1822—1843 11 



boys' friendship went some way to alleviate the natural 

 anxieties felt by both families. The slowness and difficulty of 

 travelling in those days gave to farewells a sort of solemn sad' 

 ness ; they were repeated twenty times whilst the horses were 

 being harnessed and the luggage hoisted on to the coach in the 

 large courtyard of the '* Hotel de la Poste." On that bleak 

 October morning, amidst a shower of rain and sleet, the two 

 lads had to sit under the tarpaulin behind the driver; there 

 were no seats left inside or under the hood. In spite of 

 Vercel's habit of seeing the right side of things and his joy in 

 thinking that in forty-eight hours he, the country boy> would 

 see the wonders of Paris — in spite of Pasteur's brave resolve 

 to make the most of his unexpected opportunities of study, 

 of the now possible entrance into the *'Ecole Normale" — 

 both looked with heavy hearts at the familiar scene they were 

 leaving behind them — their homes, the square tower of Arbois 

 church, the heights of the Ermitage in the grey distance. 



Eveiy native of Jura, though he affects to feel nothing of the 

 kind, has, at the bottom of his heart, a strong feeling of attach- 

 ment for the corner of the world where he has spent his child- 

 hood; as soon as he forsakes his native soil his thoughts return 

 to it with a painful and persistent charm. The two boys did 

 not take much interest in the towns where the coach stopped 

 to change horses. Dole, Dijon, Auxerre, Joigny, Sens, Fon- 

 tainebleau, etc. 



When Louis Pasteur reached Paris he did not feel like 

 Balzac's student hero, confidently defjdng the great city. In 

 spite of the strong will already visible in his pensive features, 

 his grief was too deep to be reasoned away. No one at first 

 suspected thi;^; he was a reserv^ed youth, with none of the 

 desire to talk which leads weak natures to ease their sorrows 

 by pouring them out; but, when all was quiet in the Impasse 

 des Peuillantines and his sleeping comrades could not break 

 in upon his regrets, he would lie awake for hours thinking of 

 his home and repeating the mournful line — 



How endless unto watchful anguish 

 Night doth seem. 



The students of the Barbet school attended the classes of 

 the Lycee St. Louis. In spite of his willingness and his pas* 

 sionate love of study, Louis was overcome with despair at being 

 away from home. Never was homesickness more acute, **If 



