He read papers about this and gave speeches and threw his proofs insolently at the great Liebig’s head--and in a little while a storm was up in the little Republic of Science on the left bank of the Seine in Paris. His old Professors beamed pride on him and the Academy of Sciences, which had refused to elect him a member, now gave him the Prize of Physiology, and the magnificent Claude Bernard--whom Frenchmen called Physiology itself--praised him in stately sentences. The next night, Dumas, his old professor--whose brilliant lectures had made him cry when he was a green boy in Paris--threw bouquets at Pasteur in a public speech that would have made another man than Pasteur bow his head and blush and protest. Pasteur did not blush--he was perfectly sure that Dumas was right. Instead he sat down proudly and wrote to his father: “Mr. Dumas, after praising the so great penetration I had given proof of ... added: ‘_The Academy, sir, rewarded you a few days ago for other profound researches; your audience this evening will applaud you as one of the most distinguished professors we possess._’ All that I have underlined was said in these very words by Mr. Dumas, and was followed _by great applause_.” It is only natural that in the midst of this hurrahing there was some quiet hissing. Opponents began to rise on all sides. Pasteur made these enemies not entirely because his discoveries stepped on the toes of old theories and beliefs. No, his bristling curious impudent air of challenge got him enemies. He had a way of putting “am-I-not-clever-to-have-found-this-and-aren’t-all-of-you-fools-not- to-believe-it-at-once” between the lines of all of his writings and speeches. He loved to fight with words, he had a cocky eagerness to get into an argument with every one about anything. He would have sputtered indignantly at an innocently intended comment on his grammar or his punctuation. Look at portraits of him taken at this time--it was 1860--read his researches, and you will find a fighting sureness of his perpetual rightness in every hair of his eyebrow and even in the technical terms and chemical formulas of his famous scientific papers.