1884—1885 189 



the duration of the immunity conferred, were stray dogs picked 

 up by the police. They were of various breeds, and showed 

 every variety of character, some of them gentle and affectionate, 

 others vicious and growling, some confiding, some shrinking, 

 as if the recollection of chloroform and the laboratory was dis- 

 agreeable to them. They showed some natural impatience of 

 their enforced captivity, only interrupted by a short daily run. 

 One of them, however, was promoted to the post of house- 

 dog, and loosened every night ; he excited much envy among 

 his congeners. The dogs were very well cared for by a retired 

 gendarme, an excellent man of the name of Pernin. 



A lover of animals might have drawn an interesting contrast 

 between the fate of those laboratory dogs, living and dying for 

 the good of humanity, and that of the dogs buried in the neigh- 

 bouring dogs' cemetery at Bagatelle, founded by Sir Eichard 

 Wallace, the great English philanthropist. Here lay toy dogs, 

 lap dogs, drawing-room dogs, cherished and coddled during 

 their useless lives, and luxuriously buried after their useless 

 deaths, while the dead bodies of the others went to the 

 knacker's yard. 



Eabbit hutches and guinea-pig cages leaned against the dogs' 

 palace. Pasteur, having seen to the comfort of his animals, 

 now thought of himself ; it was frequently necessary that he 

 should come to spend two or three days at Villeneuve l'Etang. 

 The official architect thought of repairing part of the little 

 palace of Villeneuve, which was in a very bad state of decay. 

 But Pasteur preferred to have some rooms near the stables put 

 into repair, which had formerly been used for non-commis- 

 sioned officers of the Cent Gardes ; there was less to do to them , 

 and the position was convenient. The roof, windows, and 

 doors were renovated, and some cheap paper hung on the walls 

 inside. "This is certainly not luxurious!" exclaimed an 

 astonished millionaire, who came to see Pasteur one day on 

 his way to his own splendid villa at Marly. 



On May 29 Pasteur wrote to his son — 

 ' I thought I should have done with rabies by the end of 

 April ; I must postpone my hopes till the end of July. Yet 

 I have not remained stationary; but, in these difficult studies, 

 one is far from the goal as long as the last word, the last 

 decisive proof is not acquired. What I aspire to is the pos- 

 sibility of treating a man after a bite with no fear of accidents. 



" I have never had so many subjects of experiment on hand— 



