Heroes of science

by P. Martin Duncan

The natural history was translated into English, German, Italian, Spanish, and Dutch, and its charming pages brought a knowledge of nature to many a home. Like most naturalists of eminence, Buffon interested himself about the ancient history of the earth. His writings were not original in that part of his subject, but what he did write contained much common sense. Nevertheless, the Faculty of Theology at Paris found fault with the geology, and informed him that no less than fourteen propositions in his works were reprehensible and contrary to the creed of the Church. Buffon was invited to recant, which he very foolishly did; and it must be mentioned that the “improper statements” are now believed in, by every educated man. It has been written of the great naturalists of the past, that Aristoteles has shown the profound combination of the laws of nature, Plinius her inexhaustible riches, Linnæus her wonderful details, and Buffon her majesty and power. Certainly his great work contains such pictures of nature as were never given before, and rarely since, by any naturalist. Buffon therefore had the happiness of bringing the cultivation of the science more generally into fashion than it had been previously. He was deficient in the orderly method of science, however; his work, supremely interesting and popular, was soon found to be inconsistent with the severely scientific study of nature. This want of order and classification led to the establishment of a new school of zoology.

Buffon’s social position was of great value and importance to him as a naturalist and to the state also, for he became the object of personal regard to many distinguished foreign princes, who did not hesitate to make presents of specimens to the national museums, through him. His wealth also enabled him to help the state, for he often purchased minerals and specimens of animals for which no public money had been granted. Frederick the Great of Prussia and his son Henry, the Emperor Joseph II. of Austria, Catherine of Russia, and the kings of Norway and Sweden, all knew Buffon, admired his works, and sent presents in order to complete his museum, which was devoted and given by him to the public. The Jardin du Roi was greatly enlarged at Buffon’s expense, and public opinion spoke well of the amiable and benevolent owner of Montbard.

But, as with other and less happily placed men, Buffon had to suffer, and the loss of his child, followed by the death of the wife he tenderly loved, in the prime of her life, were great shocks to him. He never was the same man afterwards, and sought to find forgetfulness in increased work and literary toil. Moreover, the ingratitude of the ruling power affected Buffon, who behaved, however, excellently, and took up the position which every man of his social condition should have maintained.

In February, 1771, Buffon was alarmingly ill, and, unknown to him, the king, Louis XV., nominated a Count d’Angiviller, to succeed in the administration of the Museums and Jardin de Roi. Buffon recovered, and found out this little job, and was naturally annoyed at the indecent haste of putting a man in his place at such a crisis; but he was most indignant when he knew who the man was—an ignoramus and court favourite, a perfectly incompetent man. It is said that Louis XV. on this occasion, to compensate Buffon for his annoyance, raised the Montbard property to the holding of a count. Certainly he ordered the sculptor, Pajon, to erect a full-sized statue of Buffon in the garden during his absence, and to put the inflated inscription on it, “His genius equals the majesty of nature.” Buffon resented this, and he wrote to the President de Ruffey: “I thank you for the part you have taken in procuring this statue, which I neither required nor solicited, and which would have done me greater honour if it had been erected after my death. I have always thought that a wise man should rather fear envy then value glory; all this has been done without consulting me.”

Some years afterwards an architect, who was employed in embellishing some of the buildings in the Jardin du Roi, wished to compliment Buffon, but this simple-minded, scientific man stated, “I cannot agree to any expenditure which will contribute to my personal glory, and I had nothing to do with the statue they erected to me.” In writing to Madame Necker, he showed how exactly he understood the French court, and appreciated its praises: “I passed the whole of yesterday and the day before in making observations and notes on a most important project presented to the king, relating to the planting of 100,000 fir trees for the masts of the navy. I would not grudge the time if my advice were likely to be useful and valued and taken; but in the high circle where you have not cared about remaining, they do sometimes consult competent men, and end, invariably, by following the advice of the ignorant.”

Buffon lived for many years after these troubles, and gained fresh laurels. Those which will last the longest were the results of his charming descriptions of the habits of animals. At last, at the age of eighty-one years, he died, full of honours, his last words addressed to his son being, “My son, never leave the path of virtue and honour; it is the true road to happiness.”

About a year before the death of George I., a son was born to a family of good old name and renown at Downing, in Flintshire. The child was christened Thomas, and his other name was Pennant, and these names are constantly coming before naturalists who particularly study zoology at the present time. Little is known about the early years of this ardent student, except that he was educated at Wrexham school. Like most boys he took notice of birds and their habits, and if one may judge from the results, he must have really begun to study the different kinds of birds, carefully, when he was about twelve years of age. He owed his opening career as a zoologist to Ray and Willughby, for it was a present made to him of the book of birds of this last author, that drew his attention to the study of nature which he never subsequently neglected.

After leaving school, Pennant was sent to Oxford, where his studies do not appear to have been of any importance, so far as the subjects which were taught were concerned. He did not take his degree, and yet it is evident that he studied the nature of things visible to him, and that he was well read in the science of the day. His mind was rather influenced by the writings of Linnæus, and in consequence he took an interest in mineralogy as well as about natural history. Immediately after leaving Oxford, Pennant began to travel about his own country, and visited Cornwall. He examined many of the mines, and studied the natural history of the districts, but he did not publish anything, being apparently an earnest student of what was already known. When twenty-four years of age an earthquake occurred at Downing, and Pennant wrote a description of it, which was read before the Royal Society and published in the “Philosophical Transactions.” This was a great honour for so young a man. Animals, however, and their shapes, habits, and similarities were his special study, and he laboured hard, year after year, in describing them. He got much practical knowledge of those of our own country, and finally, at the age of thirty-five, in 1761, he commenced the publication of his first great work, the “British Zoology,” which was printed in large folio, and when complete contained one hundred and thirty-two plates. He was well known before this magnificent work appeared, and Linnæus had urged the University of Upsala to elect him a member of their Royal Society. His great book appeared afterwards in smaller editions, and one in quarto is often used.

The “British Zoology” included the description of the species of animals at that time known to inhabit Great Britain, except the insects. So good was the work and so accurate were the descriptions, that it was translated into Latin and German, and had a large circulation abroad. Anxious to compare his work with those of foreign naturalists, and to see the specimens of similar animals in the great continental museums, Pennant travelled abroad in 1765, and made the acquaintance of the most important zoologists of the day. He visited Buffon at Montbard, and their friendship led to a correspondence, which lasted for years. Then he went on to Switzerland, and met Haller at Berne. Coming home by way of Germany and Holland, he met a distinguished traveller and naturalist, Pallas by name. Pennant wrote about him: “Our conversation related chiefly to natural history, and as we were both enthusiastic admirers of our great Ray, I proposed his undertaking a history of quadrupeds on the system of our countryman, a little reformed. He assented to my plan, and wrote me a long letter in which he sent me an outline of his design, and his resolution to pursue it with all the expedition consistent with his other engagements.” Pallas went to Russia, and never accomplished his object, but Pennant followed out the idea himself, and in 1771 published a work with the title of “A Synopsis of Quadrupeds,” illustrated with about thirty plates. This was intended as a kind of index to the species of animals described by Buffon in his great work on natural history. He gradually, however, extended its limits, and included in it the description of many animals which he had observed in collections or which had been discovered by travellers, and which had been unknown to Buffon. Years afterwards the great Cuvier said of this work, “that it is still indispensable to those who wish to study the history of quadrupeds.”