Biographies of Distinguished Scientific Men. François Arago
BY FOURIER IN OUR REVOLUTION.—HIS ENTRANCE INTO THE CORPS OF PROFESSORS OF THE NORMAL SCHOOL AND THE POLYTECHNIC SCHOOL.—EXPEDITION TO EGYPT.
CENTRAL HEAT OF THE TERRESTRIAL GLOBE.
CHARACTER OF FOURIER.—HIS DEATH.
LIVES
OF
DISTINGUISHED SCIENTIFIC MEN.
THE HISTORY OF MY YOUTH:
AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF FRANCIS ARAGO.
I have not the foolish vanity to imagine that any one, even a short time hence, will have the curiosity to find out how my first education was given, and how my mind was developed; but some biographers, writing off hand and without authority, having given details on this subject utterly incorrect, and of a nature to imply negligence on the part of my parents, I consider myself bound to put them right.
I was born on the 26th of February, 1786, in the commune of Estagel, an ancient province of Roussillon (department of the Eastern Pyrenees). My father, a licentiate in law, had some little property in arable land, in vineyards, and in plantations of olive-trees, the income from which supported his numerous family.
I was thus three years old in 1789, four years old in 1790, five years in 1791, six years in 1792, and seven years old in 1793, &c.
The reader has now himself the means of judging whether, as has been said, and even stated in print, I had a hand in the excesses of our first revolution.
My parents sent me to the primary school in Estagel, where I learnt the rudiments of reading and writing. I received, besides, in my father's house, some private lessons in vocal music. I was not otherwise either more or less advanced than other children of my age. I enter into these details merely to show how much mistaken are those who have printed that at the age of fourteen or fifteen years I had not yet learnt to read.
Estagel was a halting-place for a portion of the troops who, coming from the interior, either went on to Perpignan, or repaired direct to the army of the Pyrenees. My parents' house was therefore constantly full of officers and soldiers. This, joined to the lively excitement which the Spanish invasion had produced within me, inspired me with such decided military tastes, that my family was obliged to have me narrowly watched to prevent my joining by stealth the soldiers who left Estagel. It often happened that they caught me at a league's distance from the village, already on my way with the troops.
On one occasion these warlike tastes had nearly cost me dear. It was the night of the battle of Peires-Tortes. The Spanish troops in their retreat had partly mistaken their road. I was in the square of the village before daybreak; I saw a brigadier and five troopers come up, who, at the sight of the tree of liberty, called out, "Somos perdidos!" I ran immediately to the house to arm myself with a lance which had been left there by a soldier of the levée en masse, and placing myself in ambush at the corner of a street, I struck with a blow of this weapon the brigadier placed at the head of the party. The wound was not dangerous; a cut of the sabre, however, was descending to punish my hardihood, when some countrymen came to my aid, and, armed with forks, overturned the five cavaliers from their saddles, and made them prisoners. I was then seven years old.[1]
My father having gone to reside at Perpignan, as treasurer of the mint, all the family quitted Estagel to follow him there. I was then placed as an out-door pupil at the municipal college of the town, where I occupied myself almost exclusively with my literary studies. Our classic authors had become the objects of my favourite reading. But the direction of my ideas became changed all at once by a singular circumstance which I will relate.
Walking one day on the ramparts of the town, I saw an officer of engineers who was directing the execution of the repairs. This officer, M. Cressac, was very young; I had the hardihood to approach him, and to ask him how he had succeeded in so soon wearing an epaulette. "I come from the Polytechnic School," he answered. "What school is that?" "It is a school which one enters by an examination." "Is much expected of the candidates?" "You will see it in the programme which the Government sends every year to the departmental administration; you will find it moreover in the numbers of the journal of the school, which are in the library of the central school."
I ran at once to the library, and there, for the first time, I read the programme of the knowledge required in the candidates.
From this moment I abandoned the classes of the central school, where I was taught to admire Corneille, Racine, La Fontaine, Molière, and attended only the mathematical course. This course was entrusted to a retired ecclesiastic, the Abbé Verdier, a very respectable man, but whose knowledge went no further than the elementary course of La Caille. I saw at a glance that M. Verdier's lessons would not be sufficient to secure my admission to the Polytechnic School; I therefore decided on studying by myself the newest works, which I sent for from Paris. These were those of Legendre, Lacroix, and Garnier. In going through these works I often met with difficulties which exceeded my powers; happily, strange though it be, and perhaps without example in all the rest of France, there was a proprietor at Estagel, M. Raynal, who made the study of the higher mathematics his recreation. It was in his kitchen, whilst giving orders to numerous domestics for the labours of the next day, that M. Raynal read with advantage the "Hydraulic Architecture" of Prony, the "Mécanique Analytique," and the "Mécanique Céleste." This excellent man often gave me useful advice; but I must say that I found my real master in the cover of M. Garnier's "Treatise on Algebra." This cover consisted of a printed leaf, on the outside of which blue paper was pasted. The reading of the page not covered made me desirous to know what the blue paper hid from me. I took off this paper carefully, having first damped it, and was able to read underneath it the advice given by d'Alembert to a young man who communicated to him the difficulties which he met with in his studies: "Go on, sir, go on, and conviction will come to you."
This gave me a gleam of light; instead of persisting in attempts to comprehend at first sight the propositions before me, I admitted their truth provisionally; I went on further, and was quite surprised, on the morrow, that I comprehended perfectly what overnight appeared to me to be encompassed with thick clouds.
I thus made myself master, in a year and a half, of all the subjects contained in the programme for admission,