the part of the military authorities. I had left for Spain, still
holding the title of pupil of the Polytechnic School. My name could not
remain on the books more than four years; consequently I had been
enjoined to return to France to go through the examinations necessary on
quitting the school. But in the meantime Lalande died, and thus a place
in the Bureau of Longitude became vacant. I was named assistant
astronomer. These places were submitted to the nomination of the
Emperor. M. Lacuée, Director of the Conscription, thought that, through
this latter circumstance, the law would be satisfied, and I was
authorized to continue my operations.
M. Matthieu Dumas, who succeeded him, looked at the question from an
entirely different point of view; he enjoined me either to furnish a
substitute, or else to set off myself with the contingent of the twelfth
arrondissement of Paris.
All my remonstrances and those of my friends having been fruitless, I
announced to the honourable General that I should present myself in the
Place de l'Estrapade, whence the conscripts had to depart, in the
costume of a member of the Institute; and that thus I should march on
foot through the city of Paris. General Matthieu Dumas was alarmed at
the effect which this scene would produce on the Emperor, himself a
member of the Institute, and hastened, under fear of my threat, to
confirm the decision of General Lacuée.
In the year 1809, I was chosen by the "conseil du perfectionnement" of
the Polytechnic School, to succeed M. Monge, in his chair of Analysis
applied to Geometry. The circumstances attending that nomination have
remained a secret; I seize the first opportunity which offers itself to
me to make them known.
M. Monge took the trouble to come to me one day, at the Observatory, to
ask me to succeed him. I declined this honour, because of a proposed
journey 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 the
illustrious geometer; "you could, therefore, take my place temporarily."
"Your proposal," I replied, "flatters me infinitely; but I do not know
whether I ought to accept it. I have never read your great work on
partial differential equations; I do not, therefore, feel certain that I
should be competent to give lessons to the pupils of the Polytechnic
School on such a difficult theory." "Try," said he, "and you will find
that 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 well
founded.
The public could not comprehend, at that time, how it was that the
benevolent M. Monge obstinately refused to confide the delivery of his
course to M. Binet, (a private teacher under him,) whose zeal was well
known. It is this motive which I am going to reveal.
There was then in the "Bois de Boulogne" a residence named the _Grey
House_, where there assembled round M. Coessin, the high-priest of a new
religion, a number of adepts, such as Lesueur, the musician, Colin,
private teacher of chemistry at the school, M. Binet, &c. A report from
the prefect of police had signified to the Emperor that the frequenters
of the Grey House were connected with the Society of Jesuits. The
Emperor was uneasy and irritated at this. "Well," said he to M. Monge,
"there are your dear pupils become disciples of Loyola!" And on Monge's
denial, "You deny it," answered the Emperor; "well, then, know that the
private teacher of your course is in that clique." Every one can
understand that after such a remark, Monge could not consent to being
succeeded by M. Binet.
Having entered the academy, young, ardent, and impassioned, I took much
greater part in the nominations than may have been suitable for my
position and my time of life. Arrived at an epoch of life whence I
examine retrospectively all my actions with calmness and impartiality, I
can render this amount of justice to myself, that, excepting in three or
four instances, my vote and interest were always in favour of the most
deserving candidate, and more than once I succeeded in preventing the
Academy from making a deplorable choice. Who could blame me for having
maintained with energy the election of Malus, considering that his
competitor, M. Girard, unknown as a physicist, obtained twenty-two votes
out of fifty-three, and that an addition of five votes would have given
him the victory over the savant who had just discovered the phenomenon
of polarization by reflection, over the savant whom Europe would have
named by acclamation? The same remarks are applicable to the nomination
of Poisson, who would have failed against this same M. Girard if four
votes had been otherwise given. Does not this suffice to justify the
unusual ardour of my conduct? Although in a third trial the majority of
the Academy was decided in favour of the same engineer, I cannot regret
that I supported up to the last moment with conviction and warmth the
election of his competitor, M. Dulong.
I do not suppose that, in the scientific world, any one will he disposed
to blame me for having preferred M. Liouville to M. de Pontécoulant.
Sometimes it happened that the Government wished to influence the choice
of the Academy; with a strong sense of my rights I invariably resisted
all dictation. Once this resistance acted unfortunately on one of my
friends--the venerable Legendre; as to myself, I had prepared myself
beforehand for all the persecutions of which I could be made the object.
Having received from the Minister of the Interior an invitation to vote
for M. Binet against M. Navier on the occurrence of a vacant place in
the section of mechanics, Legendre nobly answered that he would vote
according to his soul and his conscience. He was immediately deprived of
a pension which his great age and his long services rendered due to him.
The _protégé_ of the authorities failed; and, at the time, this result
was attributed to the activity with which I enlightened the members of
the Academy as to the impropriety of the Minister's proceedings.
On another occasion the King wished the Academy to name Dupuytren, the
eminent surgeon, but whose character at the time lay under grave
imputations. Dupuytren was nominated, but several blanks protested
against 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 sorrow
of finding myself in opposition to M. de Laplace. The illustrious
geometer wished a vacant place in the astronomical section to be granted
to M. Nicollet,--a man without talent, and, moreover, suspected of
misdeeds which reflected on his honour in the most serious degree. At
the close of a contest, which I maintained undisguisedly,
notwithstanding the danger which might follow from thus braving the
powerful protectors of M. Nicollet, the Academy proceeded to the ballot;
the respected M. Damoiseau, whose election I had supported, obtained
forty-five votes out of forty-eight. Thus M. Nicollet had collected but
three.
"I see," said M. de Laplace to me, "that it is useless to struggle
against 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 the
opinion justly preponderating for M. de Laplace, when the right is found
to be without possible contradiction on his side."
A short time afterwards M. Nicollet had run away to America, and the
Bureau of Longitude had a warrant passed to expel him ignominiously from
its bosom.
I would warn those savans, who, having early entered the Academy, might
be tempted to imitate my example, to expect nothing beyond the
satisfaction of their conscience. I warn them, with a knowledge of the
case, that gratitude will almost always be found wanting.
The elected academician, whose merits you have sometimes exalted beyond
measure, pretends that you have done no more than justice to him; that
you have only fulfilled a duty, and that he therefore owes you no
thanks.
Delambre died the 19th August, 1822. After the necessary delay, they
proceeded to fill his place. The situation of Perpetual Secretary is not
one which can long be left vacant. The Academy named a commission to
present it with candidates; it was composed of Messrs. de Laplace,
Arago, Legendre, Rossel, Prony, and Lacroix. The list presented was
composed of the names of Messrs. Biot, Fourier, and Arago. It is not
necessary for me to say with what obstinacy I opposed the inscription of
my name on this list; I was compelled to give way to the will of my
colleagues, but I seized the first opportunity of declaring publicly
that 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 get
through; that in this respect M. Biot was in the same position; and
that, 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 the
ballot. The result was as follows: M. Fourier received thirty-eight
votes, and M. Biot ten. In a case of this nature each man carefully
conceals his vote, in order not to run the risk of future disagreement
with him who may be invested with the authority which the Academy gives
to the perpetual secretary. I do not know whether I shall be pardoned if
I 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 saw
distinctly that the illustrious geometer wrote the name of Fourier on
both of them. After quietly folding them up, M. de Laplace put the
papers 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 shall
put the other into the urn; I shall thus be myself ignorant for which of
the two candidates I have voted."
All went on as the celebrated academician had said; only that every one
knew with certainty that his vote had been for Fourier; and "the
calculation of probabilities" was in no way necessary for arriving at
this result.
After having fulfilled the duties of secretary with much distinction,
but not without some feebleness and negligence in consequence of his bad
health, Fourier died the 16th of May, 1830. I declined several times the
honour which the Academy appeared willing to do me, in naming me to
succeed him. I believed, without false modesty, that I had not the
qualities necessary to fill this important place suitably. When
thirty-nine out of forty-four voters had appointed me, it was quite time
that I should give in to an opinion so flattering and so plainly
expressed. On the 7th of June, 1830, I, therefore, became perpetual
secretary of the Academy for the Mathematical Sciences; but, conformably
to the plea of an accumulation of offices, which I had used as an
argument to support, in November, 1822, the election of M. Fournier, I
declared that I should give in my resignation of the Professorship in
the Polytechnic School. Neither the solicitations of Marshal Soult, the
Minister 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 the
author might not have had a hand in the revolution, from which he
endeavours above to exculpate himself.
[2] Méchain, member of the Academy of Sciences and of the Institute, was
charged in 1792 with the prolongation of the measure of the arc of the
meridian 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 Eastern
Pyrenees. Later, in 1803, when the question was agitated as to the
continuation of the measure of the meridian line as far as the Balearic
Islands, M. Méchain went again to Perpignan, and came to pay my father a
visit. As I was about setting off to undergo the examination for
admission at the Polytechnic School, my father ventured to ask him
whether he could not recommend me to M. Monge. "Willingly," answered he;
"but, with the frankness which is my characteristic, I ought not to
leave you unaware that it appears to me improbable that your son, left
to himself, can have rendered himself completely master of the subjects
of which the programme consists. If, however, he be admitted, let him be
destined for the artillery, or for the engineers; the career of the
sciences, of which you have talked to me, is really too difficult to go
through, and unless he had a special calling for it, your son would only
find it deceptive." Anticipating a little the order of dates, let us
compare this advice with what occurred: I went to Toulouse, underwent
the examination, and was admitted; one year and a half afterwards I
filled the situation of secretary at the Observatory, which had become
vacant by the resignation of M. Méchain's son; one year and a half
later, that is to say, four years after the Perpignan "horoscope,"
associated with M. Biot, I filled the place, in Spain, of the celebrated
academician who had died there, a victim to his labours.
[3] This appears to be an oversight, as in a preceding page M. Arago
described the fortunate release of Captain Krog from this captivity.
[4] On my return to Paris I hastened to the Jardin des Plantes to pay a
visit to the lion, but he received me with a very unamiable gnashing of
the teeth. Think then of the marvellous history of the Florentine lion,
the subject of so many engravings, which is offered on the stall of
every printseller to the eyes of the moved and astonished passers-by.
[5] An "_épileur_" is a person who removes superfluous hairs. We have
been unable to ascertain what office of this kind is performed in
Mohammedan funerals.
BAILLY.
BIOGRAPHY READ AT THE PUBLIC SITTING OF THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCES, THE
26TH OF FEBRUARY, 1844.
INTRODUCTION.
Gentlemen,--The learned man, illustrious in so many ways, whose life I
am going to relate, was taken from France half a century ago. I hasten
to make this remark, so as thoroughly to show that I have selected this
subject without being deterred by complaints which I look upon as unjust
and inapplicable. The glory of the members of the early Academy of
Sciences is an inheritance for the present Academy. We must cherish it
as we would the glory of later days; we must hallow it with the same
respect, 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 who
preceded us, a man, already illustrious by his labours, and, without
personal ambition, yet thrown, despite himself, into the midst of a
terrible revolution, exposed to a thousand unrestrained passions, had
cruelly disappeared in the political effervescence--oh! then, any
negligence, any delay in studying the facts would be inexcusable; the
honourable contemporaries of the victim would soon be no longer there to
shed the light of their honest and impartial memory on obscure events;
an existence devoted to the cultivation of reason and of truth would
come to be appreciated only from documents, on which, for my part, I
would not blindly draw, until it shall be proved that, in revolutionary
times, we can trust to the uprightness of parties.
I felt in duty bound, Gentlemen, to give you a sketch of the ideas that
have led me to present to you a detailed account of the life and labours
of a member of the early Academy of Sciences. The biographies which will
soon follow this, will show that the studies I have undertaken
respecting Carnot, Condorcet, and Bailly, have not prevented me from
attending seriously to our illustrious contemporaries.
To render them a loyal and truthful homage, is the first duty of the
secretaries of the Academy, and I will religiously fulfil it; without
binding myself, however, to observe a strict chronological order, or to
follow the civil registers step by step.
Eulogies, said an ancient authority, should be deferred until we have
lost the true measure of the dead. Then we could make giants of them
without any one opposing us. On the contrary, I am of opinion that
biographers, especially those of academicians, ought to make all
possible haste, so that every one may be represented according to his
true measure, and that well-informed people may have the opportunity of
rectifying the mistakes which, notwithstanding every care, almost
inevitably slip into this sort of composition. I regret that our former
secretaries did not adopt this rule. By deferring from year to year to
analyze 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 a
multitude of serious errors, which have added considerably to the
difficulty of my task. When I was led to form very different opinions
from those that are found spread through some of the most celebrated
works, on the events of the great revolution of 1789, in which our
fellow-academician took an active part, I could not be so conceited as
to expect to be believed on my own word. To propound my opinions then
was insufficient; I had also to combat those of the historians with whom
I differed. This necessity has given to the biography that I am going to
read an unusual length. I solicit the kind sympathy of the assembly on
this point. I hope to obtain it, I acknowledge, when I consider that my
task is to analyze before you the scientific and literary claims of an
illustrious colleague, to depict the uniformly noble and patriotic
conduct of the first President of the National Assembly; to follow the
first Mayor of Paris in all the acts of an administration, the
difficulties of which appeared to be above human strength; to accompany
the virtuous magistrate to the very scaffold, to unroll the mournful
phases 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 the
French Revolution.
INFANCY OF BAILLY.--HIS YOUTH.--HIS LITERARY ESSAYS.--HIS MATHEMATICAL
STUDIES.
John Sylvain Bailly was born at Paris in 1736. His parents were James
Bailly 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 for
upwards of a century.
Sylvain, while young, never quitted his paternal home. His mother would
not be separated from him; it was not that she could give him the
instruction required from masters in childhood, but a tenderness,
allowed to run to the utmost extreme, entirely blinded her. Bailly then
formed his own mind, under the eye of his parents. Nothing could be
better, it seemed, than the boyhood of our brother academician, to
verify the oft-repeated theory, touching the influence of imitation on
the development of our faculties. Here, the result, attentively
examined, would not by a great deal agree with the old hypothesis. I
know not but, every thing considered, whether it would rather furnish
powerful weapons to whoever would wish to maintain that, in its early
habits, childhood rather seeks for contrasts.
James Bailly had an idle and light character; whilst young Sylvain from
the 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 consisted
in motion, sallies, witty conversations, free and easy parties, the
little gay suppers of those days.
The son, on the contrary, would remain alone and quite silent for whole
days. His mind sufficed to itself; he never sought the fellowship of
companions of his own age. Extreme steadiness was at once his habit and
his taste.
The warder of the king's pictures drew remarkably well, but did not
appear to have troubled himself much with the principles of art.
His son Sylvain studied those principles deeply, and to some purpose; he
became a theoretic artist of the first class, but he never could either
draw or paint even moderately well.
There are few young people who would not, at some time or other, have
wished to escape from the scrutinizing eyes of their parents. The
contrary was the case in Bailly's family, for James used sometimes to
say to his friends or to his servants, "Do not mention this peccadillo
to 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 a
censure 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 their
taste for poetry, or perhaps we ought to say versification, but even
here we shall perceive differences.
The father composed songs, little interludes, and farces that were acted
at the _Italian Comedy_; but the son commenced at the age of sixteen by
a serious work of time,--a tragedy.
This tragedy was entitled _Clothaire_. The subject, drawn from the early
centuries of the French History, had led Bailly by a curious and
touching coincidence to relate the tortures inflicted on a Mayor of
Paris by a deluded and barbarous multitude. The work was modestly
submitted to the actor Lanoue, who, although he bestowed flattering
encouragement on Bailly, dissuaded him frankly from exposing _Clothaire_
to the risk of a public representation. On the advice of the
comedian-author, the young poet took _Iphygenia in Tauris_ for the
subject of his second composition. Such was his ardour, that by the end
of three months, he had already written the last line of the fifth act
of his new tragedy, and hastened to Passy, to solicit the opinion of the
author of _Mahomet II_. This time Lanoue thought he perceived that his
confiding young friend was not intended by nature for the drama, and he
declared it to him without disguise. Bailly heard the fatal sentence
with more resignation than could have been expected from a youth whose
budding self-esteem received so violent a shock. He even threw his two
tragedies 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 the
criticism of a friend; for the author went so far as to call forth the
noisy judgment of the pit.
Certainly no astronomer will regret that any opinions either off-hand or
well digested, on the first literary productions of Bailly, contributed
to throw him into the pursuit of science. Still, for the sake of
principle, it seems just to protest against the praises given to the
foresight of Lanoue, to the sureness of his judgment, to the excellence
of his advice. What was it in fact? A lad of sixteen or seventeen years
of age, composes two tolerable tragedies, and these essays are made
irrevocably to decide on his future fate. We have then forgotten that
Racine had already reached the age of twenty-two, when he first
appeared, producing _Theagenes and Charicles_, and the _Inimical
Brothers_; that Crébillon was nearly forty years of age when he composed
a tragedy on _The Death of the Sons of Brutus_, of which not a single
verse has been preserved; finally, that the two first comedies of
Molière, _The three rival Doctors_ and _The Schoolmaster_, are no longer
known but by their titles. Let us recall to mind that reflection of
Voltaire's: "It is very difficult to succeed before the age of thirty in
a branch of literature that requires a knowledge of the world and of the
human heart."