M. Lindenau, the Minister from the King of Saxony to the King of the Netherlands, commenced his career as astronomer at the observatory of the Grand Duke of Gotha, by whom he was sent as his representative at the German Diet. On the death of the late reigning Duke, M. Lindenau was invited to Dresden, and filled the same situation under the King of Saxony; after which he was appointed his minister at the court of the King of the Netherlands. Such occurrences are not to be paralleled in our own country, at least not in modern times. Newton was, it is true, more than a century since, appointed Master of the Mint; but let any person suggest an appointment of a similar kind in the present day, and he will gather from the smiles of those to whom he proposes it that the highest knowledge conduces nothing to success, and that political power is almost the only recommendation.
There are several circumstances which concur in inducing persons pursuing science, to unite together, to form societies or academies. In former times, when philosophical instruments were more rare, and the art of making experiments was less perfectly known, it was almost necessary. More recently, whilst numerous additions are constantly making to science, it has been found that those who are most capable of extending human knowledge, are frequently least able to encounter the expense of printing their investigations. It is therefore convenient, that some means should be devised for relieving them from this difficulty, and the volumes of the transactions of academies have accomplished the desired end.
There is, however, another purpose to which academies contribute. When they consist of a limited number of persons, eminent for their knowledge, it becomes an object of ambition to be admitted on their list. Thus a stimulus is applied to all those who cultivate science, which urges on their exertions, in order to acquire the wished-for distinction. It is clear that this envied position will be valued in proportion to the difficulty of its attainment, and also to the celebrity of those who enjoy it; and whenever the standard of scientific knowledge which qualifies for its ranks is lowered, the value of the distinction itself will be diminished. If, at any time, a multitude of persons having no sort of knowledge of science are admitted, it must cease to be sought after as an object of ambition by men of science, and the class of persons to whom it will become an object of desire will be less intellectual.
Let us now compare the numbers composing some of the various academies of Europe.-The Royal Society of London, the Institute of France, the Italian Academy of Forty, and the Royal Academy of Berlin, are amongst the most distinguished.
It appears then, that in France, one person out of 427,000 is a member of the Institute. That in Italy and Prussia, about one out of 300,000 persons is a member of their Academies. That in England, every 32,000 inhabitants produces a Fellow of the Royal Society. Looking merely at these proportions, the estimation of a seat in the Academy of Berlin, must be more than nine times as valuable as a similar situation in England; and a member of the Institute of France will be more than thirteen times more rare in his country than a Fellow of the Royal Society is in England.
Favourable as this view is to the dignity of such situations in other countries, their comparative rarity is by no means the most striking difference in the circumstances of men of science. If we look at the station in society occupied by the SAVANS of other countries, in several of them we shall find it high, and their situations profitable. Perhaps, at the present moment, Prussia is, of all the countries in Europe, that which bestows the greatest attention, and most unwearied encouragement on science. Great as are the merits of many of its philosophers, much of this support arises from the character of the reigning family, by whose enlightened policy even the most abstract sciences are fostered.
The maxim that "knowledge is power," can be perfectly comprehended by those only who are themselves well versed in science; and to the circumstance of the younger branches of the royal family of Prussia having acquired considerable knowledge in such subjects, we may attribute the great force with which that maxim is appreciated.
In France, the situation of its SAVANS is highly respectable, as well as profitable. If we analyze the list of the Institute, we shall find few who do not possess titles or decorations; but as the value of such marks of royal favour must depend, in a great measure, on their frequency, I shall mention several particulars which are probably not familiar to the English reader. [This analysis was made by comparing the list of the Institute, printed for that body in 1827, with the ALMANACH ROYALE for 1823.]
We might, on turning over the list of the 685 members of the Royal Society, find a greater number of peers than there are in the Institute of France; but a fairer mode of instituting the comparison, is to inquire how many titled members there are amongst those who have contributed to its Transactions. In 1827, there were one hundred and nine members who had contributed to the Transactions of the Royal Society; amongst these were found:—
It should be observed, that five of these titles were the rewards of members of the medical profession, and one only, that of Sir H. Davy, could be attributed exclusively to science.
It must not be inferred that the titles of nobility in the French list, were all of them the rewards of scientific eminence; many are known to have been such; but it would be quite sufficient for the argument to mention the names of Lagrange, Laplace, Berthollet, and Chaptal.
The estimation in which the public hold literary claims in France and England, was curiously illustrated by an incidental expression in the translation of the debates in the House of Lords, on the occasion of His Majesty's speech at the commencement of the session of 1830. The Gazette de France stated, that the address was moved by the Duc de Buccleugh, "CHEF DE LA MAISON DE WALTER SCOTT." Had an English editor wished to particularize that nobleman, he would undoubtedly have employed the term WEALTHY, or some other of the epithets characteristic of that quality most esteemed amongst his countrymen.
If we turn, on the other hand, to the emoluments of science in France, we shall find them far exceed those in our own country. I regret much that I have mislaid a most interesting memorandum on this subject, which I made several years since: but I believe my memory on the point will not be found widely incorrect. A foreign gentleman, himself possessing no inconsiderable acquaintance with science, called on me a few years since, to present a letter of introduction. He had been but a short time in London; and, in the course of our conversation, it appeared to me that he had imbibed very inaccurate ideas respecting our encouragement of science.
Thinking this a good opportunity of instituting a fair comparison between the emoluments of science in the two countries, I placed a sheet of paper before him, and requested him to write down the names of six Englishmen, in his opinion, best known in France for their scientific reputation. Taking another sheet of paper, I wrote upon it the names of six Frenchmen, best known in England for their scientific discoveries. We exchanged these lists, and I then requested him to place against each name (as far as he knew) the annual income of the different appointments held by that person. In the mean time, I performed the same operation on his list, against some names of which I was obliged to place a ZERO. The result of the comparison was an average of nearly 1200L. per annum for the six French SAVANS whom I had named. Of the average amount of the sums received by the English, I only remember that it was very much smaller. When we consider what a command over the necessaries and luxuries of life 1200L. will give in France, it is underrating it to say it is equal to 2000L. in this country.
Let us now look at the prospects of a young man at his entrance into life, who, impelled by an almost irresistible desire to devote himself to the abstruser sciences, or who, confident in the energy of youthful power, feels that the career of science is that in which his mental faculties are most fitted to achieve the reputation for which he pants. What are his prospects? Can even the glowing pencil of enthusiasm add colour to the blank before him? There are no situations in the state; there is no position in society to which hope can point, to cheer him in his laborious path. If, indeed, he belong to one of our universities, there are some few chairs in his OWN Alma Mater to which he may at some distant day pretend; but these are not numerous; and whilst the salaries attached are seldom sufficient for the sole support of the individual, they are very rarely enough for that of a family. What then can he reply to the entreaties of his friends, to betake himself to some business in which perhaps they have power to assist him, or to choose some profession in which his talents may produce for him their fair reward? If he have no fortune, the choice is taken away: he MUST give up that line of life in which his habits of thought and his ambition qualify him to succeed eminently, and he MUST choose the bar, or some other profession, in which, amongst so many competitors, in spite of his great talents, he can be but moderately successful. The loss to him is great, but to the country it is greater. We thus, by a destructive misapplication of talent which our institutions create, exchange a profound philosopher for but a tolerable lawyer.
If, on the other hand, he possess some moderate fortune of his own; and, intent on the glory of an immortal name, yet not blindly ignorant of the state of science in this country, he resolve to make for that aspiration a sacrifice the greater, because he is fully aware of its extent;—if, so circumstanced, he give up a business or a profession on which he might have entered with advantage, with the hope that, when he shall have won a station high in the ranks of European science, he may a little augment his resources by some of those few employments to which science leads;—if he hope to obtain some situation, (at the Board of Longitude, for example,) [This body is now dissolved] where he may be permitted to exercise the talents of a philosopher for the paltry remuneration of a clerk, he will find that other qualifications than knowledge and a love of science are necessary for its attainment. He will also find that the high and independent spirit, which usually dwells in the breast of those who are deeply versed in these pursuits, is ill adapted for such appointments; and that even if successful, he must hear many things he disapproves, and raise no voice AGAINST them.
Thus, then, it appears that scarcely any man can be expected to pursue abstract science unless he possess a private fortune, and unless he can resolve to give up all intention of improving it. Yet, how few thus situated are likely to undergo the labour of the acquisition; and if they do from some irresistible impulse, what inducement is there for them to deviate one step from those inquiries in which they find the greatest delight, into those which might be more immediately useful to the public?
The progress of knowledge convinced the world that the system of the division of labour and of cooperation was as applicable to science, as it had been found available for the improvement of manufactures. The want of competition in science produced effects similar to those which the same cause gives birth to in the arts. The cultivators of botany were the first to feel that the range of knowledge embraced by the Royal Society was too comprehensive to admit of sufficient attention to their favourite subject, and they established the Linnean Society. After many years, a new science arose, and the Geological Society was produced. At an another and more recent epoch, the friends of astronomy, urged by the wants of their science, united to establish the Astronomical Society. Each of these bodies found, that the attention devoted to their science by the parent establishment was insufficient for their wants, and each in succession experienced from the Royal Society the most determined opposition.
Instituted by the most enlightened philosophers, solely for the promotion of the natural sciences, that learned body justly conceived that nothing could be more likely to render these young institutions permanently successful, than discouragement and opposition at their commencement. Finding their first attempts so eminently successful, they redoubled the severity of their persecution, and the result was commensurate with their exertions, and surpassed even their wildest anticipations. The Astronomical Society became in six years known and respected throughout Europe, not from the halo of reputation which the glory of its vigourous youth had thrown around the weakness of its declining years; but from the sterling merit of "its unpretending deeds, from the sympathy it claimed and received from every practical astronomer, whose labours it relieved, and whose calculations it lightened."
But the system which worked so well is now changed, and the Zoological and Medico-Botanical Societies were established without opposition: perhaps, indeed, the total failure of the latter society is the best proof of the wisdom which guided the councils of the Royal. At present, the various societies exist with no feelings of rivalry or hostility, each pursuing its separate objects, and all uniting in deploring with filial regret, the second childhood of their common parent, and the evil councils by which that sad event has been anticipated.
It is the custom to attach certain letters to the names of those who belong to different societies, and these marks of ownership are by many considered the only valuable part of their purchase on entry. The following is a list of some of these societies. The second column gives the ready-money prices of the tail-pieces indicated in the third.
[* The Royal Society of Edinburgh now requires, for composition in lieu of annual contributions, a sum dependent on the value of the life of the member.]
Thus, those who are ambitious of scientific distinction, may, according to their fancy, render their name a kind of comet, carrying with it a tail of upwards of forty letters, at the average cost of 10L. 9s. 9d. per letter.
Perhaps the reader will remark, that science cannot be declining in a country which supports so many institutions for its cultivation. It is indeed creditable to us, that the greater part of these societies are maintained by the voluntary contributions of their members. But, unless the inquiries which have recently taken place in some of them should rectify the SYSTEM OF MANAGEMENT by which several have been oppressed, it is not difficult to predict that their duration will be short. Full PUBLICITY, PRINTED STATEMENTS OF ACCOUNTS, and occasional DISCUSSIONS and inquiries at GENERAL MEETINGS, are the only safeguards; and a due degree of VIGILANCE should be exercised on those who DISCOURAGE these principles. Of the Royal Society, I shall speak in a succeeding page; and I regret to add, that I might have said more. My object is to amend it; but, like all deeply-rooted complaints, the operation which alone can contribute to its cure, is necessarily painful. Had the words of remonstrance or reproof found utterance through other channels, I had gladly been silent, content to support by my vote the reasonings of the friend of science and of the Society. But this has not been the case, and after frustrated efforts to introduce improvements, I shall now endeavour, by the force of plain, but perhaps painful truths, to direct public opinion in calling for such a reform, as shall rescue the Royal Society from contempt in our own country, from ridicule in others.
On the next five societies in the list, I shall offer no remarks. Of the Geological, I shall say a few words. It possesses all the freshness, the vigour, and the ardour of youth in the pursuit of a youthful science, and has succeeded in a most difficult experiment, that of having an oral discussion on the subject of each paper read at its meetings. To say of these discussions, that they are very entertaining, is the least part of the praise which is due to them. They are generally very instructive, and sometimes bring together isolated facts in the science which, though insignificant when separate, mutually illustrate each other, and ultimately lead to important conclusions. The continuance of these discussions evidently depends on the taste, the temper, and the good sense of the speakers. The things to be avoided are chiefly verbal criticisms—praise of each other beyond its reasonable limits, and contest for victory. This latter is, perhaps, the most important of the three, both for the interests of the Society and of truth. With regard to the published volumes of their Transactions, it may be remarked, that if members were in the habit of communicating their papers to the Society in a more finished state, it would be attended with several advantages; amongst others, with that of lightening the heavy duties of the officers, which are perhaps more laborious in this Society than in most others. To court publicity in their accounts and proceedings, and to endeavour to represent all the feelings of the Society in the Council, and to avoid permanent Presidents, is a recommendation not peculiarly addressed to this Society, but would contribute to the well-being of all.
Of the Astronomical Society, which, from the nature of its pursuits, could scarcely admit of the discussions similar to those of the Geological, I shall merely observe, that I know of no secret which has caused its great success, unless it be attention to the maxims which have just been stated.
On the Zoological Society, which affords much rational amusement to the public, a few hints may at present suffice. The largeness of its income is a frightful consideration. It is too tempting as the subject for jobs, and it is too fluctuating and uncertain in its amount, not to render embarrassment in the affairs of the Society a circumstance likely to occur, without the greatest circumspection. It is most probable, from the very recent formation of this Institution, that its Officers and Council are at present all that its best friends could wish; but it is still right to mention, that in such a Society, it is essentially necessary to have men of business on the Council, as well as persons possessing extensive knowledge of its pursuits. It is more dangerous in such a Society than in any other, to pay compliments, by placing gentlemen on the Council who have not the qualifications which are requisite; a frequent change in the members of the Council is desirable, in order to find out who are the most regular attendants, and most qualified to conduct its business. Publicity in its accounts and proceedings is, from the magnitude of its funds, more essential to the Zoological than to any other society; and it is rather a fearful omen, that a check was attempted to be given to such inquiries at the last anniversary meeting. If it is to be a scientific body, the friends of science should not for an instant tolerate such attempts.
It frequently happens, that gentlemen take an active part in more than one scientific society: in that case, it may be useful to derive instruction as to their merits, by observing the success of their measures in other societies.
The Asiatic Society has, amongst other benefits, caused many valuable works to be translated, which could not have otherwise been published.
The Horticultural Society has been ridden almost to death, and is now rousing itself; but its constitution seems to have been somewhat impaired. There are hopes of its purgation, and ultimate restoration, notwithstanding a debt of 19,000L., which the Committee of Inquiry have ascertained to exist. This, after all, will not be without its advantage to science, if it puts a stop to HOUSE-LISTS, NAMED BY ONE OR TWO PERSONS,—to making COMPLIMENTARY councillors,—and to auditing the accounts WITHOUT EXAMINING EVERY ITEM, or to omitting even that form altogether.
The Medico-Botanical Society suddenly claimed the attention of the public; its pretensions were great—its assurance unbounded. It speedily became distinguished, not by its publications or discoveries, but by the number of princes it enrolled in its list. It is needless now to expose the extent of its short-lived quackery; but the evil deeds of that institution will long remain in the impression they have contributed to confirm throughout Europe, of the character of our scientific establishments. It would be at once a judicious and a dignified course, if those lovers of science, who have been so grievously deceived in this Society, were to enrol upon the latest page of its history its highest claim to public approbation, and by signing its dissolution, offer the only atonement in their power to the insulted science of their country. As with a singular inversion of principle, the society contrived to render EXPULSION* the highest HONOUR it could confer; so it remains for it to exemplify, in suicide, the sublimest virtue of which it is capable. [* They expelled from amongst them a gentleman, of whom it is but slight praise to say, that he is the first and most philosophical botanist of our own country, and who is admired abroad as he is respected at home. The circumstance which surprised the world was not his exit from, but his previous entrance into that Society.]
As the venerable first parent of English, and I might perhaps say, of European scientific societies; as a body in the welfare of which, in the opinions of many, the interests of British science are materially involved, I may be permitted to feel anxiously, and to speak more in detail.
I have no intention of stating what ought to be the qualifications of a Fellow of the Royal Society; but, for years, the practical mode of arriving at that honour, has been as follows:—
A. B. gets any three Fellows to sign a certificate, stating that he (A. B.) is desirous of becoming a member, and likely to be a useful and valuable one. This is handed in to the Secretary, and suspended in the meeting-room. At the end of ten weeks, if A. B. has the good fortune to be perfectly unknown by any literary or scientific achievement, however small, he is quite sure of being elected as a matter of course. If, on the other hand, he has unfortunately written on any subject connected with science, or is supposed to be acquainted with any branch of it, the members begin to inquire what he has done to deserve the honour; and, unless he has powerful friends, he has a fair chance of being black-balled. [I understand that certificates are now read at the Council, previously to their being hung up in the meeting-room; but I am not aware that this has in the slightest degree diminished their number, which was, at the time of writing this note, TWENTY-FOUR.]
In fourteen years' experience, the few whom I have seen rejected, have all been known persons; but even in such cases a hope remains;—perseverance will do much, and a gentleman who values so highly the distinction of admission to the Royal Society, may try again; and even after being twice black-balled, if he will a third time condescend to express his desire to become a member, he may perhaps succeed, by the aid of a hard canvass. In such circumstances, the odds are much in favour of the candidate possessing great scientific claims; and the only objection that could then reasonably be suggested, would arise from his estimating rather too highly a distinction which had become insignificant from its unlimited extension.
It should be observed, that all members contribute equally, and that the sum now required is fifty pounds. It used, until lately, to be ten pounds on entrance, and four pounds annually. The amount of this subscription is so large, that it is calculated to prevent many men of real science from entering the Society, and is a very severe tax on those who do so; for very few indeed of the cultivators of science rank amongst the wealthy classes. Several times, whilst I have been consulting books or papers at Somerset House, persons have called to ask the Assistant-secretary the mode of becoming a member of the Royal Society. I should conjecture, from some of these applications, that it is not very unusual for gentlemen in the country to order their agents in London to take measures for putting them up at the Royal Society.
Why Mr. Davies Gilbert became President of the Royal Society I cannot precisely say. Let him who penned, and those who supported this resolution solve the enigma:
"It was Resolved,
"That it is the opinion of the Council that Davies Gilbert, Esq. is by far the most fit person to be proposed to the Society at the approaching anniversary as President, and that he be recommended accordingly."
To resolve that he was a FIT person might have been sufficiently flattering: to state that he was the most fit, was a little hard upon the rest of the Society; but to resolve that he was "BY FAR THE MOST FIT" was only consistent with that strain of compliment in which his supporters indulge, and was a eulogy, by no means unique in its kind, I believe, even at that very Council.
That Mr. Gilbert is a most amiable and kind-hearted man will be instantly admitted by all who are, in the least degree, acquainted with him: that he is fit for the chair of the Royal Society, will be allowed by few, except those who have committed themselves to the above-quoted resolution.
Possessed of knowledge and of fortune more than sufficient for it, he might have been the restorer of its lustre. He might have called round him, at the council board, those most actively engaged in the pursuits of science, most anxious for the improvement of the Royal Society. Instead of himself proposing resolutions, he might have been, what a chairman ought to be, the organ of the body over which he presides. By the firmness of his own conduct he might have taught the subordinate officers of the Society the duties of their station. Instead of paying compliments to Ministers, who must have smiled at his simplicity, he might have maintained the dignity of his Council by the dignity of knowledge.
But he has chosen a different path; with no motives of interest to allure, or of ambition to betray him, instead of making himself respected as the powerful chief of a united republic,—that of science,—he has grasped at despotic power, and stands the feeble occupant of its desolated kingdom, trembling at the force of opinions he might have directed, and refused even the patronage of their names by those whose energies he might have commanded.
Mr. Gilbert told the Society he accepted the situation for a year; and this circumstance caused a difficulty in finding a Treasurer: an office which he had long held, and to which he wished to return.
Another difficulty might have arisen, from the fact of the late Board of Longitude comprising amongst its Members the PRESIDENT of the Royal Society, and three of its Fellows, appointed by the President and Council. Of course, when Mr. Gilbert accepted the higher situation, he became, EX OFFICIO, a Member of the Board of Longitude; and a vacancy occurred, which ought to have been filled up by the President and Council. But when this subject was brought before them, in defiance of common sense, and the plain meaning of the act of parliament, which had enacted that the Board of Longitude should have the assistance of four persons belonging to the Royal Society, Mr. Gilbert refused to allow it to be filled up, on the ground that he should not be President next year, and had made no vacancy.
Next year Mr. Gilbert wished again to be President one other year; but the Board of Longitude was dissolved, otherwise we might have had some LOCUM TENENS to retire at Mr. Gilbert's pleasure.
These circumstances are in themselves of trifling importance, but they illustrate the character of the proceedings: and it is not becoming the dignity of science or of the Society that its officers should be so circumstanced as to have an apparent and direct interest in supporting the existing President, in order to retain their own places; and if such a system is once discovered, doubt immediately arises as to the frequency of such arrangements.
Whether the present Secretaries are the best qualified to aid in reforming the Society, is a question I shall not discuss. With regard to the senior Secretary, the time of his holding office is perhaps more unfortunate than the circumstance. If I might be permitted to allude for a moment to his personal character, I should say that the mild excellencies of his heart have prevented the Royal Society from deriving the whole of that advantage from his varied knowledge and liberal sentiments which some might perhaps have anticipated; and many will agree with me in regretting that his judgment has not directed a larger portion of the past deeds of the Councils of the Royal Society. Of the junior Secretary I shall only observe, that whilst I admit his industry, his perseverance, and his talents, I regret to see such valuable qualities exerted at a disadvantage, and that I sincerely wish them all the success they merit in situations more adapted for their developement.
There are, however, some general principles which it may be important to investigate, which relate to the future as well as to the past state of the office of Secretary of the Royal Society. Inconvenience has already arisen from having had at a former period one of our Secretaries the conductor of a scientific journal; and this is one of the points in which I can agree with those who now manage the affairs of the Society. [These observations were written previous to the late appointment, to which I now devote Section 6. Experience seems to be lost on the Council of the Royal Society.] Perhaps it might be advantageous to extend the same understanding to the other officers of the Society at least, if not to the members of its Council.
Another circumstance worthy of the attention of the Society is, to consider whether it is desirable, except in special cases, to have military persons appointed to any of its offices. There are several peculiarities in the military character, which, though they do not absolutely unfit their possessors for the individual prosecution of science, may in some degree disqualify such persons from holding offices in scientific institutions. The habits both of obedience and command, which are essential in military life, are little fitted for that perfect freedom which should reign in the councils of science. If a military chief commit an oversight or an error, it is necessary, in order to retain the confidence of those he commands, to conceal or mask it as much as possible. If an experimentalist make a mistake, his only course to win the confidence of his fellow-labourers in science, and to render his future observations of any use, is to acknowledge it in the most full and explicit manner. The very qualifications which contribute to the professional excellence of the soldier, constitute his defects when he enters the paths of science; and it is only in those rare cases where the force of genius is able to control and surmount these habits, that his admission to the offices of science can be attended with any advantage to it.
Another objection deserving notice, although not applying exclusively to the military profession, is, that persons not imbued with the feelings of men of science, when they have published their observations, are too apt to view every criticism upon them as a personal question, and to consider that it is as offensive to doubt the accuracy of their observations as it is to doubt their word. Nothing can be more injurious to science than that such an opinion should be tolerated. The most unreserved criticism is necessary for truth; and those suspicions respecting his own accuracy, which every philosophical experimenter will entertain concerning his own researches, ought never to be considered as a reproach, when they are kept in view in examining the experiments of others. The minute circumstances and apparently trivial causes which lend their influence towards error, even in persons of the most candid judgment, are amongst the most curious phenomena of the human mind.
The importance of affording every aid to enable others to try the merits of observations, has been so well expressed by Mayer, that I shall conclude these remarks with an extract from the Preface to his Observations:
"Officii enim cujusque observatoris ease reor, de habitu instrumenti sui, de cura ac precautione, qua usus est, ad illud recte tractandum, deque mediis in errores ejus inquirendi rationem reddere publice, ut aliis quoque copia sit judicandi, quanta fides habenda conclusionibus ex nostris observationibus deductis aut deducendis. Hoc cum minus fecissent precedentis saeculi astronomi, praxin nimis secure, nimisque theoretice tractantes, factum inde potissimum est, ut illorum observationes tot vigiliis tantoque labore comparatae tam cito obsoleverint." P. viii.
There are certain duties which the Royal Society owes to its own character as well as to the public, which, having been on some occasions apparently neglected, it may be here the proper place to mention, since it is reasonable to suppose that attention to them is within the province of its Secretaries.
The first to which I shall allude is the singular circumstances attending the fact of the Royal Society having printed a volume of Astronomical Observations which were made at the Observatory of Paramatta (New South Wales), bearing the title of "The Third Part of the Philosophical Transactions for the Year 1829."
Now this Observatory was founded at the private expense of a British officer; the instruments were paid for out of his purse; two observers were brought from Europe, to be employed in making use of those instruments, at salaries defrayed by him. A considerable portion of the observations so printed were made by these astronomers during their employment in his service, and some of them are personally his own. Yet has the Royal Society, in adopting them as part of its Transactions, omitted all mention, either in their title-page, preface, or in any part of the volume, of the FACT that the world owed these valuable observations to the enlightened munificence of Lieutenant-General Sir Thomas Brisbane; whose ardent zeal in the pursuit of science induced him to found, at his own private expense, an establishment which it has been creditable to the British Government to continue as a national institution. Had any kindred feelings existed in the Council, instead of endeavouring to shift the responsibility, they would have hastened to rectify an omission, less unjust to the individual than it was injurious to English science.
Another topic, which concerns most vitally the character and integrity of the Royal Society, I hardly know how to approach. It has been publicly stated that confidence cannot be placed in the written minutes of the Society; and an instance has been adduced, in which an entry has been asserted to have been made, which could not have been the true statement of what actually passed at the Council.
The facts on which the specific instance rests are not difficult to verify by members of the Royal Society. I have examined them, and shall state them before I enter on the reasoning which may be founded upon them. In the minutes of the Council, 26th November, 1829, we find—
"Resolved, that the following gentlemen be recommended to be put upon the Council for the ensuing year." [Here follows a list of persons, amongst whom the name of Sir John Franklin occurs [Sir John Franklin was absent from London, and altogether unacquainted with this transaction, until he saw it stated in the newspapers some months after it had taken place. That his name was the one substituted for that of Captain Beaufort I know, from other evidence which need not be produced here, as the omission of the latter name is the charge that has been made.], and that of Captain Beaufort is not found. [Any gentleman may satisfy himself that this is not a mistake of the Assistant Secretary's, in copying, by consulting the rough minutes of that meeting of the Council, which it might perhaps be as well to write in a rough minute-book, instead of upon loose sheets of paper; nor can it be attributed to any error arising from accidentally mislaying the real minutes, for in that case the error would have been rectified immediately it was detected; and this has remained uncorrected, although publicly spoken of for months. As there is no erasure in the list, one is reluctantly compelled to conjecture that the real minutes of that meeting have been destroyed.]]
Now this could not be the list actually recommended by the Council on the morning of the 26th of November, because the President himself, on the evening of that day, informed Capt. Beaufort that he was placed on the house list; and that officer, with the characteristic openness of his profession, wrote on the next or the following day to the President, declining that situation, and stating his reasons for the step.
Upon the fact, therefore, of the suppression of part of a resolution of the Council, on the 26th of November, there can be no doubt; but in order to understand the whole nature of the transaction, other information is necessary. It has been the wish of many members of the Society, that the President should not absolutely name his own Council, but that the subject should be discussed fairly at the meeting previous to the Anniversary—this has always been opposed by Mr. Gilbert, and those who support him. Now, it has been stated, that, at the meeting of the Council on the 26th of November, the President took out of his pocket a bit of paper, from which he read the names of several persons as fit to be on the Council for the ensuing year;—that it was not understood that any motion was made, and it is certain that none was seconded, nor was any ballot taken on such an important question; and it was a matter of considerable surprise to some of those present, to discover afterwards that it was entered on the minutes as a resolution. This statement I have endeavoured to verify, and I believe it to be substantially correct; if it was a resolution, it was dictated, not discussed. It is also important to observe, that no similar resolution stands on the council-books for any previous year.
On examining the minutes of the succeeding Council, no notice of the letter of Captain Beaufort to the President is found. Why was it omitted? If the first entry had been truly made, there would have been no necessity for the omission; and after the insertion of that letter, a resolution would naturally have followed, recommending another name instead of the one withdrawn. Such was the natural and open course; but this would have exposed to the Society the weakness of those who manage it. If the rough minutes of each meeting of the Council were read over before it separated, and were copied previously to the next meeting, such a substitution could hardly have occurred; but, unfortunately, this is not the case, and the delay is in some cases considerable. Thus, the minutes of the three Councils, held on February 4, on February 11, and on March 11, were not entered on the minute-books of the Council on Tuesday, the 16th March; nor was this the fault of the Assistant-secretary, for up to that day the rough minutes of no one of those Councils had been transmitted to him.
Deeply as every friend to the Royal Society must regret such an occurrence, one slight advantage may accrue. Should that resolution be ever quoted hereafter to prove that the Council of 1829 really discussed the persons to be recommended as their successors, the detection of this suppression of one portion of it, will furnish better means of estimating the confidence due to the whole.