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.”