It was characteristic of him that the practical problems of science should have attracted him before his mind was as yet sufficiently matured to feel the charm of its abstract beauties. His first attempt at observation was made with a sextant, rudely constructed under his own directions, and a common clock. Its object was the determination of the longitude of Bremen, and its success, he tells us himself,[60] filled him with a rapture of delight, which, by confirming his tastes, decided his destiny. He now eagerly studied Bode's _Jahrbuch_ and Von Zach's _Monatliche Correspondenz_, overcoming each difficulty as it arose with the aid of Lalande's _Traité d'Astronomie_, and supplying, with amazing rapidity, his early deficiency in mathematical training. In two years he was able to attack a problem which would have tasked the patience, if not the skill, of the most experienced astronomer. Amongst the Earl of Egremont's papers Von Zach had discovered Harriot's observations on Halley's comet at its appearance in 1607, and published them as a supplement to Bode's Annual. With an elaborate care inspired by his youthful ardour, though hardly merited by their loose nature, Bessel deduced from them an orbit for that celebrated body, and presented the work to Olbers, whose reputation in cometary researches gave a special fitness to the proffered homage. The benevolent physician-astronomer of Bremen welcomed with surprised delight such a performance emanating from such a source. Fifteen years previously, the French Academy had crowned a similar work; now its equal was produced by a youth of twenty, busily engaged in commercial pursuits, self-taught, and obliged to snatch from sleep the hours devoted to study. The paper was immediately sent to Von Zach for publication, with a note from Olbers explaining the circumstances of its author; and the name of Bessel became the common property of learned Europe.

He had, however, as yet no intention of adopting astronomy as his profession. For two years he continued to work in the counting-house by day, and to pore over the _Mécanique Céleste_ and the Differential Calculus by night. But the post of assistant in Schröter's observatory at Lilienthal having become vacant by the removal of Harding to Göttingen in 1805, Olbers procured for him the offer of it. It was not without a struggle that he resolved to exchange the desk for the telescope. His reputation with his employers was of the highest; he had thoroughly mastered the details of the business, which his keen practical intelligence followed with lively interest; his years of apprenticeship were on the point of expiring, and an immediate, and not unwelcome prospect of comparative affluence lay before him. The love of science, however, prevailed; he chose poverty and the stars, and went to Lilienthal with a salary of a hundred thalers yearly. Looking back over his life's work, Olbers long afterwards declared that the greatest service which he had rendered to astronomy was that of having discerned, directed, and promoted the genius of Bessel.[61]

A Popular History of Astronomy During the Nineteenth Century — Part 35