However, the subterranean water appears.  It is true that a clever engineer had to bore down 548 metres (or 600 yards) to find it; but thence it comes transparent as crystal, pure as if the product of distillation, warmed as physical laws had shown that it would be, more abundant indeed than they had dared to foresee, it shot up thirty-three metres above the ground.

Do not suppose, Gentlemen, that putting aside wretched views of self-love, the Eschevin would applaud such a result.  He shows himself, on the contrary, deeply humiliated.  And he will not fail in future to oppose every undertaking that might turn out to the honour of science.  Crowds of such incidents occur to the mind.  Are we to infer thence, that we ought to be afraid of seeing the administration of a town given up to the stationary, and exclusive spirit of the old Eschevinage—­to people who have learnt nothing and studied nothing?  Such is not the result of these long reflections.  I wished to enable people to foresee the struggle, not the defeat.  I even hasten to add, that by the side of the surly, harsh, rude, positive Eschevin, the type of whom, to say the truth, is fortunately becoming rare, an honourable class of citizens exists, who, content with a moderate fortune laboriously acquired, live retired, charm their leisure with study, and magnanimously place themselves, without any interested views, at the service of the community.  Everywhere similar auxiliaries fight courageously for truth as soon as they perceive it.  Bailly constantly obtained their concurrence; as is proved by some touching testimonies of gratitude and sympathy.  As to the counsellors who so often occasioned trouble, confusion, and anarchy in the Hotel de Ville in the years ’89 and ’90, I am inclined to blame the virtuous magistrate for having so patiently, so diffidently endured their ridiculous pretensions, their unbearable assumption of power.

From the earliest steps in the important study of nature, it becomes evident that facts unveiled to us in the lapse of centuries, are but a very small fraction, if we compare them with those that still remain to be discovered.  Placing ourselves in that point of view, deficiency in diffidence would just be the same as deficiency in judgment.  But, by the side of positive diffidence, if I may be allowed the expression, relative diffidence comes in.  This is often a delusion; it deceives no one, yet occasions a thousand difficulties.  Bailly often confounded them.  We may regret, I think, that in many instances, the learned academician disdained to throw in the face of his vain fellow-labourers these words of an ancient philosopher:  “When I examine myself, I find I am 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 of criticism in the character of Bailly, I should voluntarily weaken the praises that I have bestowed on several acts of his administration.  I will not commit this fault, no more than I have done already in alluding to the communications of the mayor with the presuming Eschevins.