dating ten years back. But was his promise absolute? Engaging himself
personally to Bailly for a situation that might not become vacant for
ten or fifteen years, had D'Alembert, contrary to his duty as an
academician, declared beforehand, that any other candidate, whatever
might be his talents, would be to him as not existing?
This is what ought to have been ascertained, before giving themselves up
to such violent and odious imputations.
Was it not quite natural that the geometer D'Alembert, having to
pronounce his opinion between two honourable learned men, gave the
preference to the candidate who seemed to him most imbued with the
higher mathematics? The éloges of Condorcet were, besides, by their
style, much more in harmony with those that the Academy had approved
during three quarters of a century. Before the declaration of the
vacancy on the 27th of February, 1773, D'Alembert said to Voltaire,
relative to the recueil by Condorcet, "Some one asked me the other day
what 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 its
departments as the éloges by Fontenelle. There is a more noble and more
modest philosophy in it, though bold."
And excitement in words and action could not be legitimately reproached
in a man who had felt himself supported by a conviction of such distinct
and 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 longer
any 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 as
D'Alembert's opposition, to make Bailly's claims fail. Vainly did the
celebrated astronomer flatter himself in his exordium, "that M. de
Fouchy, who, as Secretary of the Academy, had already paid his tribute
to Lacaille, would not be displeased at his having followed him in the
same career ... that he would not be blamed for repeating the praises
due to an illustrious man."
Bailly, in fact, was not blamed aloud; but when the hour for retreat had
sounded in M. de Fouchy's ear, without any fuss, without showing himself
offended in his self-love, remaining apparently modest, this learned
man, in asking for an assistant, selected one who had not undertaken to
repeat his éloges; who had not found his biographies insufficient. This
preference ought not to be, and was not, uninfluential in the result of
the competition.
Bailly, if Perpetual Secretary of the Academy, would have been obliged
to reside constantly at Paris. But Bailly, as member of the Astronomical
Section, might retire to the country, and thus escape those thieves of
time, as Byron called them, who especially abound in the metropolis.
Bailly settled at Chaillot. It was at Chaillot that our
fellow-academician composed his best works, those that will sail down
the stream of time.
Nature had endowed Bailly with the most happy memory. He did not write
his discourses till he had completed them in his head. His first copy
was always a clean copy. Every morning Bailly started early from his
humble residence at Chaillot; he went to the Bois de Boulogne, and
there, walking for many hours at a time, his powerful mind elaborated,
coördinated, and robed in all the pomps of language, those high
conceptions destined to charm successive generations. Biographers inform
us that Crébillon composed in a similar way. And this was, according to
several critics, the cause of the incorrectness, of the asperity of
style, which disfigure several pieces by that tragic poet. The works of
Bailly, and especially the discourses that complete the _History of
Astronomy_, invalidate this explanation. I could also appeal to the
elegant and pure productions of that poet whom France has just lost and
weeps for. No one indeed can be ignorant of his works; Casimir
Delavigne, like Bailly, never committed his verses to paper until he had
worked them up in his mind to that harmonious perfection which procured
for them the unanimous suffrages of all people of taste. Gentlemen,
pardon this reminiscence. The heart loves to connect such names as those
of Bailly and of Delavigne; those rare and glorious symbols, in whom we
find united talent, virtue, and an invariable patriotism.
HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY.--LETTERS ON THE ATLANTIS OF PLATO AND ON THE
ANCIENT HISTORY OF ASIA.
In 1775, Bailly published a quarto volume, entitled _History of Ancient
Astronomy, from its Origin up to the Establishment of the Alexandrian
School_. An analogous work for the lapse of time, comprised between the
Alexandrian School and 1730, appeared in 1779, in two volumes. An
additional volume appeared three years later, entitled the _History of
Modern Astronomy up to the Epoch of 1782_. The fifth part of this
immense composition, the _History of Indian Astronomy_, was published in
1787.
When Bailly undertook this general history of Astronomy, the science
possessed nothing of the sort. Erudition had seized upon some special
questions, some detailed points, but no commanding view had presided
over these investigations.
Weidler's book, published in 1741, was a mere simple nomenclature of the
astronomers of every age, and of every country; the dates of their birth
and death; the titles of their works. The utility of this precise
enumeration 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 few
lines; he says, "It is interesting to transport one's self back to the
times when Astronomy began; to observe how discoveries were connected
together, how errors have got mixed up with truth, have delayed the
knowledge of it, and retarded its progress; and, after having followed
the various epochs and traversed every climate, finally to contemplate
the edifice founded on the labours of successive centuries and of
various nations."
This vast plan essentially led to the minute discussion and comparison
of a multitude of passages both ancient and modern. If the author had
mixed up these discussions with the body of the work, he would have
laboured for astronomers only. If he had suppressed all discussions, the
book would have interested amateurs only. To avoid this double rock,
Bailly decided on writing a connected narrative with the quintessence of
the facts, and to place the proofs and the discussions of the merely
conjectural parts, under the appellation of explanations in separate
chapters. Bailly's History, without forfeiting the character of a
serious and erudite work, became accessible to the public in general,
and contributed to disseminate accurate notions of Astronomy both among
literary men and among general society.
When Bailly declared, in the beginning of his book, that he would go
back to the very commencement of Astronomy, the reader might expect some
pages of pure imagination. I know not, however, whether any body would
have expected a chapter of the first volume to be entitled, _Of
Antediluvian Astronomy_.
The principal conclusion to which Bailly comes, after an attentive
examination of all the positive ideas that antiquity has bequeathed to
us is, that we find rather the ruins than the elements of a science in
the most ancient Astronomy of Chaldæa, of India, and of China.
After treating of certain ideas of Pluche, Bailly says, "The country of
possibilities is immense, and although truth is contained therein, it is
not often easy to distinguish it."
Words so reasonable would authorize me to inquire whether the
calculations of our fellow-labourer, intended to establish the immense
antiquity of the Indian Tables, are beyond all criticism. But the
question has been sufficiently discussed in a passage of _The Exposition
of the System of the World_, on which it would be useless to insist
here. Whatever came from the pen of M. de Laplace was always marked by
the stamp of reason and of evidence. In the first lines of his
magnificent work, after having remarked that "the history of Astronomy
forms an essential part of the history of the human mind," Bailly
observes, "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 allow
myself to add, that no study offers to reflecting minds more striking or
more curious relations.
When by measurements, in which the evidence of the method advances
equally with the precision of the results, the volume of the earth is
reduced to the millionth part of the volume of the sun; when the sun
himself, transported to the region of the stars, takes up a very modest
place among the thousands of millions of those bodies that the telescope
has revealed to us; when the 38,000,000 of leagues which separate the
earth from the sun, have become, by reason of their comparative
smallness, a base totally insufficient for ascertaining the dimensions
of the visible universe; when even the swiftness of the luminous rays
(77,000 leagues per second) barely suffices for the common valuations of
science; when, in short, by a chain of irresistible proofs, certain
stars have retired to distances that light could not traverse in less
than 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 a
position in the material world, Astronomy seems really to have made
progress only to humble us.
But if, on the other hand, we regard the subject from the opposite
point of view, and reflect on the extreme feebleness of the natural
means by the help of which so many great problems have been attacked and
solved; if we consider that to obtain and measure the greater part of
the quantities now forming the basis of astronomical computation, man
has had greatly to improve the most delicate of his organs, to add
immensely to the power of his eye; if we remark that it was not less
requisite for him to discover methods adapted to measuring very long
intervals of time, up to the precision of tenths of seconds; to combat
against the most microscopic effects that constant variations of
temperature produce in metals, and therefore in all instruments; to
guard against the innumerable illusions that a cold or hot atmosphere,
dry or humid, tranquil or agitated, impresses on the medium through
which the observations have inevitably to be made; the feeble being
resumes all his advantage; by the side of such wonderful labours of the
mind, what signifies the weakness, the fragility of our body; what
signify the dimensions of the planet, our residence, the grain of sand
on which it has happened to us to appear for a few moments!
The thousands of questions on which Astronomy has thrown its dazzling
light belong to two entirely distinct categories; some offered
themselves naturally to the mind, and man had only to seek the means for
solving them; others, according to the beautiful expression of Pliny,
were enveloped in the majesty of nature! When Bailly lays down in his
book these two kinds of problems, it is with the firmness, the depth, of
a consummate astronomer; and when he shows their importance, their
immensity, it is always with the talent of a writer of the highest
order; it is sometimes with a bewitching eloquence. If in the beautiful
work we are alluding to, Astronomy unavoidably assigns to man an
imperceptible place in the material world, she assigns him, on the other
hand, a vast share in the intellectual world. The writings which,
supported by the invincible deductions of science, thus elevate man in
his own eyes, will find grateful readers in all climes and times.
In 1775, Bailly sent the first volume of his history to Voltaire. In
thanking him for his present, the illustrious old man addressed to the
author one of those letters that he alone could write, in which
flattering and enlivening sentences were combined without effort with
high reasoning powers. "I have many thanks to return you, (said the
Patriarch of Ferney,) for having on the same day received a large book
on medicine and yours, while I was still ill; I have not opened the
first, I have already read the second almost entirely, and feel better."
Voltaire, indeed, had read Bailly's work pen in hand, and he proposed to
the illustrious astronomer some queries, which proved both his infinite
perspicacity, and wonderful variety of knowledge. Bailly then felt the
necessity of developing some ideas which in his _History of Ancient
Astronomy_ were only accessories to his principal subject. This was the
object 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 "to
lead the reader by the interest of the style to the interest of the
question discussed," he would place at the head of his work three
letters from the author of _Merope_, and he protested against the idea
that he had been induced to play with paradoxes.
According to Bailly, the present nations of Asia are heirs of an
anterior people, who understood Astronomy perfectly. Those Chinese,
those Hindoos, so renowned for their learning, would thus have been mere
depositaries; we should have to deprive them of the title of inventors.
Certain astronomical facts, found in the annals of those southern
nations, appear to have belonged to a higher latitude. By these means we
discover the true site on the globe of the primitive people, proving
against the received opinion that learning came southward from the
north.
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 the
former, and entitled _Letters on the Atlantis of Plato, and on the
Ancient 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 the
form of the discussion already employed in the former series; it is
still Voltaire whom he addresses.
The philosopher of Ferney thought it strange that there should be no
knowledge of this ancient people, who, according to Bailly, had
instructed the Indians. To answer this difficulty, the celebrated
astronomer 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: "He
who created it also destroyed it, like the walls that Homer built on the
shores of Troy, and then made them disappear." Bailly does not join in
this skepticism. According to him, Plato spoke seriously to the
Athenians of a learned, polished people, but destroyed and forgotten.
Only, he totally repudiates the idea of the Canaries being the remains
of the ancient country of the Atlantidæ, and now engulfed. Bailly rather
places that nation at Spitzbergen, Greenland, or Nova Zembla, whose
climate may have changed. We should also have to seek for the Garden of
the Hesperides near the Pole; in short, the fable of the Phoenix may
have arisen in the Gulf of the Obi, in a region where we must suppose
the sun to have been annually absent during sixty-five days.
It is evident, in many passages, that Bailly is himself surprised at the
singularity of his own conclusions, and fears that his readers may
rather regard them as jokes. He therefore exclaims, "My pen would not
find expressions for thoughts which I did not believe to be true." Let
us add that no effort is painful to him. Bailly calls successively to
his aid astronomy, history, supported by vast erudition, philology, the
systems of Mairan, of Buffon, relatively to the heat appertaining to the
earth. He does not forget, using his own words, "that in the human
species, still more sensitive than curious, more anxious for pleasure
than for instruction, nothing pleases generally, or for a long time,
unless the style is agreeable; that dry truth is killed by ennui!" Yet
Bailly makes few proselytes; and a species of instinct determines men of
science to despise the fruits of so persevering a labour; and D'Alembert
goes so far as to tax them with poverty, even with hollow ideas, with
vain and ridiculous efforts; he goes so far as to call Bailly,
relatively to his letters, the _illuminated brother_. Voltaire is, on
the contrary, very polite and very academical in his communications with
our author. The renown of the Brahmins is dear to him; yet this does
not prevent his discussing closely the proofs, the arguments of the
ingenious astronomer. We could also now enter into a serious discussion.
The mysterious veil that in Bailly's time covered the East, is in great
part raised. We now know the Astronomy of the Chinese and the Hindoos in
all its detail. We know up to what point the latter had carried their
mathematical knowledge. The theory of central heat has in a few years
made 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 on
some historical and geographical questions, where there reigned before a
profound darkness. Armed with all these new means of investigation, it
might easily be established that the systems relative to an ancient
unknown people, first creator of all the sciences, and relative to the
Atlantidæ, rest on foundations devoid of solidity. Yet, if Bailly still
lived, we should be only just in saying to him, as Voltaire did, merely
changing the tense of a verb, "Your two books _were_, Sir, treasures of
the most profound erudition and the most ingenious conjectures, adorned
with an eloquence of style, which is always suitable to the subject."
FIRST INTERVIEW OF BAILLY WITH FRANKLIN.--HIS ENTRANCE INTO THE FRENCH
ACADEMY IN 1783.--HIS RECEPTION.--DISCOURSE.--HIS RUPTURE WITH BUFFON.
Bailly became the particular and intimate friend of Franklin at the end
of 1777. The personal acquaintance of these two distinguished men began
in the strangest manner.
One of the most illustrious members of the Institute, Volney, on
returning from the New World, said: "The Anglo-Americans tax the French
with lightness, with indiscretion, with chattering." (Volney, preface to
_The Table of the Climate of the United States_.) Such is the
impression, in my opinion very erroneous, at least by comparison, under
which the Ambassador Franklin arrived in France. All the world knows
that he halted at Chaillot. As an inhabitant of the Commune, Bailly
thought it his duty to visit without delay the illustrious guest thus
received. He was announced, and Franklin, knowing him by reputation,
welcomed him very cordially, and exchanged with his visitor the eight or
ten words usual on such occasions. Bailly seated himself by the American
philosopher, and discreetly awaited some question to be put to him. Half
an hour passed, and Franklin had not opened his mouth. Bailly drew out
his snuff-box, and presented it to his neighbour without a word; the
traveller signed with his hand that he did not take snuff. The dumb
interview was then prolonged during a whole hour. Bailly finally rose.
Then Franklin, as if delighted to have found a Frenchman who could
remain silent, extended his hand to him, pressed his visitor's
affectionately, exclaiming: "Very well, Monsr. Bailly, very well!"
After having recounted the anecdote as our academician used amusingly to
relate it, I really fear being asked how I look upon it. Well,
Gentlemen, whenever this question may be put to me, I shall answer that
Bailly and Franklin discussing together some scientific question from
the moment of their meeting, would have appeared to me much more worthy
of each other, than the two actors of the scene at Chaillot. I will,
moreover, grant that we may draw the following inference,--that even men
of genius are liable to cross humours; but I must at the same time add
that the example is not dangerous, dumbness not being an efficacious
method of making one's self valued, or of distinguishing ourselves to
advantage.
Bailly was nominated member of the French Academy in the place of M. de
Tressan, in November, 1783. The same day, M. de Choiseul Gouffier
succeeded to D'Alembert. Thanks to the coincidence of the two
nominations, Bailly escaped the sarcasms which the expectant
academicians never fail to pour out, with or without reason, against
those who have obtained a double crown. This time they vented their
spleen exclusively on the great man, thus enabling the astronomer to
take possession of his new dignity without raising the usual storm. Let
us carefully collect, Gentlemen, from the early years of our
academician's life, all that may appear an anticipated compensation for
the cruel trials that we shall have to relate in the sequel.
The admission of the eloquent author of the _History of Astronomy_ into
the Academy, was more difficult than could be supposed by those who have
remarked to what slight works certain early and recent writers have owed
the same favour. Bailly failed three times. Fontenelle had before him
unsuccessfully presented himself once oftener; but Fontenelle underwent
these successive checks without ill-humour, and without being
discouraged. Bailly, on the contrary, with or without reason, seeing in
these unfavourable results of the elections the immediate effect of
D'Alembert's enmity, showed himself much more hurt at it, perhaps, than
was 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 merits
of M. de Tressan were therein celebrated with grace and delicacy. The
panegyrist identified himself with his subject. A select public loaded
with praises various passages wherein just and profound ideas were
clothed in all the richness of a forcible and harmonious style.
Did any one ever speak with more eloquence of the scientific power
revealed by a contemporary discovery! Listen, Gentlemen, and judge.
"That which the sciences can add to the privileges of the human race has
never been more marked than at the present moment. They have acquired
new domains for man. The air seems to become as accessible to him as the
waters, and the boldness of his enterprises equals almost the boldness
of his thoughts. The name of Montgolfier, the names of those hardy
navigators of the new element, will live through time; but who among us,
on seeing these superb experiments, has not felt his soul elevated, his
ideas expanded, his mind enlarged?"
I know not whether, all things considered, the satisfaction of self-love
which may be attached to academical titles, to his success in public and
important meetings, ever completely rewarded Bailly for the heartaches
he experienced in his literary career.
A kind and tender intimacy had grown up between the great naturalist
Buffon and the celebrated astronomer. An academical nomination broke it
up. You know it, Gentlemen; amongst us a nomination is the apple of
discord; notwithstanding the most opposite views, every one then thinks
that he is acting for the true interest of science or of letters; every
one thinks that he is proceeding in the line of strict justice; every
one endeavours earnestly to make proselytes. So far all is legitimate.
But what is much less so, is forgetting that a vote is a decision, and
that in this sense the academician, like the magistrate, may say to the
suitor, whether an academician or not, "I give decrees, and not
services."