Tranquillity of mind is not less requisite than vigour of intellect, to those who undertake great works.  Thus during his residence at Nantes, Bailly did not even try to add to his numerous scientific or literary productions.  This celebrated astronomer passed his time in reading novels.  He sometimes said with a bitter smile:  “My day has been well occupied; since I got up, I have put myself in a position to give an analysis of the two, or of the three first volumes of the new novel that the reading-room has just received.”  From time to time these abstractions were of a more elevated tone; he owed them to two young persons, who having reached an advanced age may now be listening to my words.  Bailly discoursed with them of Homer, of Plato, of Aristotle, of the principal works in our literature, of the rapid progress of the sciences, and chiefly of those of astronomy.  What our colleague chiefly appreciated in these two young friends, was a true sensibility, and great warmth of feeling.  I know that years have not effaced or weakened these rare qualities in the bosoms of those two Bretons.  M. Pariset, our colleague, and M. Villenave, will therefore think it natural in me to thank them here, in the name of science and literature, in the name of humanity, for the few moments of sweet peace and happiness that they afforded to our learned colleague, at a time when the inconstancy and ingratitude of men were lacerating his heart.

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

During these transactions, Charles Marquis de Casaux, known by various productions on literature and on economical politics, went and requested our colleague, together with his wife, to take a passage on board a ship that he had freighted for himself and his family.  “We will first go to England,” said M. Casaux; “we will then, if you prefer it, pass our exile in America.  Have no anxiety, I have property; I can, without inconvenience to myself, undertake all the expenses.  Pythagoras said:  ‘In solitude the wise man worships echo;’ but this no longer suffices in France; the wise man must fly from a land that threatens to devour its children.”

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