380 Baron Fourier's Historical Eloge of the 



At the commencement of the disease by which he was cut 

 off, there was observed with alarm a moment of delirium. The 

 sciences still occupied his mind. He spoke with an unwonted 

 ardour of the motions of the planets, and afterwards of a phy- 

 sical experiment, which he said was a capital one ; and he an- 

 nounced to the persons whom he believed to be present, that 

 he would soon discuss these questions in the Academy. His 

 strength gi'adually failed. His physician *, who deserved all 

 his confidence, both from his superior talents and the care 

 which friendship alone could have inspired, watched near his 

 bed ; and M. Bouvard, his fellow-labourer and his friend, 

 never left him for a single moment. 



Surrounded with a beloved family, — under tne eyes of a wife 

 whose tenderness had assisted in supporting the necessary ills 

 of life, whose amenity and elegance had shown him the value 

 of domestic happiness, he received from his son, the present 

 Marquis de Laplace, the strongest proofs of the warmest 

 affection. 



He evinced his deep gratitude for the marks of interest which 

 the King and the Dauphin had repeatedly exhibited. 



Those who were present at his last moments reminded him 

 of his titles to glory, and of his most brilliant discoveries. He 

 replied, " What we know is little, and what we are ignorant 

 of is immense." This was at least the meaning of his last 

 words, which were articulated with difficulty. We have often 

 heard him express the same thought, and almost in the same 

 terms. He grew weaker and weaker, but widiout suffering- 

 pain. 



His last hour had arrived : the powerful genius which had 

 for a long time animated him, separated from its mortal coil, 

 and returned to the heavens. 



The name of Laplace honoured one of our provinces already 

 so fertile in great men, — ancient Normandy. He was born on 

 the 23d March IT^g, and he died in the 78th year of his age, 

 on the 5th May 1827, at nine o'clock in the morning. Siiall 

 I remind you of that gloomy sadness which brooded over this 

 place like a cloud when the fatal intelligence was announced 

 to you ? It was on the day and even at the hour of your usual 

 meetings. Each of you preserved a mournful silence; each 

 felt the sad blow with which the sciences were struck. All 

 eyes were fixed on that place which he had so long occupied 

 among you. One thought only filled your minds ; every other 

 meditation became impossible. You separated under the in- 

 fluence of an unanimous resolution, and for this single time 

 your usual labours were interrupted. 



• M. Msgcnclie. 



It 



