inequalities of very different magnitudes connectedwith the cause which produces them by analytical combinations of totallydifferent kinds have, however, both conducted to the same value of theellipticity. It must be borne in mind, however, that the ellipticitythus deduced from the movements of the moon, is not the ellipticitycorresponding to such or such a country, the ellipticity observed inFrance, in England, in Italy, in Lapland, in North America, in India, orin the region of the Cape of Good Hope, for the earth's materials havingundergone considerable upheavings at different times and in differentplaces, the primitive regularity of its curvature has been sensiblydisturbed by this cause. The moon, and it is this circumstance whichrenders the result of such inestimable value, ought to assign, and hasin reality assigned the general ellipticity of the earth; in otherwords, it has indicated a sort of mean value of the variousdeterminations obtained at enormous expense, and with infinite labour, as the result of long voyages undertaken by astronomers of all thecountries of Europe. 

I shall add a few brief remarks, for which I am mainly indebted to theauthor of the _Mécanique Céleste_. They seem to be eminently adapted forillustrating the profound, the unexpected, and almost paradoxicalcharacter of the methods which I have just attempted to sketch. 

What are the elements which it has been found necessary to confront witheach other in order to arrive at results expressed even to the precisionof the smallest decimals?

On the one hand, mathematical formulæ, deduced from the principle ofuniversal attraction; on the other hand, certain irregularities observedin the returns of the moon to the meridian. 

An observing geometer who, from his infancy, had never quitted hischamber of study, and who had never viewed the heavens except through anarrow aperture directed north and south, in the vertical plane in whichthe principal astronomical instruments are made to move, --to whomnothing had ever been revealed respecting the bodies revolving above hishead, except that they attract each other according to the Newtonian lawof gravitation, --would, however, be enabled to ascertain that his narrowabode was situated upon the surface of a spheroidal body, the equatorialaxis of which surpassed the polar axis by a _three hundred and sixthpart_; he would have also found, in his isolated immovable position, histrue distance from the sun. 

I have stated at the commencement of this Notice, that it is toD'Alembert we owe the first satisfactory mathematical explanation of thephenomenon of the precession of the equinoxes. But our illustriouscountryman, as well as Euler, whose solution appeared subsequently tothat of D'Alembert, omitted all consideration of certain physicalcircumstances, which, however, did not seem to be of a nature to beneglected without examination. Laplace has supplied this deficiency. Hehas shown that the sea, notwithstanding its fluidity, and that theatmosphere, notwithstanding its currents, exercise the same influence onthe movements of the terrestrial axis as if they formed solid massesadhering to the terrestrial spheroid. 

Do the extremities of the axis around which the earth performs an entirerevolution once in every twenty-four hours, correspond always to thesame material points of the terrestrial spheroid? In other words, do thepoles of rotation, which from year to year correspond to differentstars, undergo also a displacement at the surface of the earth?

In the case of the affirmative, the equator is movable as well as thepoles; the terrestrial latitudes are variable; no country during thelapse of ages will enjoy, even on an average, a constant climate;regions the most different will, in their turn, become circumpolar. Adopt the contrary supposition, and every thing assumes the character ofan admirable permanence. 

The question which I have just suggested, one of the most important inAstronomy, cannot be solved by the aid of mere observation on account ofthe uncertainty of the early determinations of terrestrial latitude. Laplace has supplied this defect by analysis. The great geometer hasdemonstrated that no circumstance depending on universal gravitation cansensibly displace the poles of the earth's axis relatively to thesurface of the terrestrial spheroid. The sea, far from being an obstacleto the invariable rotation of the earth upon its axis, would, on thecontrary, reduce the axis to a permanent condition in consequence of themobility of the waters and the resistance which their oscillationsexperience. 

The remarks which I have just made with respect to the position of theterrestrial axis are equally applicable to the time of the earth'srotation which is the unit, the true standard of time. The importance ofthis element induced Laplace to examine whether its numerical valuemight not be liable to vary from internal causes such as earthquakes andvolcanoes. It is hardly necessary for me to state that the resultobtained was negative. 

The admirable memoir of Lagrange upon the libration of the moon seemedto have exhausted the subject. This, however, was not the case. 

The motion of revolution of our satellite around the earth is subject toperturbations, technically termed _secular_, which were either unknownto Lagrange or which he neglected. These inequalities eventually placethe body, not to speak of entire circumferences, at angular distances ofa semi-circle, a circle and a half, &c. , from the position which itwould otherwise occupy. If the movement of rotation did not participatein such perturbations, the moon in the lapse of ages would present insuccession all the parts of its surface to the earth. 

This event will not occur. The hemisphere of the moon which is actuallyinvisible, will remain invisible for ever. Laplace, in fact, has shownthat the attraction of the earth introduces into the rotatory motion ofthe lunar spheroid the secular inequalities which exist in the movementof revolution. 

Researches of this nature exhibit in full relief the power ofmathematical analysis. It would have been very difficult to havediscovered by synthesis truths so profoundly enveloped in the complexaction of a multitude of forces. 

We should be inexcusable if we omitted to notice the high importance ofthe labours of Laplace on the improvement of the lunar tables. Theimmediate object of this improvement was, in effect, the promotion ofmaritime intercourse between distant countries, and, what was indeed farsuperior to all considerations of mercantile interest, the preservationof the lives of mariners. 

Thanks to a sagacity without parallel, to a perseverance which knew nolimits, to an ardour always youthful and which communicated itself toable coadjutors, Laplace solved the celebrated problem of the longitudemore completely than could have been hoped for in a scientific point ofview, with greater precision than the art of navigation in its utmostrefinement demanded. The ship, the sport of the winds and tempests, hasno occasion, in the present day, to be afraid of losing itself in theimmensity of the ocean. An intelligent glance at the starry vaultindicates to the pilot, in every place and at every time, his distancefrom the meridian of Paris. The extreme perfection of the existingtables of the moon entitles Laplace to be ranked among the benefactorsof humanity. [37]

In the beginning of the year 1611, Galileo supposed that he found in theeclipses of Jupiter's satellites a simple and rigorous solution of thefamous problem of the longitude, and active negotiations wereimmediately commenced with the view of introducing the new method onboard the numerous vessels of Spain and Holland. These negotiationsfailed. From the discussion it plainly appeared that the accurateobservation of the eclipses of the satellites would require powerfultelescopes; but such telescopes could not be employed on board a shiptossed about by the waves. 

The method of Galileo seemed, at any rate, to retain all its advantageswhen applied on land, and to promise immense improvements to geography. These expectations were found to be premature. The movements of thesatellites of Jupiter are not by any means so simple as the immortalinventor of the method of longitudes supposed them to be. It wasnecessary that three generations of astronomers and mathematiciansshould labour with perseverance in unfolding their most considerableperturbations. It was necessary, in fine, that the tables of thosebodies should acquire all desirable and necessary precision, thatLaplace should introduce into the midst of them the torch ofmathematical analysis. 

In the present day, the nautical ephemerides contain, several years inadvance, the indication of the times of the eclipses and reappearancesof Jupiter's satellites. Calculation does not yield in precision todirect observation. In this group of satellites, considered as anindependent system of bodies, Laplace found a series of perturbationsanalogous to those which the planets experience. The rapidity of therevolutions unfolds, in a sufficiently short space of time, changes inthis system which require centuries for their complete development inthe solar system. 

Although the satellites exhibit hardly an appreciable diameter even whenviewed in the best telescopes, our illustrious countryman was enabled todetermine their masses. Finally, he discovered certain simple relationsof an extremely remarkable character between the movements of thosebodies, which have been called _the laws of Laplace_. Posterity will notobliterate this designation; it will acknowledge the propriety ofinscribing in the heavens the name of so great an astronomer beside thatof Kepler. 

Let us cite two or three of the laws of Laplace:--

If we add to the mean longitude of the first satellite twice that of thethird, and subtract from the sum three times the mean longitude of thesecond, the result will be exactly equal to 180°. 

Would it not be very extraordinary if the three satellites had beenplaced originally at the distances from Jupiter, and in the positions, with respect to each other, adapted for constantly and rigorouslymaintaining the foregoing relation? Laplace has replied to this questionby showing that it is not necessary that this relation should have beenrigorously true at the origin. The mutual action of the satellites wouldnecessarily have reduced it to its present mathematical condition, ifonce the distances and the positions satisfied the law approximately. 

This first law is equally true when we employ the synodical elements. Ithence plainly results, that the first three satellites of Jupiter cannever be all eclipsed at the same time. Bearing this in mind, we shallhave no difficulty in apprehending the import of a celebratedobservation of recent times, during which certain astronomers perceivedthe planet for a short time without any of his four satellites. Thiswould not by any means authorize us in supposing the satellites to beeclipsed. A satellite disappears when it is projected upon the centralpart of the luminous disk of Jupiter, and also when it passes behind theopaque body of the planet. 

The following is another very simple law to which the mean motions ofthe same satellites of Jupiter are subject:

If we add to the mean motion of the first satellite twice the meanmotion of the third, the sum is exactly equal to three times the meanmotion of the second. [38]

This numerical coincidence, which is perfectly accurate, would be one ofthe most mysterious phenomena in the system of the universe if Laplacehad not proved that the law need only have been approximate at theorigin, and that the mutual action of the satellites has sufficed torender it rigorous. 

The illustrious geometer, who always pursued his researches to theirmost remote ramifications, arrived at the following result: The actionof Jupiter regulates the movements of rotation of the satellites sothat, without taking into account the secular perturbations, the time ofrotation of the first satellite plus twice the time of rotation of thethird, forms a sum which is constantly equal to three times the time ofrotation of the second. 

Influenced by a deference, a modesty, a timidity, without any plausiblemotive, our artists in the last century surrendered to the English theexclusive privilege of constructing instruments of astronomy. Thus, letus frankly acknowledge the fact, at the time when Herschel wasprosecuting his beautiful observations on the other side of the Channel, there existed in France no instruments adapted for developing them; wehad not even the means of verifying them. Fortunately for the scientifichonour of our country, mathematical analysis is also a powerfulinstrument. Laplace gave ample proof of this on a memorable occasionwhen from the retirement of his chamber he predicted, he minutelyannounced, what the excellent astronomer of Windsor would see with thelargest telescopes which were ever constructed by the hand of man. 

When Galileo, in the beginning of the year 1610, directed towards Saturna telescope of very low power which he had just executed with his ownhands, he perceived that the planet was not an ordinary globe, withouthowever being able to ascertain its real form. The expression_tri-corporate_, by which the illustrious Florentine designated theappearance of the planet, implied even a totally erroneous idea of itsstructure. Our countryman Roberval entertained much sounder views on thesubject, but from not having instituted a detailed comparison betweenhis hypothesis and the results of observation, he abandoned to Huyghensthe honour of being regarded as the author of the true theory of thephenomena presented by the wonderful planet. 

Every person knows, in the present day, that Saturn consists of a globeabout 900 times greater than the earth, and a ring. This ring does nottouch the ball of the planet, being everywhere removed from it at adistance of 20, 000 (English) miles. Observation indicates the breadth ofthe ring to be 54, 000 miles. The thickness certainly does not exceed 250miles. With the exception of a black streak which divides the ringthroughout its whole contour into two parts of unequal breadth and ofdifferent brightness, this strange colossal bridge without piles hadnever offered to the most experienced or skilful observers either spotor protuberance adapted for deciding whether it was immovable or enduedwith a movement of rotation. 

Laplace considered it to be very improbable, if the ring was immovable, that its constituent parts should be capable of resisting by their merecohesion the continual attraction of the planet. A movement of rotationoccurred to his mind as constituting the principle of stability, and hehence deduced the necessary velocity. The velocity thus found wasexactly equal to that which Herschel subsequently deduced from a courseof extremely delicate observations. 

The two parts of the ring being placed at different distances from theplanet, could not fail to experience from the action of the sun, different movements of rotation. It would hence seem that the planes ofboth rings ought to be generally inclined towards each other, whereasthey appear from observation always to coincide. It was necessary thenthat some physical cause should exist which would be capable ofneutralizing the action of the sun. In a memoir published in February, 1789, Laplace found that this cause must reside in the ellipticity ofSaturn produced by a rapid movement of rotation of the planet, amovement the existence of which Herschel announced in November, 1789. 

The reader cannot fail to remark how, on certain occasions, the eyes ofthe mind can supply the want of the most powerful telescopes, and leadto astronomical discoveries of the highest importance. 

Let us descend from the heavens upon the earth. The discoveries ofLaplace will appear not less important, not less worthy of his genius. 

The phenomena of the tides, which an ancient philosopher designated indespair as _the tomb of human curiosity_, were connected by Laplace withan analytical theory in which the physical conditions of the questionfigure for the first time. Accordingly calculators, to the immenseadvantage of the navigation of our maritime coasts, venture in thepresent day to predict several years in advance the details of the timeand height of the full tides without more anxiety respecting the resultthan if the question related to the phases of an eclipse. 

There exists between the different phenomena of the ebb and flow of thetides and the attractive forces which the sun and moon exercise upon thefluid sheet which covers three fourths of the globe, an intimate andnecessary connection from which Laplace, by the aid of a series oftwenty years of observations executed at Brest, deduced the value of themass of our satellite. Science knows in the present day thatseventy-five moons would be necessary to form a weight equivalent tothat of the terrestrial globe, and it is indebted for this result to anattentive and minute study of the oscillations of the ocean. We knowonly one means of enhancing the admiration which every thoughtful mindwill entertain for theories capable of leading to such conclusions. Anhistorical statement will supply it. In the year 1631, the illustriousGalileo, as appears from his _Dialogues_, was so far from perceiving themathematical relations from which Laplace deduced results so beautiful, so unequivocal, and so useful, that he taxed with frivolousness thevague idea which Kepler entertained of attributing to the moon'sattraction a certain share in the production of the diurnal andperiodical movements of the waters of the ocean. 

Laplace did not confine himself to extending so considerably, andimproving so essentially, the mathematical theory of the tides; heconsidered the phenomenon from an entirely new point of view; it was hewho first treated of the stability of the ocean. Systems of bodies, whether solid or fluid, are subject to two kinds of equilibrium, whichwe must carefully distinguish from each other. In the case of stableequilibrium the system, when slightly disturbed, tends always to returnto its original condition. On the other hand, when the system is inunstable equilibrium, a very insignificant derangement might occasion anenormous dislocation in the relative positions of its constituent parts. 

If the equilibrium of waves is of the latter kind, the waves engenderedby the action of winds, by earthquakes, and by sudden movements from thebottom of the ocean, have perhaps risen in past times and may rise inthe future to the height of the highest mountains. The geologist willhave the satisfaction of deducing from these prodigious oscillations arational explanation of a great multitude of phenomena, but the publicwill thereby be exposed to new and terrible catastrophes. 

Mankind may rest assured: Laplace has proved that the equilibrium of theocean is stable, but upon the express condition (which, however, hasbeen amply verified by established facts), that the mean density of thefluid mass is less than the mean density of the earth. Every thing elseremaining the same, let us substitute an ocean of mercury for the actualocean, and the stability will disappear, and the fluid will frequentlysurpass its boundaries, to ravage continents even to the height of thesnowy regions which lose themselves in the clouds. 

Does not the reader remark how each of the analytical investigations ofLaplace serves to disclose the harmony and duration of the universe andof our globe!

It was impossible that the great geometer, who had succeeded so well inthe study of the tides of the ocean, should not have occupied hisattention with the tides of the atmosphere; that he should not havesubmitted to the delicate and definitive tests of a rigorous calculus, the generally diffused opinions respecting the influence of the moonupon the height of the barometer and other meteorological phenomena. 

Laplace, in effect, has devoted a chapter of his splendid work to anexamination of the oscillations which the attractive force of the moonis capable of producing in our atmosphere. It results from theseresearches, that, at Paris, the lunar tide produces no sensible effectupon the barometer. The height of the tide, obtained by the discussionof a long series of observations, has not exceeded two-hundredths of amillimètre, a quantity which, in the present state of meteorologicalscience, is less than the probable error of observation. 

The calculation to which I have just alluded, may be cited in supportof considerations to which I had recourse when I wished to establish, that if the moon alters more or less the height of the barometer, according to its different phases, the effect is not attributable toattraction. 

No person was more sagacious than Laplace in discovering intimaterelations between phenomena apparently very dissimilar; no person showedhimself more skilful in deducing important conclusions from thoseunexpected affinities. 

Towards the close of his days, for example, he overthrew with a strokeof the pen, by the aid of certain observations of the moon, thecosmogonic theories of Buffon and Bailly, which were so long in favour. 

According to these theories, the earth was inevitably advancing to astate of congelation which was close at hand. Laplace, who nevercontented himself with a vague statement, sought to determine in numbersthe rapid cooling of our globe which Buffon had so eloquently but sogratuitously announced. Nothing could be more simple, better connected, or more demonstrative, than the chain of deductions of the celebratedgeometer. 

A body diminishes in volume when it cools. According to the mostelementary principles of mechanics, a rotating body which contracts indimensions ought inevitably to turn upon its axis with greater andgreater rapidity. The length of the day has been determined in all agesby the time of the earth's rotation; if the earth is cooling, the lengthof the day must be continually shortening. Now there exists a means ofascertaining whether the length of the day has undergone any variation;this consists in examining, for each century, the arc of the celestialsphere described by the moon during the interval of time which theastronomers of the existing epoch called a day, --in other words, thetime required by the earth to effect a complete rotation on its axis, the velocity of the moon being in fact independent of the time of theearth's rotation. 

Let us now, after the example of Laplace, take from the standard tablesthe least considerable values, if you choose, of the expansions orcontractions which solid bodies experience from changes of temperature;search then the annals of Grecian, Arabian, and modern astronomy for thepurpose of finding in them the angular velocity of the moon, and thegreat geometer will prove, by incontrovertible evidence founded uponthese data, that during a period of two thousand years the meantemperature of the earth has not varied to the extent of the hundredthpart of a degree of the centigrade thermometer. No eloquent declamationis capable of resisting such a process of reasoning, or withstanding theforce of such numbers. The mathematics have been in all ages theimplacable adversaries of scientific romances. 

The fall of bodies, if it was not a phenomenon of perpetual occurrence, would justly excite in the highest degree the astonishment of mankind. What, in effect, is more extraordinary than to see an inert mass, thatis to say, a mass deprived of will, a mass which ought not to have anypropensity to advance in one direction more than in another, precipitateitself towards the earth as soon as it ceased to be supported!

Nature engenders the gravity of bodies by a process so recondite, socompletely beyond the reach of our senses and the ordinary resources ofhuman intelligence, that the philosophers of antiquity, who supposedthat they could explain every thing mechanically according to thesimple evolutions of atoms, excepted gravity from their speculations. 

Descartes attempted what Leucippus, Democritus, Epicurus, and theirfollowers thought to be impossible. 

He made the fall of terrestrial bodies depend upon the action of avortex of very subtle matter circulating around the earth. The realimprovements which the illustrious Huyghens applied to the ingeniousconception of our countryman were far, however, from imparting to itclearness and precision, those characteristic attributes of truth. 

Those persons form a very imperfect estimate of the meaning of one ofthe greatest questions which has occupied the attention of moderninquirers, who regard Newton as having issued victorious from a strugglein which his two immortal predecessors had failed. Newton did notdiscover the cause of gravity any more than Galileo did. Two bodiesplaced in juxtaposition approach each other. Newton does not inquireinto the nature of the force which produces this effect. The forceexists, he designates it by the term attraction; but, at the same time, he warns the reader that the term as thus used by him does not imply anydefinite idea of the physical process by which gravity is brought intoexistence and operates. 

The force of attraction being once admitted as a fact, Newton studies itin all terrestrial phenomena, in the revolutions of the moon, theplanets, satellites, and comets; and, as we have already stated, hededuced from this incomparable study the simple, universal, mathematicalcharacteristics of the forces which preside over the movements of allthe bodies of which our solar system is composed. 

The applause of the scientific world did not prevent the immortalauthor of the _Principia_ from hearing some persons refer the principleof gravitation to the class of occult qualities. This circumstanceinduced Newton and his most devoted followers to abandon the reservewhich they had hitherto considered it their duty to maintain. Thosepersons were then charged with ignorance who regarded attraction as anessential property of matter, as the mysterious indication of a sort ofcharm; who supposed that two bodies may act upon each other without theintervention of a third body. This force was then either the result ofthe tendency of an ethereal fluid to move from the free regions ofspace, where its density is a maximum, towards the planetary bodiesaround which there exists a greater degree of rarefaction, or theconsequence of the impulsive force of some fluid medium. 

Newton never expressed a definitive opinion respecting the origin of theimpulse which occasioned the attractive force of matter, at least in oursolar system. But we have strong reasons for supposing, in the presentday, that in using the word _impulse_, the great geometer was thinkingof the systematic ideas of Varignon and Fatio de Duillier, subsequentlyreinvented and perfected by Lesage: these ideas, in effect, had beencommunicated to him before they were published to the world. 

According to Lesage, there are, in the regions of space, bodies movingin every possible direction, and with excessive rapidity. The authorapplied to these the name of ultra-mundane corpuscles. Their totalityconstituted the gravitative fluid, if indeed, the designation of a fluidbe applicable to an assemblage of particles having no mutual connexion. 

A single body placed in the midst of such an ocean of movableparticles, would remain at rest although it were impelled equally inevery direction. On the other hand, two bodies ought to advance towardseach other, since they would serve the purpose of mutual screens, sincethe surfaces facing each other would no longer be hit in the directionof their line of junction by the ultra-mundane particles, since therewould then exist currents, the effect of which would no longer beneutralized by opposite currents. It will be easily seen, besides, thattwo bodies plunged into the gravitative fluid, would tend to approacheach other with an intensity which would vary in the inverse proportionof the square of the distance. 

If attraction is the result of the impulse of a fluid, its action oughtto employ a finite time in traversing the immense spaces which separatethe celestial bodies. If the sun, then, were suddenly extinguished, theearth after the catastrophe would, mathematically speaking, stillcontinue for some time to experience its attractive influence. Thecontrary would happen on the occasion of the sudden birth of a planet; acertain time would elapse before the attractive force of the new bodywould make itself felt on the earth. 

Several geometers of the last century were of opinion that the force ofattraction is not transmitted instantaneously from one body to another;they even assigned to it a comparatively inconsiderable velocity ofpropagation. Daniel Bernoulli, for example, in attempting to explain howthe spring tide arrives upon our coasts a day and a half after thesizygees, that is to say, a day and a half after the epochs when the sunand moon are most favourably situated for the production of thismagnificent phenomenon, assumed that the disturbing force required allthis time (a day and a half) for its propagation from the moon to theocean. So feeble a velocity was inconsistent with the mechanicalexplanation of attraction of which we have just spoken. The explanation, in effect, necessarily supposes that the proper motions of the celestialbodies are insensible compared with the motion of the gravitative fluid. 

After having discovered that the diminution of the eccentricity of theterrestrial orbit is the real cause of the observed acceleration of themotion of the moon, Laplace, on his part, endeavoured to ascertainwhether this mysterious acceleration did not depend on the gradualpropagation of attraction. 

The result of calculation was at first favourable to the plausibility ofthe hypothesis. It showed that the gradual propagation of the attractiveforce would introduce into the movement of our satellite a perturbationproportional to the square of the time which elapsed from thecommencement of any epoch; that in order to represent numerically theresults of astronomical observations it would not be necessary to assigna feeble velocity to attraction; that a propagation eight millions oftimes more rapid than that of light would satisfy all the phenomena. 

Although the true cause of the acceleration of the moon is now wellknown, the ingenious calculation of which I have just spoken does notthe less on that account maintain its place in science. In amathematical point of view, the perturbation depending on the gradualpropagation of the attractive force which this calculation indicates hasa certain existence. The connexion between the velocity of perturbationand the resulting inequality is such that one of the two quantitiesleads to a knowledge of the numerical value of the other. Now, uponassigning to the inequality the greatest value which is consistent withthe observations after they have been corrected for the effect due tothe variation of the eccentricity of the terrestrial orbit, we find thevelocity of the attractive force to be fifty millions of times thevelocity of light!

If it be borne in mind, that this number is an inferior limit, and thatthe velocity of the rays of light amounts to 77, 000 leagues (192, 000English miles) per second, the philosophers who profess to explain theforce of attraction by the impulsive energy of a fluid, will see whatprodigious velocities they must satisfy. 

The reader cannot fail again to remark the sagacity with which Laplacesingled out the phenomena which were best adapted for throwing lightupon the most obscure points of celestial physics; nor the success withwhich he explored their various parts, and deduced from them numericalconclusions in presence of which the mind remains confounded. 

The author of the _Mécanique Céleste_ supposed, like Newton, that lightconsists of material molecules of excessive tenuity and endued in emptyspace with a velocity of 77, 000 leagues in a second. However, it isright to warn those who would be inclined to avail themselves of thisimposing authority, that the principal argument of Laplace, in favour ofthe system of emission, consisted in the advantage which it afforded ofsubmitting every question to a process of simple and rigorouscalculation; whereas, on the other hand, the theory of undulations hasalways offered immense difficulties to analysts. It was natural that ageometer who had so elegantly connected the laws of simple refractionwhich light undergoes in its passage through the atmosphere, and thelaws of double refraction which it is subject to in the course of itspassage through certain crystals, with the action of attractive andrepulsive forces, should not have abandoned this route, before herecognized the impossibility of arriving by the same path, at plausibleexplanations of the phenomena of diffraction and polarization. In otherrespects, the care which Laplace always employed, in pursuing hisresearches, as far as possible, to their numerical results, will enablethose who are disposed to institute a complete comparison between thetwo rival theories of light, to derive from the _Mécanique Céleste_ thematerials of several interesting relations. 

Is light an emanation from the sun? Does this body launch outincessantly in every direction a part of its own substance? Is itgradually diminishing in volume and mass? The attraction exercised bythe sun upon the earth will, in that case, gradually become less andless considerable. The radius of the terrestrial orbit, on the otherhand, cannot fail to increase, and a corresponding effect will beproduced on the length of the year. 

This is the conclusion which suggests itself to every person upon afirst glance at the subject. By applying analysis to the question, andthen proceeding to numerical computations, founded upon the mosttrustworthy results of observation relative to the length of the year indifferent ages, Laplace has proved that an incessant emission of light, going on for a period of two thousand years, has not diminished the massof the sun by the two-millionth part of its original value. 

Our illustrious countryman never proposed to himself any thing vague orindefinite. His constant object was the explanation of the greatphenomena of nature, according to the inflexible principles ofmathematical analysis. No philosopher, no mathematician, could havemaintained himself more cautiously on his guard against a propensity tohasty speculation. No person dreaded more the scientific errors whichthe imagination gives birth to, when it ceases to remain within thelimits of facts, of calculation, and of analogy. Once, and once only, did Laplace launch forward, like Kepler, like Descartes, like Leibnitz, like Buffon, into the region of conjectures. His conception was not thenless than a cosmogony. 

All the planets revolve around the sun, from west to east, and in planeswhich include angles of inconsiderable magnitude. 

The satellites revolve around their respective primaries in the samedirection as that in which the planets revolve around the sun, that isto say, from west to east. 

The planets and satellites which have been found to have a rotatorymotion, turn also upon their axes from west to east. Finally, therotation of the sun is directed from west to east. We have here then anassemblage of forty-three movements, all operating in the samedirection. By the calculus of probabilities, the odds are four thousandmillions to one, that this coincidence in the direction of so manymovements is not the effect of accident. 

It was Buffon, I think, who first attempted to explain this singularfeature of our solar system. Having wished, in the explanation ofphenomena, to avoid all recourse to causes which were not warranted bynature, the celebrated academician investigated a physical origin of thesystem in what was common to the movements of so many bodies differingin magnitude, in form, and in distance from the principal centre ofattraction. He imagined that he discovered such an origin by makingthis triple supposition: a comet fell obliquely upon the sun; it pushedbefore it a torrent of fluid matter; this substance transported to agreater or less distance from the sun according to its mass formed byconcentration all the known planets. 

The bold hypothesis of Buffon is liable to insurmountable difficulties. I proceed to indicate, in a few words, the cosmogonic system whichLaplace substituted for that of the illustrious author of the _HistoireNaturelle_. 

According to Laplace, the sun was at a remote epoch the central nucleusof an immense nebula, which possessed a very high temperature, andextended far beyond the region in which Uranus revolves in the presentday. No planet was then in existence. 

The solar nebula was endued with a general movement of revolutiondirected from west to east. As it cooled it could not fail to experiencea gradual condensation, and, in consequence, to rotate with greater andgreater rapidity. If the nebulous matter extended originally in theplane of the equator as far as the limit at which the centrifugal forceexactly counterbalanced the attraction of the nucleus, the moleculessituate at this limit ought, during the process of condensation, toseparate from the rest of the atmospheric matter and form an equatorialzone, a ring revolving separately and with its primitive velocity. Wemay conceive that analogous separations were effected in the higherstrata of the nebula at different epochs, that is to say, at differentdistances from the nucleus, and that they give rise to a succession ofdistinct rings, included almost in the same plane and endued withdifferent velocities. 

This being once admitted, it is easy to see that the indefinitestability of the rings would have required a regularity of structurethroughout their whole contour, which is very improbable. Each of themaccordingly broke in its turn into several masses, which were plainlyendued with a movement of rotation, coinciding in direction with thecommon movement of revolution, and which in consequence of theirfluidity assumed spheroidal forms. 

In order, then, that one of those spheroids might absorb all the othersbelonging to the same ring, it will be sufficient to assign to it a massgreater than that of any other spheroid. 

Each of the planets, while in the vaporous condition to which we havejust alluded, would manifestly have a central nucleus graduallyincreasing in magnitude and mass, and an atmosphere offering, at itssuccessive limits, phenomena entirely similar to those which the solaratmosphere, properly so called, had exhibited. We here witness the birthof satellites, and that of the ring of Saturn. 

The system, of which I have just given an imperfect sketch, has for itsobject to show how a nebula endued with a general movement of rotationmust eventually transform itself into a very luminous central nucleus (asun) and into a series of distinct spheroidal planets, situate atconsiderable distances from each other, revolving all around the centralsun in the direction of the original movement of the nebula; how theseplanets ought also to have movements of rotation operating in similardirections; how, finally, the satellites, when any of such are formed, cannot fail to revolve upon their axes and around their respectiveprimaries, in the direction of rotation of the planets and of theirmovement of revolution around the sun. 

We have just found, conformably to the principles of mechanics, theforces with which the particles of the nebula were originally endued, inthe movements of rotation and revolution of the compact and distinctmasses which these particles have brought into existence by theircondensation. But we have thereby achieved only a single step. Theprimitive movement of rotation of the nebula is not connected with thesimple attraction of the particles. This movement seems to imply theaction of a primordial impulsive force. 

Laplace is far from adopting, in this respect, the almost universalopinion of philosophers and mathematicians. He does not suppose that themutual attractions of originally immovable bodies must ultimately reduceall the bodies to a state of rest around their common centre of gravity. He maintains, on the contrary, that three bodies, in a state of rest, two of which have a much greater mass than the third, would concentrateinto a single mass only in certain exceptional cases. In general, thetwo most considerable bodies would unite together, while the third wouldrevolve around their common centre of gravity. Attraction would thusbecome the cause of a sort of movement which would seem to be explicablesolely by an impulsive force. 

It might be supposed, indeed, that in explaining this part of his systemLaplace had before his eyes the words which Rousseau has placed in themouth of the vicar of Savoy, and that he wished to refute them: "Newtonhas discovered the law of attraction, " says the author of _Emile_, "butattraction alone would soon reduce the universe to an immovable mass:with this law we must combine a projectile force in order to make thecelestial bodies describe curve lines. Let Descartes reveal to us thephysical law which causes his vortices to revolve; and let Newton showus the hand which launched the planets along the tangents of theirorbits. "

According to the cosmogonic ideas of Laplace, comets did not originallyform part of the solar system; they are not formed at the expense of thematter of the immense solar nebula; we must consider them as smallwandering nebulæ which the attractive force of the sun has caused todeviate from their original route. Such of those comets as penetratedinto the great nebula at the epoch of condensation and of the formationof planets fell into the sun, describing spiral curves, and must bytheir action have caused the planetary orbits to deviate more or lessfrom the plane of the solar equator, with which they would otherwisehave exactly coincided. 

With respect to the zodiacal light, that rock against which so manyreveries have been wrecked, it consists of the most volatile parts ofthe primitive nebula. These molecules not having united with theequatorial zones successively abandoned in the plane of the solarequator, continued to revolve at their original distances, and withtheir original velocities. The circumstance of this extremely raresubstance being included wholly within the earth's orbit, and evenwithin that of Venus, seemed irreconcilable with the principles ofmechanics; but this difficulty occurred only when the zodiacal substancebeing conceived to be in a state of direct and intimate dependence onthe solar photosphere properly so called, an angular movement ofrotation was impressed on it equal to that of the photosphere, amovement in virtue of which it effected an entire revolution intwenty-five days and a half. Laplace presented his conjectures on theformation of the solar system with the diffidence inspired by a resultwhich was not founded upon calculation and observation. [39] Perhaps itis to be regretted that they did not receive a more completedevelopment, especially in so far as concerns the division of the matterinto distinct rings; perhaps it would have been desirable if theillustrious author had expressed himself more fully respecting theprimitive physical condition, the molecular condition of the nebula atthe expense of which the sun, planets, and satellites, of our systemwere formed. It is perhaps especially to be regretted that Laplaceshould have only briefly alluded to what he considered the obviouspossibility of movements of revolution having their origin in the actionof simple attractive forces, and to other questions of a similar nature. 

Notwithstanding these defects, the ideas of the author of the _MécaniqueCéleste_ are still the only speculations of the kind which, by theirmagnitude, their coherence, and their mathematical character, may bejustly considered as forming a physical cosmogony; those alone which inthe present day derive a powerful support from the results of the recentresearches of astronomers on the nebulæ of every form and magnitude, which are scattered throughout the celestial vault. 

In this analysis, we have deemed it right to concentrate all ourattention upon the _Mécanique Céleste_. The _Système du Monde_ and the_Théorie Analytique des Probabilités_ would also require detailednotices. 

The _Exposition du Système du Monde_ is the _Mécanique Céleste_ divestedof the great apparatus of analytical formulæ which ought to beattentively perused by every astronomer who, to use an expression ofPlato, is desirous of knowing the numbers which govern the physicaluniverse. It is in the _Exposition du Systéme du Monde_ that personsunacquainted with mathematical studies will obtain an exact andcompetent knowledge of the methods to which physical astronomy isindebted for its astonishing progress. This work, written with a noblesimplicity of style, an exquisite propriety of expression, and ascrupulous accuracy, is terminated by a sketch of the history ofastronomy, universally ranked in the present day among the finestmonuments of the French language. 

A regret has been often expressed, that Cæsar, in his immortal_Commentaries_, should have confined himself to a narration of his owncampaigns: the astronomical commentaries of Laplace ascend to the originof communities. The labours undertaken in all ages for the purpose ofextracting new truths from the heavens, are there justly, clearly, andprofoundly analyzed; it is genius presiding as the impartial judge ofgenius. Laplace has always remained at the height of his great mission;his work will be read with respect so long as the torch of science shallcontinue to throw any light. 

The calculus of probabilities, when confined within just limits, oughtto interest, in an equal degree, the mathematician, the experimentalist, and the statesman. From the time when Pascal and Fermat established itsfirst principles, it has rendered and continues daily to render servicesof the most eminent kind. It is the calculus of probabilities, which, after having suggested the best arrangements of the tables of populationand mortality, teaches us to deduce from those numbers, in general soerroneously interpreted, conclusions of a precise and useful character:it is the calculus of probabilities which alone can regulate justly thepremiums to be paid for assurances; the reserve funds for thedisbursement of pensions, annuities, discounts, &c. : it is under itsinfluence that lotteries, and other shameful snares cunningly laid foravarice and ignorance, have definitively disappeared. Laplace hastreated these questions, and others of a much more complicated nature, with his accustomed superiority. In short, the _Théorie Analytique desProbabilités_ is worthy of the author of the _Mécanique Céleste_. 

A philosopher, whose name is associated with immortal discoveries, saidto his audience who had allowed themselves to be influenced by ancientand consecrated authorities, "Bear in mind, Gentlemen, that in questionsof science the authority of a thousand is not worth the humble reasoningof a single individual. " Two centuries have passed over these words ofGalileo without depreciating their value, or obliterating their truthfulcharacter. Thus, instead of displaying a long list of illustriousadmirers of the three beautiful works of Laplace, we have preferredglancing briefly at some of the sublime truths which geometry has theredeposited. Let us not, however, apply this principle in its utmostrigour, and since chance has put into our hands some unpublished lettersof one of those men of genius, whom nature has endowed with the rarefaculty of seizing at a glance the salient points of an object, we maybe permitted to extract from them two or three brief and characteristicappreciations of the _Mécanique Céleste_ and the _Traité desProbabilités_. 

On the 27th Vendemiaire in the year X. , General Bonaparte, after havingreceived a volume of the _Mécanique Céleste_, wrote to Laplace in thefollowing terms:--"The first _six months_ which I shall have at mydisposal will be employed in reading your beautiful work. " It wouldappear that the words, the first _six months_, deprive the phrase of thecharacter of a common-place expression of thanks, and convey a justappreciation of the importance and difficulty of the subject-matter. 

On the 5th Frimaire in the year XI. , the reading of some chapters of thevolume, which Laplace had dedicated to him, was to the general "a newoccasion for regretting, that the force of circumstances had directedhim into a career which removed him from the pursuit of science. "

"At all events, " added he, "I have a strong desire that futuregenerations, upon reading the _Mécanique Céleste_, shall not forget theesteem and friendship which I have entertained towards its author. "

On the 17th Prairial in the year XIII. , the general, now become emperor, wrote from Milan: "The _Mécanique Céleste_ appears to me destined toshed new lustre on the age in which we live. "

Finally, on the 12th of August, 1812, Napoleon, who had just receivedthe _Traité du Calcul des Probabilités_, wrote from Witepsk the letterwhich we transcribe textually:--

"There was a time when I would have read with interest your _Traité duCalcul des Probabilités_. For the present I must confine myself toexpressing to you the satisfaction which I experience every time that Isee you give to the world new works which serve to improve and extendthe most important of the sciences, and contribute to the glory of thenation. The advancement and the improvement of mathematical science areconnected with the prosperity of the state. "

I have now arrived at the conclusion of the task which I had imposedupon myself. I shall be pardoned for having given so detailed anexposition of the principal discoveries for which philosophy, astronomy, and navigation are indebted to our geometers. 

It has appeared to me that in thus tracing the glorious past I haveshown our contemporaries the full extent of their duty towards thecountry. In fact, it is for nations especially to bear in remembrancethe ancient adage: _noblesse obligé_!

FOOTNOTES:

[22] The author here refers to the series of biographies contained intome III. Of the _Notices Biographiques_. --_Translator_. 

[23] These celebrated laws, known in astronomy as the laws of Kepler, are three in number. The first law is, that the planets describeellipses around the sun in their common focus; the second, that a linejoining the planet and the sun sweeps over equal areas in equal times;the third, that the squares of the periodic times of the planets areproportional to the cubes of their mean distances from the sun. Thefirst two laws were discovered by Kepler in the course of a laboriousexamination of the theory of the planet Mars; a full account of thisinquiry is contained in his famous work _De Stella Martis_, published in1609. The discovery of the third law was not effected until, severalyears afterwards, Kepler announced it to the world in his treatise onHarmonics (1628). The passage quoted below is extracted from thatwork. --_Translator_. 

[24] The spheroidal figure of the earth was established by thecomparison of an arc of the meridian that had been measured in France, with a similar arc measured in Lapland, from which it appeared that thelength of a degree of the meridian increases from the equator towardsthe poles, conformably to what ought to result upon the supposition ofthe earth having the figure of an oblate spheroid. The length of theLapland arc was determined by means of an expedition which the FrenchGovernment had despatched to the North of Europe for that purpose. Asimilar expedition had been despatched from France about the same timeto Peru in South America, for the purpose of measuring an arc of themeridian under the equator, but the results had not been ascertained atthe time to which the author alludes in the text. The variation ofgravity at the surface of the earth was established by Richer'sexperiments with the pendulum at Cayenne, in South America (1673-4), from which it appeared that the pendulum oscillates more slowly--andconsequently the force of gravity is less intense--under the equatorthan in the latitude of Paris. --_Translator_. 

[25] It may perhaps be asked why we place Lagrange among the Frenchgeometers? This is our reply: It appears to us that the individual whowas named Lagrange Tournier, two of the most characteristic French nameswhich it is possible to imagine, whose maternal grandfather was M. Gros, whose paternal great-grandfather was a French officer, a native ofParis, who never wrote except in French, and who was invested in ourcountry with high honours during a period of nearly thirty years;--oughtto be regarded as a Frenchman although born at Turin. --_Author_. 

[26] The problem of three bodies was solved independently about the sametime by Euler, D'Alembert, and Clairaut. The two last-mentionedgeometers communicated their solutions to the Academy of Sciences on thesame day, November 15, 1747. Euler had already in 1746 published tablesof the moon, founded on his solution of the same problem, the details ofwhich he subsequently published in 1753. --_Translator_. 

[27] It must be admitted that M. Arago has here imperfectly representedNewton's labours on the great problem of the precession of theequinoxes. The immortal author of the Principia did not merely_conjecture_ that the conical motion of the earth's axis is due to thedisturbing action of the sun and moon upon the matter accumulated aroundthe earth's equator: he _demonstrated_ by a very beautiful andsatisfactory process that the movement must necessarily arise from thatcause; and although the means of investigation, in his time, wereinadequate to a rigorous computation of the quantitative effect, still, his researches on the subject have been always regarded as affording oneof the most striking proofs of sagacity which is to be found in all hisworks. --_Translator_. 

[28] It would appear that Hooke had conjectured that the figure of theearth might be spheroidal before Newton or Huyghens turned theirattention to the subject. At a meeting of the Royal Society on the 28thof February, 1678, a discussion arose respecting the figure of Mercurywhich M. Gallet of Avignon had remarked to be oval on the occasion ofthe planet's transit across the sun's disk on the 7th of November, 1677. Hooke was inclined to suppose that the phenomenon was real, and that itwas due to the whirling of the planet on an axis "which made it somewhatof the shape of a turnip, or of a solid made by an ellipsis turned roundupon its shorter diameter. " At the meeting of the Society on the 7th ofMarch, the subject was again discussed. In reply to the objectionoffered to his hypothesis on the ground of the planet being a solidbody, Hooke remarked that "although it might now be solid, yet that atthe beginning it might have been fluid enough to receive that shape; andthat although this supposition should not be granted, it would beprobable enough that it would really run into that shape and make thesame appearance; _and that it is not improbable but that the water hereupon the earth might do it in some measure by the influence of thediurnal motion, which, compounded with that of the moon, he conceived tobe the cause of the Tides_. " (Journal Book of the Royal Society, vol. Vi. P. 60. ) Richer returned from Cayenne in the year 1674, but theaccount of his observations with the pendulum during his residencethere, was not published until 1679, nor is there to be found anyallusion to them during the intermediate interval, either in the volumesof the Academy of Sciences or any other publication. We have no means ofascertaining how Newton was first induced to suppose that the figure ofthe earth is spheroidal, but we know, upon his own authority, that asearly as the year 1667, or 1668, he was led to consider the effects ofthe centrifugal force in diminishing the weight of bodies at theequator. With respect to Huyghens, he appears to have formed aconjecture respecting the spheroidal figure of the earth independentlyof Newton; but his method for computing the ellipticity is founded uponthat given in the Principia. --_Translator_. 

[29] Newton assumed that a homogeneous fluid mass of a spheroidal formwould be in equilibrium if it were endued with an adequate rotatorymotion and its constituent particles attracted each other in the inverseproportion of the square of the distance. Maclaurin first demonstratedthe truth of this theorem by a rigorous application of the ancientgeometry. --_Translator_. 

[30] The results of Clairaut's researches on the figure of the earth aremainly embodied in a remarkable theorem discovered by that geometer, andwhich may be enunciated thus:--_The sum of the fractions expressing theellipticity and the increase of gravity at the pole is equal to two anda half times the fraction expressing the centrifugal force at theequator, the unit of force being represented by the force of gravity atthe equator. _ This theorem is independent of any hypothesis with respectto the law of the densities of the successive strata of the earth. Nowthe increase of gravity at the pole may be ascertained by means ofobservations with the pendulum in different latitudes. Hence it is plainthat Clairaut's theorem furnishes a practical method for determining thevalue of the earth's ellipticity. --_Translator_. 

[31] The researches on the secular variations of the eccentricities andinclinations of the planetary orbits depend upon the solution of analgebraic equation equal in degree to the number of planets whose mutualaction is considered, and the coefficients of which involve the valuesof the masses of those bodies. It may be shown that if the roots of thisequation be equal or imaginary, the corresponding element, whether theeccentricity or the inclination, will increase indefinitely with thetime in the case of each planet; but that if the roots, on the otherhand, be real and unequal, the value of the element will oscillate inevery instance within fixed limits. Laplace proved by a generalanalysis, that the roots of the equation are real and unequal, whence itfollowed that neither the eccentricity nor the inclination will vary inany case to an indefinite extent. But it still remained uncertain, whether the limits of oscillation were not in any instance so far apartthat the variation of the element (whether the eccentricity or theinclination) might lead to a complete destruction of the existingphysical condition of the planet. Laplace, indeed, attempted to prove, by means of two well-known theorems relative to the eccentricities andinclinations of the planetary orbits, that if those elements were oncesmall, they would always remain so, provided the planets all revolvedaround the sun in one common direction and their masses wereinconsiderable. It is to these theorems that M. Arago manifestly alludesin the text. Le Verrier and others have, however, remarked that they areinadequate to assure the permanence of the existing physical conditionof several of the planets. In order to arrive at a definitive conclusionon this subject, it is indispensable to have recourse to the actualsolution of the algebraic equation above referred to. This was thecourse adopted by the illustrious Lagrange in his researches on thesecular variations of the planetary orbits. (_Mem. Acad. Berlin_, 1783-4. ) Having investigated the values of the masses of the planets, hethen determined, by an approximate solution, the values of the severalroots of the algebraic equation upon which the variations of theeccentricities and inclinations of the orbits depended. In this way, hefound the limiting values of the eccentricity and inclination for theorbit of each of the principal planets of the system. The resultsobtained by that great geometer have been mainly confirmed by the recentresearches of Le Verrier on the same subject. (_Connaissance des Temps_, 1843. )--_Translator_. 

[32] Laplace was originally led to consider the subject of theperturbations of the mean motions of the planets by his researches onthe theory of Jupiter and Saturn. Having computed the numerical value ofthe secular inequality affecting the mean motion of each of thoseplanets, neglecting the terms of the fourth and higher orders relativeto the eccentricities and inclinations, he found it to be so small thatit might be regarded as totally insensible. Justly suspecting that thiscircumstance was not attributable to the particular values of theelements of Jupiter and Saturn, he investigated the expression for thesecular perturbation of the mean motion by a general analysis, neglecting, as before, the fourth and higher powers of theeccentricities and inclinations, and he found in this case, that theterms which were retained in the investigation absolutely destroyed eachother, so that the expression was reduced to zero. In a memoir which hecommunicated to the Berlin Academy of Sciences, in 1776, Lagrange firstshowed that the mean distance (and consequently the mean motion) was notaffected by any secular inequalities, no matter what were theeccentricities or inclinations of the disturbing and disturbedplanets. --_Translator_. 

[33] Mr. Adams has recently detected a remarkable oversight committed byLaplace and his successors in the analytical investigation of theexpression for this inequality. The effect of the rectification renderednecessary by the researches of Mr. Adams will be to diminish by aboutone sixth the coefficient of the principal term of the secularinequality. This coefficient has for its multiplier the square of thenumber of centuries which have elapsed from a given epoch; its value wasfound by Laplace to be 10". 18. Mr. Adams has ascertained that it must bediminished by 1". 66. This result has recently been verified by theresearches of M. Plana. Its effect will be to alter in some degree thecalculations of ancient eclipses. The Astronomer Royal has stated in hislast Annual Report, to the Board of Visitors of the Royal Observatory, (June 7, 1856, ) that steps have recently been taken at the Observatory, for calculating the various circumstances of those phenomena, upon thebasis of the more correct data furnished by the researches of Mr. Adams. --_Translator_. 

[34] [Illustration]

The origin of this famous inequality may be best understood by referenceto the mode in which the disturbing forces operate. Let P Q R, P' Q' R'represent the orbits of Jupiter and Saturn, and let us suppose, for thesake of illustration, that they are both situate in the same plane. Letthe planets be in conjunction at P, P', and let them both be revolvingaround the sun S, in the direction represented by the arrows. Assumingthat the mean motion of Jupiter is to that of Saturn exactly in theproportion of five to two, it follows that when Jupiter has completedone revolution, Saturn will have advanced through two fifths of arevolution. Similarly, when Jupiter has completed a revolution and ahalf, Saturn will have effected three fifths of a revolution. Hence whenJupiter arrives at T, Saturn will be a little in advance of T'. Let ussuppose that the two planets come again into conjunction at Q, Q'. It isplain that while Jupiter has completed one revolution, and, advancedthrough the angle P S Q (measured in the direction of the arrow), Saturnhas simply described around S the angle P' S' Q'. Hence the _excess_ ofthe angle described around S, by Jupiter, over the angle similarlydescribed by Saturn, will amount to one complete revolution, or, 360°. But since the mean motions of the two planets are in the proportion offive to two, the angles described by them around S in any given timewill be in the same proportion, and therefore the _excess_ of the angledescribed by Jupiter over that described by Saturn will be to the angledescribed by Saturn in the proportion of three to two. But we have justfound that the excess of these two angles in the present case amounts to360°, and the angle described by Saturn is represented by P' S' Q';consequently 360° is to the angle P' S' Q' in the proportion of three totwo, in other words P' S' Q' is equal to two thirds of the circumferenceor 240°. In the same way it may be shown that the two planets will comeinto conjunction again at R, when Saturn has described another arc of240°. Finally, when Saturn has advanced through a third arc of 240°, thetwo planets will come into conjunction at P, P', the points whence theyoriginally set out; and the two succeeding conjunctions will alsomanifestly occur at Q, Q' and R, R'. Thus we see, that the conjunctionswill always occur in three given points of the orbit of each planetsituate at angular distances of 120° from each other. It is alsoobvious, that during the interval which elapses between the occurrenceof two conjunctions in the same points of the orbits, and which includesthree synodic revolutions of the planets, Jupiter will have accomplishedfive revolutions around the sun, and Saturn will have accomplished tworevolutions. Now if the orbits of both planets were perfectly circular, the retarding and accelerating effects of the disturbing force of eitherplanet would neutralize each other in the course of a synodicrevolution, and therefore both planets would return to the samecondition at each successive conjunction. But in consequence of theellipticity of the orbits, the retarding effect of the disturbing forceis manifestly no longer exactly compensated by the accelerative effect, and hence at the close of each synodic revolution, there remains aminute outstanding alteration in the movement of each planet. A similareffect will he produced at each of the three points of conjunction; andas the perturbations which thus ensue do not generally compensate eachother, there will remain a minute outstanding perturbation as the resultof every three conjunctions. The effect produced being of the same kind(whether tending to accelerate or retard the movement of the planet) forevery such triple conjunction, it is plain that the action of thedisturbing forces would ultimately lead to a serious derangement of themovements of both planets. All this is founded on the supposition thatthe mean motions of the two planets are to each other as two to five;but in reality, this relation does not exactly hold. In fact whileJupiter requires 21, 663 days to accomplish five revolutions, Saturneffects two revolutions in 21, 518 days. Hence when Jupiter, aftercompleting his fifth revolution, arrives at P, Saturn will have advanceda little beyond P', and the conjunction of the two planets will occur atP, P' when they have both described around S an additional arc of about8°. In the same way it may be shown that the two succeeding conjunctionswill take place at the points _q, q', r, r'_ respectively 8° in advanceof Q, Q', R, R'. Thus we see that the points of conjunction will travelwith extreme slowness in the same direction as that in which the planetsrevolve. Now since the angular distance between P and R is 120°, andsince in a period of three synodic revolutions or 21, 758 days, the lineof conjunction travels through an arc of 8°, it follows that in 892years the conjunction of the two planets will have advanced from P, P'to R, R'. In reality, the time of travelling from P, P' to R, R' issomewhat longer from the indirect effects of planetary perturbation, amounting to 920 years. In an equal period of time the conjunction ofthe two planets will advance from Q, Q' to R, R' and from R, R' to P, P'. During the half of this period the perturbative effect resultingfrom every triple conjunction will lie constantly in one direction, andduring the other half it will lie in the contrary direction; that is tosay, during a period of 460 years the mean motion of the disturbedplanet will be continually accelerated, and, in like manner, during anequal period it will be continually retarded. In the case of Jupiterdisturbed by Saturn, the inequality in longitude amounts at its maximumto 21'; in the converse case of Saturn disturbed by Jupiter, theinequality is more considerable in consequence of the greater mass ofthe disturbing planet, amounting at its maximum to 49'. In accordancewith the mechanical principle of the equality of action and reaction, ithappens that while the mean motion of one planet is increasing, that ofthe other is diminishing, and _vice versâ_. We have supposed that theorbits of both planets are situate in the same plane. In reality, however, they are inclined to each other, and this circumstance willproduce an effect exactly analogous to that depending on theeccentricities of the orbits. It is plain that the more nearly the meanmotions of the two planets approach a relation of commensurability, thesmaller will be the displacement of every third conjunction, andconsequently the longer will be the duration, and the greater theultimate accumulation, of the inequality. --_Translator_. 

[35] The utility of observations of the transits of the inferior planetsfor determining the solar parallax, was first pointed out by JamesGregory (_Optica Promota_, 1663). --_Translator_. 

[36] Mayer, from the principles of gravitation (_Theoria Lunæ_, 1767), computed the value of the solar parallax to be 7". 8. He remarked thatthe error of this determination did not amount to one twentieth of thewhole, whence it followed that the true value of the parallax could notexceed 8". 2. Laplace, by an analogous process, determined the parallaxto be 8". 45. Encke, by a profound discussion of the observations of thetransits of Venus in 1761 and 1769, found the value of the same elementto be 8". 5776. --_Translator_. 

[37] The theoretical researches of Laplace formed the basis ofBurckhardt's Lunar Tables, which are chiefly employed in computing theplaces of the moon for the Nautical Almanac and other Ephemerides. Thesetables were defaced by an empiric equation, suggested for the purpose ofrepresenting an inequality of long period which seemed to affect themean longitude of the moon. No satisfactory explanation of the origin ofthis inequality could be discovered by any geometer, although it formedthe subject of much toilsome investigation throughout the presentcentury, until at length M. Hansen found it to arise from a combinationof two inequalities due to the disturbing action of Venus. The period ofone of these inequalities is 273 years, and that of the other is 239years. The maximum value of the former is 27". 4, and that of the latteris 23". 2. --_Translator_. 

[38] This law is necessarily included in the law already enunciated bythe author relative to the mean longitudes. The following is the mostusual mode of expressing these curious relations: 1st, the mean motionof the first satellite, plus twice the mean motion of the third, minusthree times the mean motion of the second, is rigorously equal to zero;2d, the mean longitude of the first satellite, plus twice the meanlongitude of the third, minus three times the mean longitude of thesecond, is equal to 180°. It is plain that if we only consider the meanlongitude here to refer to a _given epoch_, the combination of the twolaws will assure the existence of an analogous relation between the meanlongitudes _for any instant of time whatever_, whether past or future. Laplace has shown, as the author has stated in the text, that if theserelations had only been approximately true at the origin, the mutualattraction of the three satellites would have ultimately rendered themrigorously so; under such circumstances, the mean longitude of the firstsatellite, plus twice the mean longitude of the third, minus three timesthe mean longitude of the second, would continually oscillate about 180°as a mean value. The three satellites would participate in thislibratory movement, the extent of oscillation depending in each case onthe mass of the satellite and its distance from the primary, but theperiod of libration is the same for all the satellites, amounting to2, 270 days 18 hours, or rather more than six years. Observations of theeclipses of the satellites have not afforded any indications of theactual existence of such a libratory motion, so that the relationsbetween the mean motions and mean longitudes may be presumed to bealways rigorously true. --_Translator_. 

[39] Laplace has explained this theory in his _Exposition du Système duMonde_ (liv. Iv. Note vii. ). --_Translator_. 

APPENDIX. 

(A. )

THE FOLLOWING IS A BRIEF NOTICE OF SOME OTHER INTERESTING RESULTS OF THERESEARCHES OF LAPLACE WHICH HAVE NOT BEEN MENTIONED IN THE TEXT. 

_Method for determining the orbits of comets. _--Since comets aregenerally visible only during a few days or weeks at the utmost, thedetermination of their orbits is attended with peculiar difficulties. The method devised by Newton for effecting this object was in everyrespect worthy of his genius. Its practical value was illustrated by thebrilliant researches of Halley on cometary orbits. It necessitated, however, a long train of tedious calculations, and, in consequence, wasnot much used, astronomers generally preferring to attain the same endby a tentative process. In the year 1780, Laplace communicated to theAcademy of Sciences an analytical method for determining the elements ofa comet's orbit. This method has been extensively employed in France. Indeed, previously to the appearance of Olber's method, about the closeof the last century, it furnished the easiest and most expeditiousprocess hitherto devised, for calculating the parabolic elements of acomet's orbit. 

_Invariable plane of the solar system. _--In consequence of the mutualperturbations of the different bodies of the planetary system, theplanes of the orbits in which they revolve are perpetually varying inposition. It becomes therefore desirable to ascertain some fixed planeto which the movements of the planets in all ages may be referred, sothat the observations of one epoch might be rendered readily comparablewith those of another. This object was accomplished by Laplace, whodiscovered that notwithstanding the perpetual fluctuations of theplanetary orbits, there exists a fixed plane, to which the positions ofthe various bodies may at any instant be easily referred. This planepasses through the centre of gravity of the solar system, and itsposition is such, that if the movements of the planets be projected uponit, and if the mass of each planet be multiplied by the area which itdescribes in a given time, the sum of such products will be a maximum. The position of the plane for the year 1750 has been calculated byreferring it to the ecliptic of that year. In this way it has been foundthat the inclination of the plane is 1° 35' 31", and that the longitudeof the ascending node is 102° 57' 30". The position of the plane whencalculated for the year 1950, with respect to the ecliptic of 1750, gives 1° 35' 31" for the inclination, and 102° 57' 15" for the longitudeof the ascending node. It will be seen that a very satisfactoryaccordance exists between the elements of the position of the invariableplane for the two epochs. 

_Diminution of the obliquity of the ecliptic. _--The astronomers of theeighteenth century had found, by a comparison of ancient with modernobservations, that the obliquity of the ecliptic is slowly diminishingfrom century to century. The researches of geometers on the theory ofgravitation had shown that an effect of this kind must be produced bythe disturbing action of the planets on the earth. Laplace determinedthe secular displacement of the plane of the earth's orbit due to eachof the planets, and in this way ascertained the whole effect ofperturbation upon the obliquity of the ecliptic. A comparison which heinstituted between the results of his formula and an ancient observationrecorded in the Chinese Annals exhibited a most satisfactory accordance. The observation in question indicated the obliquity of the ecliptic forthe year 1100 before the Christian era, to be 23° 54' 2". 5. According tothe principles of the theory of gravitation, the obliquity for the sameepoch would be 23° 51' 30". 

_Limits of the obliquity of the ecliptic modified by the action of thesun and moon upon the terrestrial spheroid. _--The ecliptic will notcontinue indefinitely to approach the equator. After attaining a certainlimit it will then vary in the opposite direction, and the obliquitywill continually increase in like manner as it previously diminished. Finally, the inclination of the equator and the ecliptic will attain acertain maximum value, and then the obliquity will again diminish. Thusthe angle contained between the two planes will perpetually oscillatewithin certain limits. The extent of variation is inconsiderable. Laplace found that, in consequence of the spheroidal figure of theearth, it is even less than it would otherwise have been. This will bereadily understood, when we state that the disturbing action of the sunand moon upon the terrestrial spheroid produces an oscillation of theearth's axis which occasions a periodic variation of the obliquity ofthe ecliptic. Now, as the plane of the ecliptic approaches the equator, the mean disturbing action of the sun and moon upon the redundant matteraccumulated around the latter will undergo a corresponding variation, and hence will arise an inconceivably slow movement of the plane of theequator, which will necessarily affect the obliquity of the ecliptic. Laplace found that if it were not for this cause, the obliquity of theecliptic would oscillate to the extent of 4° 53' 33" on each side of amean value, but that when the movements of both planes are taken intoaccount, the extent of oscillation is reduced to 1° 33' 45". 

_Variation of the length of the tropical year. _--The disturbing actionof the sun and moon upon the terrestrial spheroid occasions a continual_regression_ of the equinoctial points, and hence arises the distinctionbetween the sidereal and tropical year. The effect is modified in asmall degree by the variation of the plane of the ecliptic, which tendsto produce a _progression_ of the equinoxes. If the movement of theequinoctial points arising from these combined causes was uniform, thelength of the tropical year would be manifestly invariable. Theory, however, indicates that for ages past the rate of regression has beenslowly increasing, and, consequently, the length of the tropical yearhas been gradually diminishing. The rate of diminution is exceedinglysmall. Laplace found that it amounts to somewhat less than half a secondin a century. Consequently, the length of the tropical year is now aboutten seconds less than it was in the time of Hipparchus. 

_Limits of variation of the tropical year modified by the disturbingaction of the sun and moon upon the terrestrial spheroid. _--The tropicalyear will not continue indefinitely to diminish in length. When it hasonce attained a certain minimum value, it will then increase untilfinally having attained an extreme value in the opposite direction, itwill again begin to diminish, and thus it will perpetually oscillatebetween certain fixed limits. Laplace found that the extent to which thetropical year is liable to vary from this cause, amounts to thirty-eightseconds. If it were not for the effect produced upon the inclination ofthe equator to the ecliptic by the mean disturbing action of the sun andmoon upon the terrestrial spheroid, the extent of variation would amountto 162 seconds. 

_Motion of the perihelion of the terrestrial orbit. _--The major axis ofthe orbit of each planet is in a state of continual movement from thedisturbing action of the other planets. In some cases, it makes thecomplete tour of the heavens; in others, it merely oscillates around amean position. In the case of the earth's orbit, the perihelion isslowly advancing in the same direction as that in which all the planetsare revolving around the sun. The alteration of its position withrespect to the stars amounts to about 11" in a year, but since theequinox is regressing in the opposite direction at the rate of 50" in ayear, the whole annual variation of the longitude of the terrestrialperihelion amounts to 61". Laplace has considered two remarkable epochsin connection with this fact; viz: the epoch at which the major axis ofthe earth's orbit coincided with the line of the equinoxes, and theepoch at which it stood perpendicular to that line. By calculation, hefound the former of these epochs to be referable to the year 4107, B. C. , and the latter to the year 1245, A. D. He accordingly suggestedthat the latter should be used as a universal epoch for the regulationof chronological occurrences. 

(B. )

The _Mécanique Céleste_. --This stupendous monument of intellectualresearch consists, as stated by the author, of five quarto volumes. Thesubject-matter is divided into sixteen books, and each book again issubdivided into several chapters. Vol. I. Contains the first and secondbooks of the work; Vol. II. Contains the third, fourth, and fifth books;Vol. III. Contains the sixth and seventh books; Vol. IV. Contains theeighth, ninth, and tenth books; and, finally, Vol. V. Contains theremaining six books. In the first book the author treats of the generallaws of equilibrium and motion. In the second book he treats of the lawof gravitation, and the movements of the centres of gravity of thecelestial bodies. In the third book he investigates the subject of thefigures of the celestial bodies. In the fourth book he considers theoscillations of the ocean and the atmosphere, arising from thedisturbing action of the celestial bodies. The fifth book is devoted tothe investigation of the movements of the celestial bodies around theircentres of gravity. In this book the author gives a solution of thegreat problems of the precession of the equinoxes and the libration ofthe moon, and determines the conditions upon which the stability ofSaturn's ring depends. The sixth book is devoted to the theory of theplanetary movements; the seventh, to the lunar theory; the eighth, tothe theory of the satellites of Jupiter, Saturn, and Uranus; and theninth, to the theory of comets. In the tenth book the authorinvestigates various subjects relating to the system of the universe. Among these may be mentioned the theory of astronomical refractions;the determination of heights by the barometer; the investigation of theeffects produced on the movements of the planets and comets by aresisting medium; and the determination of the values of the masses ofthe planets and satellites. In the six books forming the fifth volume ofthe work, the author, besides presenting his readers with an historicalexposition of the labours of Newton and his successors on the theory ofgravitation, gives an account of various researches relative to thesystem of the universe, which had occupied his attention subsequently tothe publication of the previous volumes. In the eleventh book heconsiders the subjects of the figure and rotation of the earth. In thetwelfth book he investigates the attraction and repulsion of spheres, and the laws of equilibrium and motion of elastic fluids. The thirteenthbook is devoted to researches on the oscillations of the fluids whichcover the surfaces of the planets; the fourteenth, to the subject of themovements of the celestial bodies around their centres of gravity; thefifteenth, to the movements of the planets and comets; and thesixteenth, to the movements of the satellites. The author published asupplement to the third volume, containing the results of certainresearches on the planetary theory, and a supplement to the tenth book, in which he investigates very fully the theory of capillary attraction. There was also published a posthumous supplement to the fifth volume, the manuscript of which was found among his papers after his death. 

JOSEPH FOURIER. 

BIOGRAPHY READ AT A PUBLIC ASSEMBLY OF THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCES, ON THE18TH OF NOVEMBER, 1833. 

Gentlemen, --In former times one academician differed from another onlyin the number, the nature, and the brilliancy of his discoveries. Theirlives, thrown in some respects into the same mould, consisted of eventslittle worthy of remark. A boyhood more or less studious; progresssometimes slow, sometimes rapid; inclinations thwarted by capricious orshortsighted parents; inadequacy of means, the privations which itintroduces in its train; thirty years of a laborious professorship anddifficult studies, --such were the elements from which the admirabletalents of the early secretaries of the Academy were enabled to executethose portraits, so piquant, so lively, and so varied, which form one ofthe principal ornaments of your learned collections. 

In the present day, biographies are less confined in their object. Theconvulsions which France has experienced in emancipating herself fromthe swaddling-clothes of routine, of superstition and of privilege, havecast into the storms of political life citizens of all ages, of allconditions, and of all characters. Thus has the Academy of Sciencesfigured during forty years in the devouring arena, wherein might andright have alternately seized the supreme power by a glorious sacrificeof combatants and victims!

Recall to mind, for example, the immortal National Assembly. You willfind at its head a modest academician, a patern of all the privatevirtues, the unfortunate Bailly, who, in the different phases of hispolitical life, knew how to reconcile a passionate affection for hiscountry with a moderation which his most cruel enemies themselves havebeen compelled to admire. 

When, at a later period, coalesced Europe launched against France amillion of soldiers; when it became necessary to organize for the crisisfourteen armies, it was the ingenious author of the _Essai sur lesMachines_ and of the _Géométrie des Positions_ who directed thisgigantic operation. It was, again, Carnot, our honourable colleague, whopresided over the incomparable campaign of seventeen months, duringwhich French troops, novices in the profession of arms, gained eightpitched battles, were victorious in one hundred and forty combats, occupied one hundred and sixteen fortified places and two hundred andthirty forts or redoubts, enriched our arsenals with four thousandcannon and seventy thousand muskets, took a hundred thousand prisoners, and adorned the dome of the Invalides with ninety flags. During the sametime the Chaptals, the Fourcroys, the Monges, the Berthollets rushedalso to the defence of French independence, some of them extracting fromour soil, by prodigies of industry, the very last atoms of saltpetrewhich it contained; others transforming, by the aid of new and rapidmethods, the bells of the towns, villages, and smallest hamlets into aformidable artillery, which our enemies supposed, as indeed they had aright to suppose, we were deprived of. At the voice of his country indanger, another academician, the young and learned Meunier, readilyrenounced the seductive pursuits of the laboratory; he went todistinguish himself upon the ramparts of Königstein, to contribute as ahero to the long defence of Mayence, and met his death, at the age offorty years only, after having attained the highest position in agarrison wherein shone the Aubert-Dubayets, the Beaupuys, the Haxos, theKlebers. 

How could I forget here the last secretary of the original Academy?Follow him into a celebrated Assembly, into that Convention, thesanguinary delirium of which we might almost be inclined to pardon, whenwe call to mind how gloriously terrible it was to the enemies of ourindependence, and you will always see the illustrious Condorcet occupiedexclusively with the great interests of reason and humanity. You willhear him denounce the shameful brigandage which for two centuries laidwaste the African continent by a system of corruption; demand in a toneof profound conviction that the Code be purified of the frightful stainof capital punishment, which renders the error of the judge for everirreparable. He is the official organ of the Assembly on every occasionwhen it is necessary to address soldiers, citizens, political parties, or foreign nations in language worthy of France; he is not the tacticianof any party, he incessantly entreats all of them to occupy theirattention less with their own interests and a little more with publicmatters; he replies, finally, to unjust reproaches of weakness by actswhich leave him the only alternative of the poison cup or the scaffold. 

The French Revolution thus threw the learned geometer, whose discoveriesI am about to celebrate, far away from the route which destiny appearedto have traced out for him. In ordinary times it would be about Dom[40]Joseph Fourier that the secretary of the Academy would have deemed ithis duty to have occupied your attention. It would be the tranquil, theretired life of a Benedictine which he would have unfolded to you. Thelife of our colleague, on the contrary, will be agitated and full ofperils; it will pass into the fierce contentions of the forum and amidthe hazards of war; it will be a prey to all the anxieties whichaccompany a difficult administration. We shall find this life intimatelyassociated with the great events of our age. Let us hasten to add, thatit will be always worthy and honourable, and that the personal qualitiesof the man of science will enhance the brilliancy of his discoveries. 

FOOTNOTE:

[40] An abbreviation of Dominus, equivalent to the English prefixReverend. --_Translator_. 

BIRTH OF FOURIER. --HIS YOUTH. 

Fourier was born at Auxerre on the 21st of March, 1768. His father, likethat of the illustrious geometer Lambert, was a tailor. Thiscircumstance would formerly have occupied a large place in the _éloge_of our learned colleague; thanks to the progress of enlightened ideas, Imay mention the circumstance as a fact of no importance: nobody, ineffect, thinks in the present day, nobody even pretends to think, thatgenius is the privilege of rank or fortune. 

Fourier became an orphan at the age of eight years. A lady who hadremarked the amiability of his manners and his precocious naturalabilities, recommended him to the Bishop of Auxerre. Through theinfluence of this prelate, Fourier was admitted into the military schoolwhich was conducted at that time by the Benedictines of the Convent ofSt. Mark. There he prosecuted his literary studies with surprisingrapidity and success. Many sermons very much applauded at Paris in themouth of high dignitaries of the Church were emanations from the pen ofthe schoolboy of twelve years of age. It would be impossible in thepresent day to trace those first compositions of the youth Fourier, since, while divulging the plagiarism, he had the discretion never toname those who profited by it. 

At thirteen years Fourier had the petulance, the noisy vivacity of mostyoung people of the same age; but his character changed all at once, andas if by enchantment, as soon as he was initiated in the firstprinciples of mathematics, that is to say, as soon as he became sensibleof his real vocation. The hours prescribed for study no longer sufficedto gratify his insatiable curiosity. Ends of candles carefully collectedin the kitchen, the corridors and the refectory of the college, andplaced on a hearth concealed by a screen, served during the night toilluminate the solitary studies by which Fourier prepared himself forthose labours which were destined, a few years afterwards, to adorn hisname and his country. 

In a military school directed by monks, the minds of the pupilsnecessarily waver only between two careers in life--the church and thesword. Like Descartes, Fourier wished to be a soldier; like thatphilosopher, he would doubtless have found the life of a garrison verywearisome. But he was not permitted to make the experiment. His demandto undergo the examination for the artillery, although stronglysupported by our illustrious colleague Legendre, was rejected with aseverity of expression of which you may judge yourselves: "Fourier, "replied the minister, "not being noble, could not enter the artillery, although he were a second Newton. "

Gentlemen, there is in the strict enforcement of regulations, even whenthey are most absurd, something respectable which I have a pleasure inrecognizing; in the present instance nothing could soften the odiouscharacter of the minister's words. It is not true in reality that no onecould formerly enter into the artillery who did not possess a title ofnobility; a certain fortune frequently supplied the want of parchments. Thus it was not a something undefinable, which, by the way, ourancestors the Franks had not yet invented, that was wanting to youngFourier, but rather an income of a few hundred livres, which the men whowere then placed at the head of the country would have refused toacknowledge the genius of Newton as a just equivalent for! Treasure upthese facts, Gentlemen; they form an admirable illustration of theimmense advances which France has made during the last forty years. Posterity, moreover, will see in this, not the excuse, but theexplanation of some of those sanguinary dissensions which stained ourfirst revolution. 

Fourier not having been enabled to gird on the sword, assumed the habitof a Benedictine, and repaired to the Abbey of St. Benoît-sur-Loire, where he intended to pass the period of his noviciate. He had not yettaken any vows when, in 1789, every mind was captivated with beautifullyseductive ideas relative to the social regeneration of France. Fouriernow renounced the profession of the Church; but this circumstance didnot prevent his former masters from appointing him to the principalchair of mathematics in the Military School of Auxerre, and bestowingupon him numerous tokens of a lively and sincere affection. I venture toassert that no event in the life of our colleague affords a morestriking proof of the goodness of his natural disposition and theamiability of his manners. It would be necessary not to know the humanheart to suppose that the monks of St. Benoît did not feel some chagrinupon finding themselves so abruptly abandoned, to imagine especiallythat they should give up without lively regret the glory which the ordermight have expected from the ingenious colleague who had just escapedfrom them. 

Fourier responded worthily to the confidence of which he had just becomethe object. When his colleagues were indisposed, the titular professorof mathematics occupied in turns the chairs of rhetoric, of history, andof philosophy; and whatever might be the subject of his lectures, hediffused among an audience which listened to him with delight, thetreasures of a varied and profound erudition, adorned with all thebrilliancy which the most elegant diction could impart to them. 

MEMOIR ON THE RESOLUTION OF NUMERICAL EQUATIONS. 

About the close of the year 1789 Fourier repaired to Paris and readbefore the Academy of Sciences a memoir on the resolution of numericalequations of all degrees. This work of his early youth our colleague, soto speak, never lost sight of. He explained it at Paris to the pupils ofthe Polytechnic School; he developed it upon the banks of the Nile inpresence of the Institute of Egypt; at Grenoble, from the year 1802, itwas his favourite subject of conversation with the Professors of theCentral School and of the Faculty of Sciences; this finally, containedthe elements of the work which Fourier was engaged in seeing through thepress when death put an end to his career. 

A scientific subject does not occupy so much space in the life of a manof science of the first rank without being important and difficult. Thesubject of algebraic analysis above mentioned, which Fourier had studiedwith a perseverance so remarkable, is not an exception to this rule. Itoffers itself in a great number of applications of calculation to themovements of the heavenly bodies, or to the physics of terrestrialbodies, and in general in the problems which lead to equations of a highdegree. As soon as he wishes to quit the domain of abstract relations, the calculator has occasion to employ the roots of these equations; thusthe art of discovering them by the aid of an uniform method, eitherexactly or by approximation, did not fail at an early period to excitethe attention of geometers. 

An observant eye perceives already some traces of their efforts in thewritings of the mathematicians of the Alexandrian School. These traces, it must be _acknowledged_, are so slight and so imperfect, that weshould truly be justified in referring the origin of this branch ofanalysis only to the excellent labours of our countryman Vieta. Descartes, to whom we render very imperfect justice when we contentourselves with saying that he taught us much when he taught us to doubt, occupied his attention also for a short time with this problem, and leftupon it the indelible impress of his powerful mind. Hudde gave for aparticular but very important case rules to which nothing has since beenadded; Rolle, of the Academy of Sciences, devoted to this one subjecthis entire life. Among our neighbours on the other side of the channel, Harriot, Newton, Maclaurin, Stirling, Waring, I may say all theillustrious geometers which England produced in the last century, madeit also the subject of their researches. Some years afterwards the namesof Daniel Barnoulli, of Euler, and of Fontaine came to be added to somany great names. Finally, Lagrange in his turn embarked in the samecareer, and at the very commencement of his researches he succeeded insubstituting for the imperfect, although very ingenious, essays of hispredecessors, a complete method which was free from every objection. From that instant the dignity of science was satisfied; but in such acase it would not be permitted to say with the poet:

 "Le temps ne fait rien à l'affaire. "

Now although the processes invented by Lagrange, simple in principle andapplicable to every case, have theoretically the merit of leading to theresult with certainty, still, on the other hand, they demandcalculations of a most repulsive length. It remained then to perfect thepractical part of the question; it was necessary to devise the means ofshortening the route without depriving it in any degree of itscertainty. Such was the principal object of the researches of Fourier, and this he has attained to a great extent. 

Descartes had already found, in the order according to which the signsof the different terms of any numerical equation whatever succeed eachother, the means of deciding, for example, how many real positive rootsthis equation may have. Fourier advanced a step further; he discovered amethod for determining what number of the equally positive roots ofevery equation may be found included between two given quantities. Herecertain calculations become necessary, but they are very simple, andwhatever be the precision desired, they lead without any trouble to thesolutions sought for. 

I doubt whether it were possible to cite a single scientific discoveryof any importance which has not excited discussions of priority. The newmethod of Fourier for solving numerical equations is in this respectamply comprised within the common law. We ought, however, to acknowledgethat the theorem which serves as the basis of this method, was firstpublished by M. Budan; that according to a rule which the principalAcademies of Europe have solemnly sanctioned, and from which thehistorian of the sciences dares not deviate without falling intoarbitrary assumptions and confusion, M. Budan ought to be considered asthe inventor. I will assert with equal assurance that it would beimpossible to refuse to Fourier the merit of having attained the sameobject by his own efforts. I even regret that, in order to establishrights which nobody has contested, he deemed it necessary to haverecourse to the certificates of early pupils of the Polytechnic School, or Professors of the University. Since our colleague had the modesty tosuppose that his simple declaration would not be sufficient, why (andthe argument would have had much weight) did he not remark in whatrespect his demonstration differed from that of his competitor?--anadmirable demonstration, in effect, and one so impregnated with theelements of the question, that a young geometer, M. Sturm, has justemployed it to establish the truth of the beautiful theorem by the aidof which he determines not the simple limits, but the exact number ofroots of any equation whatever which are comprised between two givenquantities. 

PART PLAYED BY FOURIER IN OUR REVOLUTION. --HIS ENTRANCE INTO THE CORPSOF PROFESSORS OF THE NORMAL SCHOOL AND THE POLYTECHNICSCHOOL. --EXPEDITION TO EGYPT. 

We had just left Fourier at Paris, submitting to the Academy of Sciencesthe analytical memoir of which I have just given a general view. Uponhis return to Auxerre, the young geometer found the town, thesurrounding country, and even the school to which he belonged, occupiedintensely with the great questions relative to the dignity of humannature, philosophy, and politics, which were then discussed by theorators of the different parties of the National Assembly. Fourierabandoned himself also to this movement of the human mind. He embracedwith enthusiasm the principles of the Revolution, and he ardentlyassociated himself with every thing grand, just, and generous which thepopular impulse offered. His patriotism made him accept the mostdifficult missions. We may assert, that never, even when his life was atstake, did he truckle to the base, covetous, and sanguinary passionswhich displayed themselves on all sides. 

A member of the popular society of Auxerre, Fourier exercised there analmost irresistible ascendency. One day--all Burgundy has preserved theremembrance of it--on the occasion of a levy of three hundred thousandmen, he made the words honour, country, glory, ring so eloquently, heinduced so many voluntary enrolments, that the ballot was not deemednecessary. At the command of the orator the contingent assigned to thechief town of the Yonne formed in order, assembled together within thevery enclosure of the Assembly, and marched forthwith to the frontier. Unfortunately these struggles of the forum, in which so many noble livesthen exercised themselves, were far from having always a realimportance. Ridiculous, absurd, and burlesque motions injuredincessantly the inspirations of a pure, sincere, and enlightenedpatriotism. The popular society of Auxerre would furnish us, in case ofnecessity, with more than one example of those lamentable contrasts. Thus I might say that in the very same apartment wherein Fourier knewhow to excite the honourable sentiments which I have with pleasurerecalled to mind, he had on another occasion to contend with a certainorator, perhaps of good intentions, but assuredly a bad astronomer, who, wishing to escape, said he, from _the good pleasure_ of municipalrulers, proposed that the names of the north, east, south, and westquarters should be assigned by lot to the different parts of the town ofAuxerre. 

Literature, the fine arts, and the sciences appeared for a moment toflourish under the auspicious influence of the French Revolution. Observe, for example, with what grandeur of conception the reformationof weights and measures was planned; what geometers, what astronomers, what eminent philosophers presided over every department of this nobleundertaking! Alas! frightful revolutions in the interior of the countrysoon saddened this magnificent spectacle. The sciences could not prosperin the midst of the desperate contest of factions. They would haveblushed to owe any obligations to the men of blood, whose blind passionsimmolated a Saron, a Bailly, and a Lavoisière. 

A few months after the 9th Thermidor, the Convention being desirous ofdiffusing throughout the country ideas of order, civilization, andinternal prosperity, resolved upon organizing a system of publicinstruction, but a difficulty arose in finding professors. The membersof the corps of instruction had become officers of artillery, ofengineering, or of the staff, and were combating the enemies of Franceat the frontiers. Fortunately at this epoch of intellectual exaltation, nothing seemed impossible. Professors were wanting; it was resolvedwithout delay to create some, and the Normal School sprung intoexistence. Fifteen hundred citizens of all ages, despatched from theprincipal district towns, assembled together, not to study in all theirramifications the different branches of human knowledge, but in order tolearn the art of teaching under the greatest masters. 

Fourier was one of these fifteen hundred pupils. It will, no doubt, excite some surprise that he was elected at St. Florentine, and thatAuxerre appeared insensible to the honour of being represented at Parisby the most illustrious of her children. But this indifference will bereadily understood. The elaborate scaffolding of calumny which it hasserved to support will fall to the ground as soon as I recall to mind, that after the 9th Thermidor the capital, and especially the provinces, became a prey to a blind and disorderly reaction, as all politicalreactions invariably are; that crime (the crime of having changedopinions--it was nothing less hideous) usurped the place of justice;that excellent citizens, that pure, moderate, and conscientious patriotswere daily massacred by hired bands of assassins in presence of whom theinhabitants remained mute with fear. Such are, Gentlemen, the formidableinfluences which for a moment deprived Fourier of the suffrages of hiscountrymen; and caricatured, as a partisan of Robespierre, theindividual whom St. Just, making allusion to his sweet and persuasiveeloquence, styled a _patriot in music_; who was so often thrown intoprison by the decemvirs; who, at the very height of the Reign of Terror, offered before the Revolutionary Tribunal the assistance of hisadmirable talents to the mother of Marshal Davoust, accused of the crimeof having at that unrelenting epoch sent some money to the emigrants;who had the incredible boldness to shut up at the inn of Tonnerre anagent of the Committee of Public Safety, into the secret of whosemission he penetrated, and thus obtained time to warn an honourablecitizen that he was about to be arrested; who, finally, attachinghimself personally to the sanguinary proconsul before whom every onetrembled in Yonne, made him pass for a madman, and obtained his recall!You see, Gentlemen, some of the acts of patriotism, of devotion, and ofhumanity which signalized the early years of Fourier. They were, youhave seen, repaid with ingratitude. But ought we in reality to beastonished at it? To expect gratitude from the man who cannot make anavowal of his feelings without danger, would be to shut one's eyes tothe frailty of human nature, and to expose one's self to frequentdisappointments. 

In the Normal School of the Convention, discussion from time to timesucceeded ordinary lectures. On those days an interchange of characterswas effected; the pupils interrogated the professors. Some wordspronounced by Fourier at one of those curious and useful meetingssufficed to attract attention towards him. Accordingly, as soon as anecessity was felt to create Masters of Conference, all eyes were turnedtowards the pupil of St. Florentine. The precision, the clearness, andthe elegance of his lectures soon procured for him the unanimousapplause of the fastidious and numerous audience which was confided tohim. 

When he attained the height of his scientific and literary glory, Fourier used to look back with pleasure upon the year 1794, and upon thesublime efforts which the French nation then made for the purpose oforganizing a Corps of Public Instruction. If he had ventured, the titleof Pupil of the original Normal School would have been beyond doubt thatwhich he would have assumed by way of preference. Gentlemen, that schoolperished of cold, of wretchedness, and of hunger, and not, whateverpeople may say, from certain defects of organization which time andreflection would have easily rectified. Notwithstanding its shortexistence, it imparted to scientific studies quite a new direction whichhas been productive of the most important results. In supporting thisopinion at some length, I shall acquit myself of a task which Fourierwould certainly have imposed upon me, if he could have suspected, thatwith just and eloquent eulogiums of his character and his labours thereshould mingle within the walls of this apartment, and even emanate fromthe mouth of one of his successors, sharp critiques of his belovedNormal School. 

It is to the Normal School that we must inevitably ascend if we woulddesire to ascertain the earliest public teaching of _descriptiveGeometry_, that fine creation of the genius of Monge. It is from thissource that it has passed almost without modification to the PolytechnicSchool, to foundries, to manufactories, and the most humble workshops. 

The establishment of the Normal School accordingly indicates thecommencement of a veritable revolution in the study of pure mathematics;with it demonstrations, methods, and important theories, buried inacademical collections, appeared for the first time before the pupils, and encouraged them to recast upon new bases the works destined forinstruction. 

With some rare exceptions, the philosophers engaged in the cultivationof science constituted formerly in France a class totally distinct fromthat of the professors. By appointing the first geometers, the firstphilosophers, and the first naturalists of the world to be professors, the Convention threw new lustre upon the profession of teaching, theadvantageous influence of which is felt in the present day. In theopinion of the public at large a title which a Lagrange, a Laplace, aMonge, a Berthollet, had borne, became a proper match to the finesttitles. If under the empire, the Polytechnic School counted among itsactive professors councillors of state, ministers, and the president ofthe senate, you must look for the explanation of this fact in theimpulse given by the Normal School. 

You see in the ancient great colleges, professors concealed in somedegree behind their portfolios, reading as from a pulpit, amid theindifference and inattention of their pupils, discourses preparedbeforehand with great labour, and which reappear every year in the sameform. Nothing of this kind existed at the Normal School; oral lessonsalone were there permitted. The authorities even went so far as torequire of the illustrious savans appointed to the task of instructionthe formal promise never to recite any lectures which they might havelearned by heart. From that time the chair has become a tribune wherethe professor, identified, so to speak, with his audience, sees intheir looks, in their gestures, in their countenance, sometimes thenecessity for proceeding at greater speed, sometimes, on the contrary, the necessity of retracing his steps, of awakening the attention by someincidental observations, of clothing in a new form the thought which, when first expressed, had left some doubts in the minds of his audience. And do not suppose that the beautiful impromptu lectures with which theamphitheatre of the Normal School resounded, remained unknown to thepublic. Short-hand writers paid by the State reported them. The sheets, after being revised by the professors, were sent to the fifteen hundredpupils, to the members of Convention, to the consuls and agents of theRepublic in foreign countries, to all governors of districts. There wasin this something certainly of profusion compared with the parsimoniousand mean habits of our time. Nobody, however, would concur in thisreproach, however slight it may appear, if I were permitted to point outin this very apartment an illustrious Academician, whose mathematicalgenius was awakened by the lectures of the Normal School in an obscuredistrict town!

The necessity of demonstrating the important services, ignored in thepresent day, for which the dissemination of the sciences is indebted tothe first Normal School, has induced me to dwell at greater length onthe subject than I intended. I hope to be pardoned; the example in anycase will not be contagious. Eulogiums of the past, you know, Gentlemen, are no longer fashionable. Every thing which is said, every thing whichis printed, induces us to suppose that the world is the creation ofyesterday. This opinion, which allows to each a part more or lessbrilliant in the cosmogonic drama, is under the safeguard of too manyvanities to have any thing to fear from the efforts of logic. 

I have already stated that the brilliant success of Fourier at theNormal School assigned to him a distinguished place among the personswhom nature has endowed in the highest degree with the talent of publictuition. Accordingly, he was not forgotten by the founders of thePolytechnic School. Attached to that celebrated establishment, firstwith the title of Superintendent of Lectures on Fortification, afterwards appointed to deliver a course of lectures on Analysis, Fourier has left there a venerated name, and the reputation of aprofessor distinguished by clearness, method, and erudition; I shall addeven the reputation of a professor full of grace, for our colleague hasproved that this kind of merit may not be foreign to the teaching ofmathematics. 

The lectures of Fourier have not been collected together. The Journal ofthe Polytechnic School contains only one paper by him, a memoir upon the"principle of virtual velocities. " This memoir, which probably hadserved for the text of a lecture, shows that the secret of ourcelebrated professor's great success consisted in the combination ofabstract truths, of interesting applications, and of historical detailslittle known, and derived, a thing so rare in our days, from originalsources. 

We have now arrived at the epoch when the peace of Leoben brought backto the metropolis the principal ornaments of our armies. Then theprofessors and the pupils of the Polytechnic School had sometimes thedistinguished honour of sitting in their amphitheatres beside GeneralsDesaix and Bonaparte. Every thing indicated to them then an activeparticipation in the events which each foresaw, and which in fact werenot long of occurring. 

Notwithstanding the precarious condition of Europe, the Directorydecided upon denuding the country of its best troops, and launching themupon an adventurous expedition. The five chiefs of the Republic werethen desirous of removing from Paris the conqueror of Italy, of therebyputting an end to the popular demonstrations of which he everywhereformed the object, and which sooner or later would become a real danger. 

On the other hand, the illustrious general did not dream merely of themomentary conquest of Egypt; he wished to restore to that country itsancient splendour; he wished to extend its cultivation, to improve itssystem of irrigation, to create new branches of industry, to open tocommerce numerous outlets, to stretch out a helping hand to theunfortunate inhabitants, to rescue them from the galling yoke underwhich they had groaned for ages, in a word, to bestow upon them withoutdelay all the benefits of European civilization. Designs of suchmagnitude could not have been accomplished with the mere _personnel_ ofan ordinary army. It was necessary to appeal to science, to literature, and to the fine arts; it was necessary to ask the coöperation of severalmen of judgment and of experience. Monge and Berthollet, both members ofthe Institute and Professors in the Polytechnic School, became, with aview to this object, the principal recruiting aids to the chief of theexpedition. Were our colleagues really acquainted with the object ofthis expedition? I dare not reply in the affirmative; but I know at allevents that they were not permitted to divulge it. We are going to adistant country; we shall embark at Toulon; we shall be constantly withyou; General Bonaparte will command the army, such was in form andsubstance the limited amount of confidential information which had beenimperiously traced out to them. Upon the faith of words so vague, withthe chances of a naval battle, with the English hulks in perspective, goin the present day and endeavour to enroll a father of a family, asavant already known by useful labours and placed in some honourableposition, an artist in possession of the esteem and confidence of thepublic, and I am much mistaken if you obtain any thing else thanrefusals; but in 1798, France had hardly emerged from a terrible crisis, during which her very existence was frequently at stake. Who, besides, had not encountered imminent personal danger? Who had not seen with hisown eyes enterprises of a truly desperate nature brought to a fortunateissue? Is any thing more wanted to explain that adventurous character, that absence of all care for the morrow, which appears to have been oneof the most distinguishing features of the epoch of the Directory. Fourier accepted then without hesitation the proposals which hiscolleagues brought to him in the name of the Commander-in-Chief; hequitted the agreeable duties of a professor of the Polytechnic School, to go--he knew not where, to do--he knew not what. 

Chance placed Fourier during the voyage in the vessel in which Klébersailed. The friendship which the philosopher and the warrior vowed toeach other from that moment was not without some influence upon theevents of which Egypt was the theatre after the departure of Napoleon. 

He who signed his orders of the day, the _Member of the Institute, Commander-in-Chief of the Army in the East_, could not fail to place anAcademy among the means of regenerating the ancient kingdom of thePharaohs. The valiant army which he commanded had barely conquered atCairo, on the occasion of the memorable battle of the Pyramids, when theInstitute of Egypt sprung into existence. It consisted of forty-eightmembers, divided into four sections. Monge had the honour of being thefirst president. As at Paris, Bonaparte belonged to the section ofMathematics. The situation of perpetual secretary, the filling up ofwhich was left to the free choice of the Society, was unanimouslyassigned to Fourier. 

You have seen the celebrated geometer discharge the same duty at theAcademy of Sciences; you have appreciated his liberality of mind, hisenlightened benevolence, his unvarying affability, his straightforwardand conciliatory disposition: add in imagination to so many rarequalities the activity which youth, which health can alone give, and youwill have again conjured into existence the Secretary of the Instituteof Egypt; and yet the portrait which I have attempted to draw of himwould grow pale beside the original. 

Upon the banks of the Nile, Fourier devoted himself to assiduousresearches on almost every branch of knowledge which the vast plan ofthe Institute embraced. The _Decade_ and the _Courier of Egypt_ willacquaint the reader with the titles of his different labours. I find inthese journals a memoir upon the general solution of algebraicequations; researches on the methods of elimination; the demonstrationof a new theorem of algebra; a memoir upon the indeterminate analysis;studies on general mechanics; a technical and historical work upon theaqueduct which conveys the waters of the Nile to the Castle of Cairo;reflections upon the Oases; the plan of statistical researches to beundertaken with respect to the state of Egypt; programme of an intendedexploration of the site of the ancient Memphis, and of the whole extentof burying-places; a descriptive account of the revolutions and mannersof Egypt, from the time of its conquest by Selim. 

I find also in the Egyptian _Decade_, that, on the first complementaryday of the year VI. , Fourier communicated to the Institute thedescription of a machine designed to promote irrigation, and which wasto be driven by the power of wind. 

This work, so far removed from the ordinary current of the ideas of ourcolleague, has not been printed. It would very naturally find a place ina work of which the Expedition to Egypt might again furnish the subject, notwithstanding the many beautiful publications which it has alreadycalled into existence. It would be a description of the manufactories ofsteel, of arms, of powder, of cloth, of machines, and of instruments ofevery kind which our army had to prepare for the occasion. If, duringour infancy, the expedients which Robinson Crusoe practised in order toescape from the romantic dangers which he had incessantly to encounter, excite our interest in a lively degree, how, in mature age, could weregard with indifference a handful of Frenchmen thrown upon theinhospitable shores of Africa, without any possible communication withthe mother country, obliged to contend at once with the elements andwith formidable armies, destitute of food, of clothing, of arms, and ofammunition, and yet supplying every want by the force of genius!

The long route which I have yet to traverse, will hardly allow me to adda few words relative to the administrative services of the illustriousgeometer. Appointed French Commissioner at the Divan of Cairo, hebecame the official medium between the General-in-Chief and everyEgyptian who might have to complain of an attack against his person, hisproperty, his morals, his habits, or his creed. An invariable sauvity ofmanner, a scrupulous regard for prejudices to oppose which directlywould have been vain, an inflexible sentiment of justice, had given himan ascendency over the Mussulman population, which the precepts of theKoran could not lead any one to hope for, and which powerfullycontributed to the maintenance of friendly relations between theinhabitants of Cairo and the French soldiers. Fourier was especiallyheld in veneration by the Cheiks and the Ulémas. A single anecdote willserve to show that this sentiment was the offspring of genuinegratitude. 

The Emir Hadgey, or Prince of the Caravan, who had been nominated byGeneral Bonaparte upon his arrival in Cairo, escaped during the campaignof Syria. There existed strong grounds at the time for supposing thatfour _Cheiks Ulémas_ had rendered themselves accomplices of the treason. Upon his return to Egypt, Bonaparte confided the investigation of thisgrave affair to Fourier. "Do not, " said he, "submit half measures to me. You have to pronounce judgment upon high personages: we must either cutoff their heads or invite them to dinner. " On the day following that onwhich this conversation took place, the four Cheiks dined with theGeneral-in-Chief. By obeying the inspirations of his heart, Fourier didnot perform merely an act of humanity; it was moreover one of excellentpolicy. Our learned colleague, M. Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire, to whom I amindebted for this anecdote, has stated in fact that Soleyman andFayoumi, the principal of the Egyptian chiefs, whose punishment, thanksto our colleague, was so happily transformed into a banquet, seizedevery occasion of extolling among their countrymen the generosity of theFrench. 

Fourier did not display less ability when our generals confideddiplomatic missions to him. It is to his tact and urbanity that our armyis indebted for an offensive and defensive treaty of alliance withMourad Bey. Justly proud of this result, Fourier omitted to make knownthe details of the negotiation. This is deeply to be regretted, for theplenipotentiary of Mourad was a woman, the same Sitty Nefiçah whomKléber has immortalized by proclaiming her _beneficence_, _her noblecharacter_, in the bulletin of Heliopolis, and who moreover was alreadycelebrated from one extremity of Asia to the other, in consequence ofthe bloody revolutions which her unparalleled beauty had excited amongthe Mamelukes. 

The incomparable victory which Kléber gained over the army of the GrandVizier did not damp the energy of the Janissaries, who had seized uponCairo while the war was raging at Heliopolis. They defended themselvesfrom house to house with heroic courage. The besieged had to choosebetween the entire destruction of the city and an honourablecapitulation. The latter alternative was adopted. Fourier, charged, asusual, with the negotiations, conducted them to a favourable issue; buton this occasion the treaty was not discussed, agreed to, and signedwithin the mysterious precincts of a harem, upon downy couches, underthe shade of balmy groves. The preliminary discussions were held in ahouse half ruined by bullets and grape-shot; in the centre of thequarter of which the insurgents valiantly disputed the possession withour soldiers; before even it would have been possible to agree to thebasis of a treaty of a few hours. Accordingly, when Fourier waspreparing to celebrate the welcome of the Turkish commissionerconformably to oriental usages, a great number of musket-shots werefired from the house in front, and a ball passed through the coffee-potwhich he was holding in his hand. Without calling in question thebravery of any person, do you not think, Gentlemen, that if diplomatistswere usually placed in equally perilous positions, the public would haveless reason to complain of their proverbial slowness?

In order to exhibit, under one point of view, the various administrativeduties of our indefatigable colleague, I should have to show him to youon board the English fleet, at the instant of the capitulation of Menou, stipulating for certain guarantees in favour of the members of theInstitute of Egypt; but services of no less importance and of adifferent nature demand also our attention. They will even compel us toretrace our steps, to ascend even to the epoch of glorious memory whenDesaix achieved the conquest of Upper Egypt, as much by the sagacity, the moderation, and the inflexible justice of all his acts, as by therapidity and boldness of his military operations. Bonaparte thenappointed two numerous commissions to proceed to explore in those remoteregions, a multitude of monuments of which the moderns hardly suspectedthe existence. Fourier and Costas were the commandants of thesecommissions; I say the commandants, for a sufficiently imposing militaryforce had been assigned to them; since it was frequently after a combatwith the wandering tribes of Arabs that the astronomer found in themovements of the heavenly bodies the elements of a future geographicalmap; that the naturalist collected unknown plants, determined thegeological constitution of the soil, occupied himself with troublesomedissections; that the antiquary measured the dimensions of edifices, that he attempted to take a faithful sketch of the fantastic images withwhich every thing was covered in that singular country, --from thesmallest pieces of furniture, from the simple toys of children, to thoseprodigious palaces, to those immense façades, beside which the vastestof modern constructions would hardly attract a look. 

The two learned commissions studied with scrupulous care the magnificenttemple of the ancient Tentyris, and especially the series ofastronomical signs which have excited in our days such livelydiscussions; the remarkable monuments of the mysterious and sacred Isleof Elephantine; the ruins of Thebes, with her hundred gates, beforewhich (and yet they are nothing but ruins) our whole army halted, in astate of astonishment, to applaud. 

Fourier also presided in Upper Egypt over these memorable works, whenthe Commander-in-Chief suddenly quitted Alexandria and returned toFrance with his principal friends. Those persons then were very muchmistaken who, upon not finding our colleague on board the frigate_Muiron_ beside Monge and Berthollet, imagined that Bonaparte did notappreciate his eminent qualities. If Fourier was not a passenger, thisarose from the circumstance of his having been a hundred leagues fromthe Mediterranean when the _Muiron_ set sail. The explanation containsnothing striking, but it is true. In any case, the friendly feeling ofKléber towards the Secretary of the Institute of Egypt, the influencewhich he justly granted to him on a multitude of delicate occasions, amply compensated him for an unjust omission. 

I arrive, Gentlemen, at the epoch so suggestive of painfulrecollections, when the _Agas_ of the Janissaries who had fled intoSyria, having despaired of vanquishing our troops so admirablycommanded, by the honourable arms of the soldier, had recourse to thedagger of the assassin. You are aware that a young fanatic, whoseimagination had been wrought up to a high state of excitement in themosques by a month of prayers and abstinence, aimed a mortal blow at thehero of Heliopolis at the instant when he was listening, withoutsuspicion, and with his usual kindness, to a recital of pretendedgrievances, and was promising redress. 

This sad misfortune plunged our colony into profound grief. TheEgyptians themselves mingled their tears with those of the Frenchsoldiers. By a delicacy of feeling which we should be wrong in supposingthe Mahometans not to be capable of, they did not then omit, they havenot since omitted, to remark, that the assassin and his threeaccomplices were not born on the banks of the Nile. 

The army, to mitigate its grief, desired that the funeral of Klébershould be celebrated with great pomp. It wished, also, that on thatsolemn day, some person should recount the long series of brilliantactions which will transmit the name of the illustrious general to theremotest posterity. By unanimous consent this honourable and perilousmission was confided to Fourier. 

There are very few individuals, Gentlemen, who have not seen thebrilliant dreams of their youth wrecked one after the other against thesad realities of mature age. Fourier was one of those few exceptions. 

In effect, transport yourselves mentally back to the year 1789, andconsider what would be the future prospects of the humble convert of St. Benoît-sur-Loire. No doubt a small share of literary glory; the favourof being heard occasionally in the churches of the metropolis; thesatisfaction of being appointed to eulogize such or such a publicpersonage. Well! nine years have hardly passed and you find him at thehead of the Institute of Egypt, and he is the oracle, the idol of asociety which counted among its members Bonaparte, Berthollet, Monge, Malus, Geoffroy Saint Hilaire, Conté, &c. ; and the generals rely uponhim for overcoming apparently insurmountable difficulties, and the armyof the East, itself so rich in adornments of all kinds, would desire noother interpreter when it is necessary to recount the lofty deeds of thehero which it had just lost. 

It was upon the breach of a bastion which our troops had recently takenby assault, in sight of the most majestic of rivers, of the magnificentvalley which it fertilizes, of the frightful desert of Lybia, of thecolossal pyramids of Gizeh; it was in presence of twenty populations ofdifferent origins which Cairo unites together in its vast basin; inpresence of the most valiant soldiers that had ever set foot on a land, wherein, however, the names of Alexander and of Cæsar still resound; itwas in the midst of every thing which could move the heart, excite theideas, or exalt the imagination, that Fourier unfolded the noble life ofKléber. The orator was listened to with religious silence; but soon, addressing himself with a gesture of his hand to the soldiers ranged inbattle array before him, he exclaims: "Ah! how many of you would haveaspired to the honour of throwing yourselves between Kléber and hisassassin! I call you to witness, intrepid cavalry, who rushed to savehim upon the heights of Koraïm, and dispelled in an instant themultitude of enemies who had surrounded him!" At these words an electrictremor thrills throughout the whole army, the colours droop, the ranksclose, the arms come into collision, a deep sigh escapes from some tenthousand breasts torn by the sabre and the bullet, and the voice of theorator is drowned amid sobs. 

A few months after, upon the same bastion, before the same soldiers, Fourier celebrated with no less eloquence the exploits, the virtues ofthe general whom the people conquered in Africa saluted with the name soflattering of _Just Sultan_; and who sacrificed his life at Marengo tosecure the triumph of the French arms. 

Fourier quitted Egypt only with the last wreck of the army, in virtue ofthe capitulation signed by Menou. On his return to France, the object ofhis most constant solicitude was to illustrate the memorable expeditionof which he had been one of the most active and most useful members. Theidea of collecting together the varied labours of all his colleaguesincontestibly belongs to him. I find the proof of this in a letter, still unpublished, which he wrote to Kléber from Thebes, on the 20thVendémiaire, in the year VII. No public act, in which mention is made ofthis great literary monument, is of an earlier date. The Institute ofCairo having adopted the project of a _work upon Egypt_ as early as themonth of Frimaire, in the year VIII. , confided to Fourier the task ofuniting together the scattered elements of it, of making them consistentwith each other, and drawing up the general introduction. 

This introduction was published under the title of _Historical Preface_:Fontanes saw in it the graces of Athens and the wisdom of Egypt unitedtogether. What could I add to such an eulogium? I shall say only thatthere are to be found there, in a few pages, the principal features ofthe government of the Pharaohs, and the results of the subjection ofancient Egypt by the kings of Persia, the Ptolemies, the successors ofAugustus, the emperors of Byzantium, the first Caliphs, the celebratedSaladin, the Mamelukes and the Ottoman princes. The different phases ofour adventurous expedition are there characterized with the greatestcare. Fourier carries his scruples to so great a length as _to attempt_to prove that it was just. I have said only so far as _to attempt_, forin that case there might have been something to deduct from the secondpart of the eulogium of Fontanes. If, in 1797, our countrymanexperienced at Cairo, or at Alexandria, outrages and extortions whichthe Grand Seignior either would not or could not repress, one may in allrigour admit that France ought to have exacted justice to herself; thatshe had the right to send a powerful army to bring the TurkishCustom-house officers to reason. But this is far from maintaining thatthe divan of Constantinople ought to have favoured the Frenchexpedition; that our conquest was about to restore to him, _in somesort_, Egypt and Syria; that the capture of Alexandria and the battle ofthe _Pyramids would enhance the lustre of the Ottoman name_! However, the public hastened to acquit Fourier of what appears hazarded in thissmall part of his beautiful work. The origin of it has been sought forin political exigencies. Let us be brief; behind certain sophisms thehand of the original Commander-in-Chief of the army of the East wassuspected to be seen!

Napoleon, then, would appear to have participated by his instructions, by his counsels, or, if we choose, by his imperative orders, in thecomposition of the essay of Fourier. What was not long ago nothing morethan a plausible conjecture, has now become an incontestable fact. Thanks to the courtesy of M. Champollion-Figeac, I held in my hands, within the last few days, some parts of the first _proof sheets_ of thehistorical preface. These proofs were sent to the Emperor, who wished tomake himself acquainted with them at leisure before reading them withFourier. They are covered with marginal notes, and the additions whichthey have occasioned amount to almost a third of the original discourse. Upon these pages, as in the definitive work given to the public, oneremarks a complete absence of proper names; the only exception is in thecase of the three Generals-in-Chief. Thus Fourier had imposed uponhimself the reserve which certain vanities have blamed so severely. Ishall add that nowhere throughout the precious proof sheets of M. Champollion do we perceive traces of the miserable feelings of jealousywhich have been attributed to Napoleon. It is true that upon pointingout with his finger the word illustrious applied to Kléber, the Emperorsaid to our colleague: "SOME ONE has directed my attention toTHIS EPITHET;" but, after a short pause, he added, "it isdesirable that you should leave it, for it is just and well deserved. "These words, Gentlemen, honoured the monarch still less than theybranded with disgrace the _some one_ whom I regret not being able todesignate in more definite terms, --one of those vile courtiers whosewhole life is occupied in spying out the frailties, the evil passions oftheir masters, in order to make them subservient in conductingthemselves to honours and fortune!

FOURIER PREFECT OF L'ISÈRE. 

Fourier had no sooner returned to Europe, than he was named (January 2, 1802) Prefect of the Department of l'Isère. The Ancient Dauphiny wasthen a prey to ardent political dissensions. The republicans, thepartisans of the emigrants, those who had ranged themselves under thebanners of the consular government, formed so many distinct castes, between whom all reconciliation appeared impossible. Well, Gentlemen, this impossibility Fourier achieved. His first care was to cause theHôtel of the Prefecture to be considered as a neutral ground, where eachmight show himself without even the appearance of a concession. Curiosity alone at first brought the people there, but the peoplereturned; for in France they seldom desert the saloons wherein are to befound a polished and benevolent host, witty without being ridiculous, and learned without being pedantic. What had been divulged of theopinions of our colleague, respecting the anti-biblican antiquity of theEgyptian monuments, inspired the religious classes especially withlively apprehensions; they were very adroitly informed that the newprefect counted a _Saint_ in his family; that the _blessed_ PierreFourier, who established the religious sisters of the congregation ofNotre-Dame, was his grand uncle, and this circumstance effected areconciliation which the unalterable respect of the first magistrate ofGrenoble for all conscientious opinions cemented every day more andmore. 

As soon as he was assured of a truce with the political and religiousparties, Fourier was enabled to devote himself exclusively to the dutiesof his office. These duties did not consist with him in heaping up oldpapers to no advantage. He took personal cognizance of the projectswhich were submitted to him; he was the indefatigable promoter of allthose which narrow-minded persons sought to stifle in their birth; wemay include in this last class, the superb road from Grenoble to Turinby Mount Genèvre, which the events of 1814 have so unfortunatelyinterrupted, and especially the drainage of the marshes of Bourgoin. 

These marshes, which Louis XIV. Had given to Marshal Turenne, were afocus of infection to the thirty-seven communes, the lands of which werepartially covered by them. Fourier directed personally the topographicoperations which established the possibility of drainage. With thesedocuments in his hand he went from village to village, I might almostsay from house to house, to fix the sacrifice which each family ought toimpose upon itself for the general interest. By tact and perseverance, taking "the _ear of corn always in the right direction_, " thirty-sevenmunicipal councils were induced to contribute to a common fund, withoutwhich the projected operation would not even have been commenced. Success crowned this rare perseverance. Rich harvests, fat pastures, numerous flocks, a robust and happy population now covered an immenseterritory, where formerly the traveller dared not remain more than a fewhours. 

One of the predecessors of Fourier, in the situation of perpetualsecretary of the Academy of Sciences, deemed it his duty, on oneoccasion, to beg an excuse for having given a detailed account ofcertain researches of Leibnitz, which had not required great efforts ofthe intellect: "We ought, " says he, "to be very much obliged to a mansuch as he is, when he condescends, for the public good, to do somethingwhich does not partake of genius!" I cannot conceive the ground of suchscruples; in the present day, the sciences are regarded from too high apoint of view, that we should hesitate in placing in the first rank ofthe labours with which they are adorned, those which diffuse comfort, health, and happiness amidst the working population. 

In presence of a part of the Academy of Inscriptions, in an apartmentwherein the name of hieroglyph has so often resounded, I cannot refrainfrom alluding to the service which Fourier rendered to science byretaining Champollion. The young professor of history of the Faculty ofLetters of Grenoble had just attained the twentieth year of his age. Fate calls him to shoulder the musket. Fourier exempts him by investinghim with the title of pupil of the School of Oriental Languages which hehad borne at Paris. The Minister of War learns that the pupil formerlygave in his resignation; he denounces the fraud, and dispatches aperemptory order for his departure, which seems even to exclude all ideaof remonstrance. Fourier, however, is not discouraged; his intercessionsare skilful and of a pressing nature; finally, he draws so animated aportrait of the precocious talent of _his young friend_, that hesucceeds in wringing from the government an order of special exemption. It was not easy, Gentlemen, to obtain such success. At the same time, aconscript, a _member of our Academy_, succeeded in obtaining arevocation of his order for departure only by declaring that he wouldfollow on foot, in the costume of the Institute, the contingent of thearrondissement of Paris in which he was classed. 

MATHEMATICAL THEORY OF HEAT. 

The administrative duties of the prefect of l'Isère hardly interruptedthe labours of the geometer and the man of letters. It is from Grenoblethat the principal writings of Fourier are dated; it was at Grenoblethat he composed the _Théorie Mathématique de la Chaleur_, which formshis principal title to the gratitude of the scientific world. 

I am far from being unconscious of the difficulty of analyzing thatadmirable work, and yet I shall attempt to point out the successivesteps which he has achieved in the advancement of science. You willlisten to me, Gentlemen, with indulgence, notwithstanding several minutedetails which I shall have to recount, since I thereby fulfil themission with which you have honoured me. 

The ancients had a taste, let us say rather a passion, for themarvellous, which caused them to forget even the sacred duties ofgratitude. Observe them, for example, grouping together the lofty deedsof a great number of heroes, whose names they have not even deigned topreserve, and investing the single personage of Hercules with them. Thelapse of ages has not rendered us wiser in this respect. In our own timethe public delight in blending fable with history. In every career oflife, in the pursuit of science especially, they enjoy a pleasure increating Herculeses. According to vulgar opinion, there is noastronomical discovery which is not due to Herschel. The theory of theplanetary movements is identified with the name of Laplace; hardly is apassing allusion made to the eminent labours of D'Alembert, of Clairaut, of Euler, of Lagrange. Watt is the sole inventor of the steam-engine. Chaptal has enriched the arts of Chemistry with the totality of thefertile and ingenious processes which constitute their prosperity. Evenwithin this apartment has not an eloquent voice lately asserted, thatbefore Fourier the phenomenon of heat was hardly studied; that thecelebrated geometer had alone made more observations than all hispredecessors put together; that he had with almost a single effortinvented a new science. 

Although he runs the risk of being less lively, the organ of the Academyof Sciences cannot permit himself such bursts of enthusiasm. He ought tobear in mind, that the object of these solemnities is not merely tocelebrate the discoveries of academicians; that they are also designedto encourage modest merit; that an observer forgotten by hiscontemporaries, is frequently supported in his laborious researches bythe thought that he will obtain a benevolent look from posterity. Let usact, so far as it depends upon us, in such a manner that a hope so just, so natural, may not be frustrated. Let us award a just, a brillianthomage to those rare men whom nature has endowed with the preciousprivilege of arranging a thousand isolated facts, of making seductivetheories spring from them; but let us not forget to state, that thescythe of the reaper had cut the stalks before one had thought ofuniting them into sheaves!

Heat presents itself in natural phenomena, and in those which are theproducts of art under two entirely distinct forms, which Fourier hasseparately considered. I shall adopt the same division, commencinghowever with radiant heat, the historical analysis which I am about tosubmit to you. 

Nobody doubts that there is a physical distinction which is eminentlyworthy of being studied between the ball of iron at the ordinarytemperature which may be handled at pleasure, and the ball of iron ofthe same dimensions which the flame of a furnace has very much heated, and which we cannot touch without burning ourselves. This distinction, according to the majority of physical inquirers, arises from a certainquantity of an elastic imponderable fluid, or at least a fluid which hasnot been weighed, with which the second ball has combined during theprocess of heating. The fluid which, upon combining with cold bodiesrenders them hot, has been designated by the name of _heat_ or_caloric_. 

Bodies unequally heated act upon each other _even at great distances, even through empty space_, for the colder becomes more hot, and thehotter becomes more cold; for after a certain time they indicate thesame degree of the thermometer, whatever may have been the difference oftheir original temperatures. According to the hypotheses aboveexplained, there is but one way of conceiving this action at a distance;this is to suppose that it operates by the aid of certain effluvia whichtraverse space by passing from the hot body to the cold body; that is, to admit that a hot body emits in every direction rays of heat, asluminous bodies emit rays of light. 

The effluvia, the radiating emanations by the aid of which two distantbodies form a calorific communication with each other, have been veryappropriately designated by the name of _radiating caloric_. 

Whatever may be said to the contrary, radiating heat had already beenthe object of important experiments before Fourier undertook hislabours. The celebrated academicians of the _Cimento_ found, nearly twocenturies ago, that this heat is reflected like light; that, as in thecase of light, a concave mirror concentrates it at the focus. Uponsubstituting balls of snow for heated bodies, they even went so far asto prove that frigorific foci may be formed by way of reflection. Someyears afterwards Mariotte, a member of this Academy, discovered thatthere exist different kinds of radiating heat; that the heat with whichrays of light are accompanied traverses all transparent media as easilyas light does; while, again, the caloric which emanates from a stronglyheated, but opaque substance, while the rays of heat, which are foundmingled with the luminous rays of a body moderately incandescent, arealmost entirely arrested in their passage through the most transparentplate of glass!

This striking discovery, let us remark in passing, will show, notwithstanding the ridicule of pretended savans, how happily inspiredwere the workmen in founderies, who looked at the incandescent matter oftheir furnaces, only through a plate of ordinary glass, thinking by theaid of this artifice to arrest the heat which would have burned theireyes. 

In the experimental sciences, the epochs of the most brilliant progressare almost always separated by long intervals of almost absolute repose. Thus, after Mariotte, there elapsed more than a century without historyhaving to record any new property of radiating heat. Then, in closesuccession, we find in the solar light obscure calorific rays, theexistence of which could admit of being established only with thethermometer, and which may be completely separated from luminous rays bythe aid of the prism; we discover, by the aid of terrestrial bodies, that the emission of caloric rays, and consequently the cooling of thosebodies, is considerably retarded by the polish of the surfaces; that thecolour, the nature, and the thickness of the outer coating of thesesame surfaces, exercise also a manifest influence upon their emissivepower. Experience, finally, rectifying the vague predictions to whichthe most enlightened minds abandon themselves with so little reserve, shows that the calorific rays which emanate from the plane surface of aheated body have not the same force, the same intensity in alldirections; that the _maximum_ corresponds to the perpendicularemission, and the _minimum_ to the emissions parallel to the surface. 

Between these two extreme positions, how does the diminution of theemissive power operate? Leslie first sought the solution of thisimportant question. His observations seem to show that the intensitiesof the radiating rays are proportional (it is necessary, Gentlemen, thatI employ the scientific expression) to the sines of the angles whichthese rays form with the heated surface. But the quantities upon whichthe experimenter had to operate were too feeble; the uncertainties ofthe thermometric estimations compared with the total effect were, on thecontrary, too great not to inspire a strong degree of distrust: well, Gentlemen, a problem before which all the processes, all the instrumentsof modern physics have remained powerless, Fourier has completely solvedwithout the necessity of having recourse to any new experiment. He hastraced the law of the emission of caloric sought for, with a perspicuitywhich one cannot sufficiently admire, in the most ordinary phenomena oftemperature, in the phenomena which at first sight appeared to beentirely independent of it. 

Such is the privilege of genius; it perceives, it seizes relations wherevulgar eyes see only isolated facts. 

Nobody doubts, and besides experiment has confirmed the fact, that inall the points of a space terminated by any envelop maintained at aconstant temperature, we ought also to experience a constanttemperature, and precisely that of the envelop. Now Fourier hasestablished, that if the calorific rays emitted were equally intense inall directions, if the intensity did not vary proportionally to the sineof the angle of emission, the temperature of a body situated in theenclosure would depend on the place which it would occupy there: _thatthe temperature of boiling water or of melting iron, for example, wouldexist in certain points of a hollow envelop of glass!_ In all the vastdomain of the physical sciences, we should be unable to find a morestriking application of the celebrated method of the _reductio adabsurdum_ of which the ancient mathematicians made use, in order todemonstrate the abstract truths of geometry. 

I shall not quit this first part of the labours of Fourier withoutadding, that he has not contented himself with demonstrating with somuch felicity the remarkable law which connects the comparativeintensities of the calorific rays, emanating under all angles fromheated bodies; he has sought, moreover, the physical cause of this law, and he has found it in a circumstance which his predecessors hadentirely neglected. Let us suppose, says he, that bodies emit heat notonly from the molecules of their surfaces, but also from the particlesin the interior. Let us suppose, moreover, that the heat of these latterparticles cannot arrive at the surface by traversing a certain thicknessof matter without undergoing some degree of absorption. Fourier hasreduced these two hypotheses to calculation, and he has hence deducedmathematically the experimental law of the sines. After having resistedso radical a test, the two hypotheses were found to be completelyverified, they have become laws of nature; they point out latentproperties of caloric which could only be discerned by the eye of theintellect. 

In the second question treated by Fourier, heat presents itself under anew form. There is more difficulty in following its movements; but theconclusions deducible from the theory are also more general and moreimportant. 

Heat excited, concentrated into a certain point of a solid body, communicates itself by way of conduction, first to the particles nearestthe heated point, then gradually to all the regions of the body. Whencethe problem of which the following is the enunciation. 

By what routes, and with what velocities, is the propagation of heateffected in bodies of different forms and different natures subjected tocertain initial conditions?

Fundamentally, the Academy of Sciences had already proposed this problemas the subject of a prize as early as the year 1736. Then the terms heatand caloric were not in use; it demanded _the study of nature, and thepropagation_ OF FIRE! The word _fire_, thrown thus into theprogramme without any other explanation, gave rise to a mistake of themost singular kind. The majority of philosophers imagined that thequestion was to explain in what way _burning_ communicates itself, andincreases in a mass of combustible matter. Fifteen competitors presentedthemselves; _three_ were crowned. 

This competition was productive of very meagre results. However, asingular combination of circumstances and of proper names will renderthe recollection of it lasting. 

Has not the public a right to be surprised upon reading this Academicdeclaration: "the question affords no handle to geometry!" In matter ofinventions, to attempt to dive into the future, is to prepare for one'sself striking mistakes. One of the competitors, the great Euler, tookthese words in their literal sense; the reveries with which his memoirabounds, are not compensated in this instance by any of those brilliantdiscoveries in analysis, I had almost said of those sublimeinspirations, which were so familiar to him. Fortunately Euler appendedto his memoir a supplement truly worthy of his genius. Father Lozeran deFiesc and the Count of Créqui were rewarded with the high honour ofseeing their names inscribed beside that of the illustrious geometer, although it would be impossible in the present day to discern in theirmemoirs any kind of merit, not even that of politeness, for the courtiersaid rudely to the Academy: "the question, which you have raised, interests only the curiosity of mankind. "

Among the competitors less favourably treated, we perceive one of thegreatest writers whom France has produced; the author of the _Henriade_. The memoir of Voltaire was, no doubt, far from solving the problemproposed; but it was at least distinguished by elegance, clearness, andprecision of language; I shall add, by a severe style of argument; forif the author occasionally arrives at questionable results, it is onlywhen he borrows false data from the chemistry and physics of theepoch, --sciences which had just sprung into existence. Moreover, theanti-Cartesian colour of some of the parts of the memoir of Voltaire wascalculated to find little favour in a society, where Cartesianism, withits incomprehensible vortices, was everywhere held in high estimation. 

We should have more difficulty in discovering the causes of the failureof a fourth competitor, Madame the Marchioness du Châtelet, for she alsoentered into the contest instituted by the Academy. The work of Emiliawas not only an elegant portrait of all the properties of heat, knownthen to physical inquirers, there were remarked moreover in it, different projects of experiments, among the rest one which Herschel hassince developed, and from which he has derived one of the principalflowers of his brilliant scientific crown. 

While such great names were occupied in discussing this question, physical inquirers of a less ambitious stamp laid experimentally thesolid basis of a future mathematical theory of heat. Some established, that the same quantity of caloric does not elevate by the same number ofdegrees equal weights of different substances, and thereby introducedinto the science the important notion of _capacity_. Others, by the aidof observations no less certain, proved that heat, applied at theextremity of a bar, is transmitted to the extreme parts with greater orless velocity or intensity, according to the nature of the substance ofwhich the bar is composed; thus they suggested the original idea of_conductibility_. The same epoch, if I were not precluded from enteringinto too minute details, would present to us interesting experiments. Weshould find that it is not true that, at all degrees of the thermometer, the loss of heat of a body is proportional to the excess of itstemperature above that of the medium in which it is plunged; but I havebeen desirous of showing you geometry penetrating, timidly at first, into questions of the propagation of heat, and depositing there thefirst germs of its fertile methods. 

It is to Lambert of Mulhouse, that we owe this first step. Thisingenious geometer had proposed a very simple problem which any personmay comprehend. A slender metallic bar is exposed at one of itsextremities to the constant action of a certain focus of heat. The partsnearest the focus are heated first. Gradually the heat communicatesitself to the more distant parts, and, after a short time, each pointacquires the maximum temperature which it can ever attain. Although theexperiment were to last a hundred years, the thermometric state of thebar would not undergo any modification. 

As might be reasonably expected, this maximum of heat is so much lessconsiderable as we recede from the focus. Is there any relation betweenthe final temperatures and the distances of the different particles ofthe bar from the extremity directly heated? Such a relation exists. Itis very simple. Lambert investigated it by calculation, and experienceconfirmed the results of theory. 

In addition to the somewhat elementary question of the _longitudinal_propagation of heat, there offered itself the more general but much moredifficult problem of the propagation of heat in a body of threedimensions terminated by any surface whatever. This problem demanded theaid of the higher analysis. It was Fourier who first assigned theequations. It is to Fourier, also, that we owe certain theorems, bymeans of which we may ascend from the differential equations to theintegrals, and push the solutions in the majority of cases to the finalnumerical applications. 

The first memoir of Fourier on the theory of heat dates from the year1807. The Academy, to which it was communicated, being desirous ofinducing the author to extend and improve his researches, made thequestion of the propagation of heat the subject of the greatmathematical prize which was to be awarded in the beginning of the year1812. Fourier did, in effect, compete, and his memoir was crowned. But, alas! as Fontenelle said: "In the country even of demonstrations, thereare to be found causes of dissension. " Some restrictions mingled withthe favourable judgment. The illustrious commissioners of the prize, Laplace, Lagrange, and Legendre, while acknowledging the novelty andimportance of the subject, while declaring that the real differentialequations of the propagation of heat were finally found, asserted thatthey perceived difficulties in the way in which the author arrived atthem. They added, that his processes of integration left something to bedesired, even on the score of rigour. They did not, however, supporttheir opinion by any arguments. 

Fourier never admitted the validity of this decision. Even at the closeof his life he gave unmistakable evidence that he thought it unjust, bycausing his memoir to be printed in our volumes without changing asingle word. Still, the doubts expressed by the Commissioners of theAcademy reverted incessantly to his recollection. From the verybeginning they had poisoned the pleasure of his triumph. These firstimpressions, added to a high susceptibility, explain how Fourier endedby regarding with a certain degree of displeasure the efforts of thosegeometers who endeavoured to improve his theory. This, Gentlemen, was avery strange aberration of a mind of so elevated an order! Our colleaguehad almost forgotten that it is not allotted to any person to conduct ascientific question to a definitive termination, and that the importantlabours of D'Alembert, Clairaut, Euler, Lagrange, and Laplace, whileimmortalizing their authors, have continually added new lustre to theimperishable glory of Newton. Let us act so that this example may not belost. While the civil law imposes upon the tribunes the obligation toassign the motives of _their judgments_, the academies, which are thetribunes of science, cannot have even a pretext to escape from thisobligation. Corporate bodies, as well as individuals, act wisely whenthey reckon in every instance only upon the authority of reason. 

CENTRAL HEAT OF THE TERRESTRIAL GLOBE. 

At any time the _Théorie Mathématique de la Chaleur_ would have exciteda lively interest among men of reflection, since, upon the suppositionof its being complete, it threw light upon the most minute processes ofthe arts. In our time the numerous points of affinity existing betweenit and the curious discoveries of the geologists, have made it, if I mayuse the expression, a work for the occasion. To point out the ultimaterelation which exists between these two kinds of researches would be topresent the most important part of the discoveries of Fourier, and toshow how happily our colleague, by one of those inspirations reservedfor genius, had chosen the subject of his researches. 

The parts of the earth's crust, which the geologists call thesedimentary formations, were not formed all at once. The waters of theocean, on several former occasions, covered regions which are situatedin the present day in the centre of the continent. There they deposited, in thin horizontal strata, a series of rocks of different kinds. Theserocks, although superposed like the layers of stones of a wall, must notbe confounded together; their dissimilarities are palpable to the leastpractised eye. It is necessary also to note this capital fact, thateach stratum has a well-defined limit; that no process of transitionconnects it with the stratum which it supports. The ocean, the originalsource of all these deposits, underwent then formerly enormous changesin its chemical composition to which it is no longer subject. 

With some rare exceptions, resulting from local convulsions the effectsof which are otherwise manifest, the order of antiquity of thesuccessive strata of rocks which form the exterior crust of the globeought to be that of their superposition. The deepest have been formed atthe most remote epochs. The attentive study of these different envelopsmay aid us in ascending the stream of time, even beyond the most remoteepochs, and enlightening us with respect to those stupendous revolutionswhich periodically overwhelmed continents beneath the waters of theocean, or again restored them to their former condition. Crystallinerocks of granite upon which the sea has effected its original depositshave never exhibited any remains of life. Traces of such are to be foundonly in the sedimentary strata. 

Life appears to have first exhibited itself on the earth in the form ofvegetables. The remains of vegetables are all that we meet with in themost ancient strata deposited by the waters; still, they belong toplants of the simplest structure, --to ferns, to species of rushes, tolycopodes. 

As we ascend into the upper strata, vegetation becomes more and morecomplex. Finally, near the surface, it resembles the vegetation actuallyexisting on the earth, with this characteristic circumstance, however, which is well deserving attention, that certain vegetables which growonly in southern climates, that the large palm-trees, for example, arefound in their fossil state in all latitudes, and even in the centre ofthe frozen regions of Siberia. 

In the primitive world, these northern regions enjoyed then, in winter, a temperature at least equal to that which is experienced in the presentday under the parallels where the great palms commence to appear: atTobolsk, the inhabitants enjoyed the climate of Alicante or Algiers!

We shall deduce new proofs of this mysterious result from an attentiveexamination of the size of plants. 

There exist, in the present day, willow grass or marshy rushes, ferns, and lycopodes, in Europe as well as in the tropical regions; but theyare not met with in large dimensions, except in warm countries. Thus, tocompare together the dimensions of the same plants is, in reality, tocompare, in respect to temperature, the regions where they are produced. Well, place beside the fossil plants of our coal mines, I will not saythe analogous plants of Europe, but those which grow in the countries ofSouth America, and which are most celebrated for the richness of theirvegetation, and you will find the former to be of incomparably greaterdimensions than the latter. 

The _fossil flora_ of France, England, Germany, and Scandinavia offer, for example, ferns ninety feet high, the stalks being six feet indiameter, or eighteen feet in circumference. 

The _lycopodes_ which, in the present day, whether in cold or temperateclimates, are creeping-plants rising hardly to the height of a decimètreabove the soil; which even at the equator, under the most favourablecircumstances, do not attain a height of more than _one_ mètre, had inEurope, in the primitive world, an altitude of twenty-five mètres. 

One must be blind to all reason not to find, in these enormousdimensions, a new proof of the high temperature enjoyed by our countrybefore the last irruptions of the ocean!

The study of _fossil animals_ is no less fertile in results. I shoulddigress from my subject if I were to examine here how the organizationof animals is developed upon the earth; what modifications, or morestrictly speaking, what complications it has undergone after eachcataclysm, or if I even stopped to describe one of those ancient epochsduring which the earth, the sea, and the atmosphere had for inhabitantscold-blooded reptiles of enormous dimensions; tortoises with shellsthree feet in diameter; lizards seventeen mètres long; pterodactyles, veritable flying dragons of such strange forms, that they might beclassed on good grounds either among reptiles, among mammiferousanimals, or among birds. The object, which I have proposed, does notrequire that I should enter into such details; a single remark willsuffice. 

Among the bones contained in the strata nearest the present surface ofthe earth, are those of the hippopotamus, the rhinoceros, and theelephant. These remains of animals of warm countries are to be found inall latitudes. Travellers have discovered specimens of them even atMelville Island, where the temperature descends, in the present day, 50°beneath zero. In Siberia they are found in such abundance as to havebecome an article of commerce. Finally, upon the rocky shores of theArctic Ocean, there are to be found not merely fragments of skeletons, but whole elephants still covered with their flesh and skin. 

I should deceive myself very much, Gentlemen, if I were to suppose thateach of you had not deduced from these remarkable facts a conclusion noless remarkable, to which indeed the fossil flora had already habituatedus; namely, that as they have grown older, the polar regions of theearth have cooled down to a prodigious extent. 

In the explanation of so curious a phenomenon, cosmologists have nottaken into account the existence of possible variations of the intensityof the solar heat; and yet the stars, those distant suns, have not theconstant brightness which the common people attribute to them. Nay, someof them have been observed to diminish in a sufficiently short space oftime to the hundredth part of their original brightness; and severalhave even totally disappeared. They have preferred to attribute everything to an internal or primitive heat with which the earth was at someformer epoch impregnated, and which is gradually being dissipated inspace. 

Upon this hypothesis the inhabitants of the polar regions, althoughdeprived of the sight of the sun for whole months together, must haveevidently enjoyed, at very ancient epochs, a temperature equal to thatof the tropical regions, wherein exist elephants in the present day. 

It is not, however, as an explanation of the existence of elephants inSiberia, that the idea of the intrinsic heat of the globe has enteredfor the first time into science. Some savans had adopted it before thediscovery of those fossil animals. Thus, Descartes was of opinion thatoriginally (I cite his own words, ) _the earth did not differ from thesun in any other respect than in being smaller_. Upon this hypothesis, then, it ought to be considered as an extinct sun. 

Leibnitz conferred upon this hypothesis the honour of appropriating itto himself. He attempted to deduce from it the mode of formation of thedifferent solid envelopes of which the earth consists. Buffon, also, imparted to it the weight of his eloquent authority. According to thatgreat naturalist, the planets of our system are merely portions of thesun, which the shock of a comet had detached from it some tens ofthousands of years ago. 

In support of this igneous origin of the earth, Mairan and Buffon citedalready the high temperature of deep mines, and, among others, those ofthe mines of Giromagny. It appears evident that if the earth wasformerly incandescent, we should not fail to meet in the interiorstrata, that is to say, in those which ought to have cooled last, tracesof their primitive temperature. The observer who, upon penetrating intothe interior of the earth, did not find an increasing heat, might thenconsider himself amply authorized to reject the hypothetical conceptionsof Descartes, of Mairan, of Leibnitz, and of Buffon. But has theconverse proposition the same certainty? Would not the torrents of heat, which the sun has continued incessantly to launch for so many ages, havediffused themselves into the mass of the earth, so as to produce there atemperature increasing with the depth? This a question of highimportance. Certain easily satisfied minds conscientiously supposed thatthey had solved it, when they stated that the idea of a constanttemperature was by far the _most natural_; but woe to the sciences ifthey thus included vague considerations which escape all criticism, among the motives for admitting and rejecting facts and theories!Fontenelle, Gentlemen, would have traced their horoscope in these words, so well adapted for humbling our pride, and the truth of which thehistory of discoveries reveals in a thousand places: "When a thing maybe in two different ways, it is almost always that which appears atfirst the least natural. "

Whatever importance these reflections may possess, I hasten to add that, instead of the arguments of his predecessors, which have no real value, Fourier has substituted proofs, demonstrations; and we know what meaningsuch terms convey to the Academy of Sciences. 

In all places of the earth, as soon as we descend to a certain depth, the thermometer no longer experiences either diurnal or annualvariation. It marks the same degree, and the same fraction of a degree, from day to day, and from year to year. Such is the fact: what saystheory?

Let us suppose, for a moment, that the earth has constantly received allits heat from the sun. Descend into its mass to a sufficient depth, andyou will find, with Fourier, by the aid of calculation, a constanttemperature for each day of the year. You will recognize further, thatthis solar temperature of the inferior strata varies from one climate toanother; that in each country, finally, it ought to be always the same, so long as we do not descend to depths which are too great relatively tothe earth's radius. 

Well, the phenomena of nature stand in manifest contradiction to thisresult. The observations made in a multitude of mines, observations ofthe temperature of hot springs coming from different depths, have allgiven an increase of one degree of the centigrade for every twenty orthirty metres of depth. Thus, there was some inaccuracy in thehypothesis which we were discussing upon the footsteps of our colleague. It is not true that the temperature of the terrestrial strata may beattributed solely to the action of the solar rays. 

This being established, the increase of heat which is observed in allclimates when we penetrate into the interior of the globe, is themanifest indication of an intrinsic heat. The earth, as Descartes andLeibnitz maintained it to be, but without being able to support theirassertions by any demonstrative reasoning, --thanks to a combination ofthe observations of physical inquirers with the analytical calculationsof Fourier, --is _an encrusted sun_, the high temperature of which may beboldly invoked every time that the explanation of ancient geologicalphenomena will require it. 

After having established that there is in our earth an inherent heat, --aheat the source of which is not the sun, and which, if we may judge ofit by the rapid increase which observation indicates, ought to bealready sufficiently intense at the depth of only seven or eight leaguesto hold in fusion all known substances, --there arises the question, whatis its precise value at the surface of the earth; what weight are we toattach to it in the determination of terrestrial temperatures; what partdoes it play in the phenomena of life?

According to Mairan, Buffon, and Bailly, this part is immense. ForFrance, they estimate the heat which escapes from the interior of theearth, at twenty-nine times in summer, and four hundred times in winter, the heat which comes to us from the sun. Thus, contrary to generalopinion, the heat of the body which illuminates us would form only avery small part of that whose propitious influence we feel. 

This idea was developed with ability and great eloquence in the _Memoirsof the Academy_, in the _Epoques sur la Nature_ of Buffon, in theletters from Bailly to Voltaire _upon the Origin of the Sciences andupon the Atlantide_. But the ingenious romance to which it has served asa base, has vanished like a shadow before the torch of mathematicalscience. 

Fourier having discovered that the excess of the aggregate temperatureof the earth's surface above that which would result from the soleaction of the solar rays, has a determinate relation to the increase oftemperature at different depths, succeeded in deducing from theexperimental value of this increase a numerical determination of theexcess in question. This excess is the thermometric effect which thesolar heat produces at the surface; now, instead of the large numbersadopted by Mairan, Bailly, and Buffon, what has our colleague found? _Athirtieth_ of a degree, not more. 

The surface of the earth, which originally was perhaps incandescent, hascooled then in the course of ages, so as hardly to preserve any sensibletrace of its primitive heat. However, at great depths, the original heatis still enormous. Time will alter sensibly the internal temperature;but at the surface (and the phenomena of the surface can alone modify orcompromise the existence of living beings), all the changes are almostaccomplished. The frightful freezing of the earth, the epoch of whichBuffon fixed at the instant when the central heat would be totallydissipated, is then a pure dream. At the surface, the earth is no longerimpregnated except by the solar heat. So long as the sun shall continueto preserve the same brightness, mankind will find, from pole to pole, under each latitude, the climates which have permitted them to live andto establish their residence. These, Gentlemen, are great, magnificentresults. While recording them in the annals of science, historians willnot neglect to draw attention to this singular peculiarity: that thegeometer to whom we owe the first certain demonstration of the existenceof a heat independent of a solar influence in the interior of the earth, has annihilated the immense part which this primitive heat was made toplay in the explanation of the phenomena of terrestrial temperature. 

Besides divesting the theory of climates of an error which occupied aprominent place in science, supported as it was by the imposingauthority of Mairan, of Bailly, and of Buffon, Fourier is entitled tothe merit of a still more striking achievement: he has introduced intothis theory a consideration which hitherto had been totally neglected;he has pointed out the influence exercised by the _temperature of thecelestial regions_, amid which the hearth describes its immense orbaround the sun. 

When we perceive, even under the equator, certain mountains covered witheternal snow, upon observing the rapid diminution of temperature whichthe strata of the atmosphere undergo during ascents in balloons, meteorologists have supposed, that in the regions wherein the extremerarity of the air will always exclude the presence of mankind, and thatespecially beyond the limits of the atmosphere, there ought to prevail aprodigious intensity of cold. It was not merely by hundreds, it was bythousands of degrees, that they had arbitrarily measured it. But, asusual, the imagination (_cette folie de la maison_) had exceeded allreasonable limits. The hundreds, the tens of thousands of degrees, havedwindled down, after the rigorous researches of Fourier, to fifty orsixty degrees only. Fifty or sixty degrees _beneath zero_, such is thetemperature which the radiation of heat from the stars has establishedin the regions furrowed indefinitely by the planets of our system. 

You recollect, Gentlemen, with what delight Fourier used to converse onthis subject. You know well that he thought himself sure of havingassigned the temperature of space within eight or ten degrees. By whatfatality has it happened that the memoir, wherein no doubt our colleaguehad recorded all the elements of that important determination, is not tobe found? May that irreparable loss prove at least to so many observers, that instead of pursuing obstinately an ideal perfection, which it isnot allotted to man to attain, they will act wisely in placing thepublic, as soon as possible, in the confidence of their labours. 

I should have yet a long course to pursue, if, after having pointed outsome of those problems of which the condition of science enabled ourlearned colleague to give numerical solutions, I were to analyze allthose which, still enveloped in general formulæ, await merely the dataof experience to assume a place among the most curious acquisitions ofmodern physics. Time, which is not at my disposal, precludes me fromdwelling upon such developments. I should be guilty, however, of anunpardonable omission, if I did not state that, among the formulas ofFourier, there is one which serves to assign the value of the secularcooling of the earth, and in which there is involved the number ofcenturies which have elapsed since the origin of this cooling. Thequestion of the antiquity of the earth, including even the period ofincandescence, which has been so keenly discussed, is thus reduced to athermometric determination. Unfortunately this point of theory issubject to serious difficulties. Besides, the thermometricdetermination, in consequence of its excessive smallness, must bereserved for future ages. 

RETURN OF NAPOLEON FROM ELBA. --FOURIER PREFECT OF THE RHONE. --HISNOMINATION TO THE OFFICE OF DIRECTOR OF THE BOARD OF STATISTICS OF THESEINE. 

I have just exhibited to you the scientific fruits of the leisure hoursof the Prefect of l'Isère. Fourier still occupied this situation whenNapoleon arrived at Cannes. His conduct during this grave conjuncturehas been the object of a hundred false rumours. I shall then discharge aduty by establishing the facts in all their truth, according to what Ihave heard from our colleague's own mouth. 

Upon the news of the Emperor having disembarked, the principalauthorities of Grenoble assembled at the residence of the Prefect. Thereeach individual explained ably, but especially, said Fourier, with muchdetail, the difficulties which he perceived. As regards the means ofvanquishing them, the authorities seemed to be much less inventive. Confidence in administrative eloquence was not yet worn out at thatepoch; it was resolved accordingly to have recourse to proclamations. The commanding officer and the Prefect presented each a project. Theassembly was discussing minutely the terms of them, when an officer ofthe gendarmes, an old soldier of the Imperial armies, exclaimed rudely, "Gentlemen, be quick, otherwise all deliberation will become useless. Believe me, I speak from experience; Napoleon always follows veryclosely the couriers who announce his arrival. " Napoleon was in factclose at hand. After a short moment of hesitation, two companies ofsappers which had been dispatched to cut down a bridge, joined theirformer commander. A battalion of infantry soon followed their example. Finally, upon the very glacis of the fortress, in presence of thenumerous population which crowned the ramparts, the fifth regiment ofthe line to a man assumed the tricolour cockade, substituted for thewhite flag the eagle, --witness of twenty battles, --which it hadpreserved, and departed with shouts of _Vive l'Empereur!_ After such acommencement, to attempt to hold the country would have been an act offolly. General Marchand caused accordingly the gates of the city to beshut. He still hoped, notwithstanding the evidently hostile dispositionof the inhabitants, to sustain a siege with the sole assistance of thethird regiment of engineers, the fourth regiment of artillery, and someweak detachments of infantry, which had not abandoned him. 

From that moment, the civil authority had disappeared. Fourier thoughtthen that he might quit Grenoble, and repair to Lyons, where the princeshad assembled together. At the second restoration, this departure wasimputed to him as a crime. He was very near being brought before a courtof assizes, or even a provost's court. Certain personages pretended thatthe presence of the Prefect of the chief place of l'Isère might haveconjured the storm; that the resistance might have been more animated, better arranged. People forgot that nowhere, and at Grenoble even lessthan anywhere else, was it possible to organize even a pretext ofresistance. Let us see then, finally, how this martial city, --the fallof which Fourier might have prevented by his mere presence, --let us seehow it was taken. It is eight o'clock in the evening. The inhabitantsand the soldiers garrison the ramparts. Napoleon precedes his littletroop by some steps; he advances even to the gate; he knocks (be notalarmed, Gentlemen, it is not a battle which I am about to describe, )_he knocks with his snuff-box!_ "Who is there?" cried the officer of theguard. "It is the Emperor! Open!"--"Sire, my duty forbids me. "--"Open--Itell you; I have no time to lose. "--"But, sire, even though I shouldopen to you, I could not. The keys are in the possession of GeneralMarchand. "--"Go, then, and fetch them. "--"I am certain that he willrefuse them to me. "--"If the General refuse them, _tell him that I willdismiss him_. "

These words petrified the soldiers. During the previous two days, hundreds of proclamations designated Bonaparte as a wild beast which itwas necessary to seize without scruple; they ordered everybody to runaway from him, and yet this man threatened the general with deprivationof his command! The single word _dismissal_, effaced the faint line ofdemarcation which separated for an instant the old soldiers from theyoung recruits; one word established the whole garrison in the interestof the emperor. 

The circumstances of the capture of Grenoble were not yet known whenFourier arrived at Lyons. He brought thither the news of the rapidadvance of Napoleon; that of the revolt of two companies of sappers, ofa regiment of infantry, and of the regiment commanded by Labédoyère. Moreover, he was a witness of the lively sympathy which the countrypeople along the whole route displayed in favour of the proscribed exileof Elba. 

The Count d'Artois gave a very cold reception to the Prefect and hiscommunications. He declared that the arrival of Napoleon at Grenoble wasimpossible; that no alarm need be apprehended respecting the dispositionof the country people. "As regards the facts, " said he to Fourier, "which would seem to have occurred in your presence at the very gates ofthe city, with respect to the tricoloured cockades substituted for thecockade of Henry IV. , with respect to the eagles which you say havereplaced the white flag, I do not suspect your good faith, but theuneasy state of your mind must have dazzled your eyes. Prefect, returnthen without delay to Grenoble; you will answer for the city with yourhead. "

You see, Gentlemen, after having so long proclaimed the necessity oftelling the truth to princes, moralists will act wisely by invitingprinces to be good enough to listen to its language. 

Fourier obeyed the order which had just been given him. The wheels ofhis carriage had made only a few revolutions in the direction ofGrenoble, when he was arrested by hussars, and conducted to thehead-quarters at Bourgoin. The Emperor, who was engaged in examining alarge chart with a pair of compasses, said, upon seeing him enter:"Well, Prefect, you also have declared war against me?"--"Sire, my oathof allegiance made it my duty to do so!"--"A duty you say? and do younot see that in Dauphiny nobody is of the same mind? Do not imagine, however, that your plan of the campaign will frighten me much. It onlygrieved me to see among my enemies an _Egyptian_, a man who had eatenalong with me the bread of the bivouac, an old friend!"

It is painful to add that to those kind words succeeded these also:"How, moreover, could you have forgotten, Monsieur Fourier, that I havemade you what you are?"

You will regret with me, Gentlemen, that a timidity, which circumstanceswould otherwise easily explain, should have prevented our colleague fromat once emphatically protesting against this confusion, which thepowerful of the earth are constantly endeavouring to establish betweenthe perishable bounties of which they are the dispensers, and the noblefruits of thought. Fourier was Prefect and Baron by the favour of theEmperor; he was one of the glories of France by his own genius!

On the 9th of March, Napoleon, in a moment of anger, ordered Fourier, bya mandate, dated from Grenoble, _to quit the territory of the seventhmilitary division within five days, under pain of being arrested andtreated as an enemy of the country!_ On the following day, our colleaguedeparted from the Conference of Bourgoin, with the appointment ofPrefect of the Rhone and the title of _Count_, for the Emperor after hisreturn from Elba was again at his old practices. 

These unexpected proofs of favour and confidence afforded littlepleasure to our colleague, but he dared not refuse them, although heperceived very distinctly the immense gravity of the events in which hewas led by the vicissitude of fortune to play a part. 

"What do you think of my enterprise?" said the Emperor to him on the dayof his departure from Lyons. "Sire, " replied Fourier, "I am of opinionthat you will fail. Let but a fanatic meet you on your way, and all isat an end. "--"Bah!" exclaimed Napoleon, "the Bourbons have nobody ontheir side, not even a fanatic. In connection with this circumstance, you have read in the journals that they have excluded me from theprotection of the law. I shall be more indulgent on my part; I shallcontent myself with excluding them from the Tuileries. "

Fourier held the appointment of Prefect of the Rhone only till the 1stof May. It has been alleged that he was recalled, because he refused tobe accessory to the deeds of terrorism which the minister of the hundreddays enjoined him to execute. The Academy will always be pleased when Icollect together, and place on record, actions which, while honouringits members, throw new lustre around the entire body. I even feel that, in such a case, I may be disposed to be somewhat credulous. On thepresent occasion, it was imperatively necessary to institute a mostrigorous examination. If Fourier honoured himself by refusing to obeycertain orders, what are we to think of the minister of the interiorfrom whom those orders emanated? Now this minister, it must not beforgotten, was also an academician, illustrious by his militaryservices, distinguished by his mathematical works, esteemed andcherished by all his colleagues. Well! I declare, Gentlemen, with asatisfaction which you will all share, that a most scrupulousinvestigation of all the acts of the hundred days has not disclosed atrace of anything which might detract from the feelings of admirationwith which the memory of Carnot is associated in your minds. 

Upon quitting the Prefecture of the Rhone, Fourier repaired to Paris. The Emperor, who was then upon the eve of setting out to join the army, perceiving him amid the crowd at the Tuileries, accosted him in afriendly manner, informed him that Carnot would explain to him why hisdisplacement at Lyons had become indispensable, and promised to attendto his interest as soon as military affairs would allow him some leisuretime. The second restoration found Fourier in the capital withoutemployment, and justly anxious with respect to the future. He, who, during a period of fifteen years, administered the affairs of a greatdepartment; who directed works of such an expensive nature; who, in theaffair of the marshes of Bourgoin, had to contract engagements for somany millions, with private individuals, with the communes and withpublic companies, had not _twenty thousand francs_ in his possession. This honourable poverty, as well as the recollection of glorious andimportant services, was little calculated to make an impression uponministers influenced by political passion, and subject to the capriciousinterference of foreigners. A demand for a pension was accordinglyrepelled with rudeness. Be reassured, however, France will not have toblush for having left in poverty one of her principal ornaments. ThePrefect of Paris, --I have committed a mistake, Gentlemen, a proper namewill not be out of place here, --M. Chabrol, learns that his oldprofessor at the Polytechnic School, that the Perpetual Secretary of theInstitute of Egypt, that the author of the _Théorie Analytique de laChaleur_, was reduced, in order to obtain the means of living, to giveprivate lessons at the residences of his pupils. The idea of thisrevolts him. He accordingly shows himself deaf to the clamours of party, and Fourier receives from him the superior direction of the _Bureau dela Statistique_ of the Seine, with a salary of 6, 000 francs. It hasappeared to me, Gentlemen, that I ought not to suppress these details. Science may show herself grateful towards all those who give her supportand protection, when there is some danger in doing so, without fearingthat the burden should ever become too heavy. 

Fourier responded worthily to the confidence reposed in him by M. DeChabrol. The memoirs with which he enriched the interesting volumespublished by the Prefecture of the Seine, will serve henceforth as aguide to all those who have the good sense to see in statistics, something else than an indigestible mass of figures and tables. 

ENTRANCE OF FOURIER INTO THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCES. --HIS ELECTION TO THEOFFICE OF PERPETUAL SECRETARY. --HIS ADMISSION TO THE FRENCH ACADEMY. 

The Academy of Sciences seized the first occasion which offered itselfto attach Fourier to its interests. On the 27th of May, 1816, he wasnominated a free academician. This election was not confirmed. Thesolicitations and influence of the Dauphin whom circumstances detainedat Paris, had almost disarmed the authorities, when a courtier exclaimedthat an amnesty was to be granted to _the civil Labédoyère!_[41] Thisword, --for during many ages past the poor human race has been governedby words, --decided the fate of our colleague. Thanks to politicalintrigue, the ministers of Louis XVIII. Decided that one of the mostlearned men of France should not belong to the Academy; that a citizenwho enjoyed the friendship of all the most distinguished persons in themetropolis, should be publicly stricken with disapprobation!

In our country, the reign of absurdity does not last long. Accordinglyin 1817, when the Academy, without being discouraged by the ill successof its first attempt, unanimously nominated Fourier to the place whichhad just been vacant in the section of physics, the royal confirmationwas accorded without difficulty. I ought to add that soon afterwards, the ruling authorities whose repugnances were entirely dissipated, frankly and unreservedly applauded the happy choice which you made ofthe learned geometer to replace Delambre as perpetual secretary. Theyeven went so far as to offer him the Directorship of the Fine Arts; butour colleague had the good sense to refuse the appointment. 

Upon the death of Lémontey, the French Academy, where Laplace and Cuvieralready represented the sciences, called also Fourier into its bosom. The literary titles of the most eloquent of the writers connected withthe work on Egypt were incontestable; they even were not contested, andstill this nomination excited violent discussions in the journals, whichprofoundly grieved our colleague. And yet after all, was it not a fitsubject for discussion, whether, these double nominations are of anyreal utility? Might it not be maintained, without incurring the reproachof paradox, that it extinguishes in youth an emulation which we arebound by every consideration to encourage? Besides, with double, triple, and quadruple academicians, what would eventually become of the justlyboasted unity of the Institute? Without insisting further on theseremarks, the justness of which you will admit if I mistake not, I hastento repeat that the academic titles of Fourier did not form even thesubject of a doubt. The applause which was lavished upon the eloquentéloges of Delambre, of Bréguet, of Charles, and of Herschel, wouldsufficiently evince that, if their author had not been already one ofthe most distinguished members of the Academy of Sciences, the publicwould have invited him to assume a place among the judges of Frenchliterature. 

FOOTNOTE:

[41] In allusion to the _military_ traitor Colonel Labédoyère, who wascondemned to death for espousing the cause of Napoleon. --_Translator_. 

CHARACTER OF FOURIER. --HIS DEATH. 

Restored at length, after so many vicissitudes, to his favouritepursuits, Fourier passed the last years of his life in retirement andin the discharge of academic duties. _To converse_ had become the halfof his existence. Those who have been disposed to consider this thesubject of just reproach, have no doubt forgotten that constantreflection is no less imperiously forbidden to man than the abuse ofphysical powers. Repose, in every thing, recruits our frail machine;but, Gentlemen, he who desires repose may not obtain it. Interrogateyour own recollections and say, if, when you are pursuing a new truth, awalk, the intercourse of society, or even sleep, have the privilege ofdistracting you from the object of your thoughts? The extremelyshattered state of Fourier's health enjoined the most careful attention. After many attempts, he only found one means of escaping from thecontentions of mind which exhausted him: this consisted in speakingaloud upon the events of his life; upon his scientific labours, whichwere either in course of being planned, or which were alreadyterminated; upon the acts of injustice of which he had reason tocomplain. Every person must have remarked, how insignificant was thestate which our gifted colleague assigned to those who were in the habitof conversing with him; we are now acquainted with the cause of this. 

Fourier had preserved, in old age, the grace, the urbanity, the variedknowledge which, a quarter of a century previously, had imparted sogreat a charm to his lectures at the Polytechnic School. There was apleasure in hearing him relate the anecdote which the listener alreadyknew by heart, even the events in which the individual had taken adirect part. I happened to be a witness of the kind of _fascination_which he exercised upon his audience, in connection with an incidentwhich deserves to be known, for it will prove that the word which I havejust employed is not in anywise exaggerated. 

We found ourselves seated at the same table. The guest from whom Iseparated him was an old officer. Our colleague was informed of this, and the question, "Have you been in Egypt?" served as the commencementof a conversation between them. The reply was in the affirmative. Fourier hastened to add: "As regards myself, I remained in thatmagnificent country until the period of its complete evacuation. Although foreign to the profession of arms, I have, in the midst of oursoldiers, fired against the insurgents of Cairo; I have had the honourof hearing the cannon of Heliopolis. " Hence to give an account of thebattle was but a step. This step was soon made, and we were presentedwith four battalions drawn up in squares in the plain of Quoubbéh, andmanoeuvring, with admirable precision, conformably to the orders ofthe illustrious geometer. My neighbour, with attentive ear, withimmovable eyes, and with outstretched neck, listened to this recitalwith the liveliest interest. He did not lose a single syllable of it:one would have sworn that he had for the first time heard of thosememorable events. Gentlemen, it is so delightful a task to please! Afterhaving remarked the effect which he produced, Fourier reverted, withstill greater detail, to the principal fight of those great days: to thecapture of the fortified village of Mattaryeh, to the passage of twofeeble columns of French grenadiers across ditches heaped up with thedead and wounded of the Ottoman army. "Generals ancient and modern, havesometimes spoken of similar deeds of prowess, " exclaimed our colleague, "but it was in the hyperbolic style of the bulletin: here the fact ismaterially true, --it is true like geometry. I feel conscious, however, "added he, "that in order to induce your belief in it, all my assuranceswill not be more than sufficient. "

"Do not be anxious upon this point, " replied the officer, who at thatmoment seemed to awaken from a long dream. "In case of necessity, Imight guarantee the accuracy of your statement. It was I who, at thehead of the grenadiers of the 13th and 85th semi-brigades, forced theentrenchments of Mattaryeh, by passing over the dead bodies of theJanissaries!"

My neighbour was General Tarayre: you may imagine much better than I canexpress, the effect of the few words which had just escaped from him. Fourier made a thousand excuses, while I reflected upon the seductiveinfluence, upon the power of language, which for more than half an hourhad robbed the celebrated general even of the recollection of the partwhich he had played in the battle of giants he was listening to. 

The more our secretary had occasion to converse, the greater repugnancehe experienced to verbal discussions. Fourier cut short every debate assoon as there presented itself a somewhat marked difference of opinion, only to resume afterwards the same subject upon the modest pretext ofmaking a small step in advance each time. Some one asked Fontaine, acelebrated geometer of this Academy, how he occupied his thoughts insociety, wherein he maintained an almost absolute silence: "I observe, "he replied, "the vanity of mankind, to wound it as occasion offers. " If, like his predecessor, Fourier also studied the baser passions whichcontend for honours, riches, and power, it was not in order to engage inhostilities with them: resolved never to compromise matters with them, he yet so calculated his movements beforehand, as not to find himself intheir way. We perceive a wide difference between this disposition andthe ardent impetuous character of the young orator of the popularsociety of Auxerre. But what purpose would philosophy serve, if it didnot teach us to conquer our passions? It is not that occasionally thenatural disposition of Fourier did not display itself in full relief. "It is strange, " said one day a certain very influential personage ofthe court of Charles X. , whom Fourier's servant would not allow to passbeyond the antechamber of our colleague, --"it is truly strange that yourmaster should be more difficult of access than a minister!" Fourierheard the conversation, leaped out of his bed to which he was confinedby indisposition, opened the door of the chamber, and exclaimed, face toface with the courtier: "Joseph, tell Monsieur, that if I was minister, I should receive everybody, because it would be my duty to do so; but, being a private individual, I receive whomsoever I please, and at whathour soever I please!" Disconcerted by the liveliness of the retort, thegreat seignior did not utter one word in reply. We must even believethat from that moment he resolved not to visit any but ministers, forthe plain man of science heard nothing more of him. 

Fourier was endowed with a constitution which held forth a promise oflong life; but what can natural advantages avail against theanti-hygienic habits which men arbitrarily acquire! In order to guardagainst slight attacks of rheumatism, our colleague was in the habit ofclothing himself, even in the hottest season of the year, after afashion which is not practised even by travellers condemned to spend thewinter amid the snows of the polar regions. "One would suppose me to becorpulent, " he used to say occasionally with a smile; "be assured, however, that there is much to deduct from this opinion. If, after theexample of the Egyptian mummies, I was subjected to the operation ofdisembowelment, --from which heaven preserve me, --the residue would befound to be a very slender body. " I might add, selecting also mycomparison from the banks of the Nile, that in the apartments ofFourier, which were always of small extent, and intensely heated even insummer, the currents of air to which one was exposed resembled sometimesthe terrible simoon, that burning wind of the desert, which the caravansdread as much as the plague. 

The prescriptions of medicine which, in the mouth of M. Larrey, wereblended with the anxieties of a long and constant friendship, failed toinduce a modification of of this mortal régime. Fourier had alreadyexperienced, in Egypt and Grenoble, some attacks of aneurism of theheart. At Paris, it was impossible to be mistaken with respect to theprimary cause of the frequent suffocations which he experienced. A fall, however, which he sustained on the 4th of May, 1830, while descending aflight of stairs, aggravated the malady to an extent beyond what couldhave been ever feared. Our colleague, notwithstanding pressingsolicitations, persisted in refusing to combat the most threateningsymptoms, except by the aid of patience and a high temperature. On the16th of May, 1830, about four o'clock in the evening, Fourierexperienced in his study a violent crisis the serious nature of which hewas far from being sensible of; for, having thrown himself completelydressed upon his bed, he requested M. Petit, a young doctor of hisacquaintance who carefully attended him, not to go far away, in order, said he, that we may presently converse together. But to these wordssucceeded soon the cries, "Quick, quick! some vinegar! I am fainting!"and one of the men of science who has shed the brightest lustre upon theAcademy had ceased to live. 

Gentlemen, this cruel event is too recent, that I should recall herethe grief which the Institute experienced upon losing one of its mostimportant members; and those obsequies, on the occasion of which so manypersons, usually divided by interests and opinions, united together, inone common feeling of admiration and regret, around the mortal remainsof Fourier; and the Polytechnic School swelling in a mass the cortége, in order to render homage to one of its earliest, of its most celebratedprofessors; and the words which, on the brink of the tomb, depicted soeloquently the profound mathematician, the elegant writer, the uprightadministrator, the good citizen, the devoted friend. We shall merelystate that Fourier belonged to all the great learned societies of theworld, that they united with the most touching unanimity in the mourningof the Academy, in the mourning of all France: a striking testimony thatthe republic of letters is no longer, in the present day, merely a vainname! What, then, was wanting to the memory of our colleague? A moreable successor than I have been to exhibit in full relief the differentphases of a life so varied, so laborious, so gloriously interlaced withthe greatest events of the most memorable epochs of our history. Fortunately, the scientific discoveries of the illustrious secretary hadnothing to dread from the incompetency of the panegyrist. My object willhave been completely attained if, notwithstanding the imperfection of mysketches, each of you will have learned that the progress of generalphysics, of terrestrial physics, and of geology, will daily multiply thefertile applications of the _Théorie Analytique de la Chaleur_, and thatthis work will transmit the name of Fourier down to the remotestposterity. 

THE END. 

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