Like J. B. Dumas, Balard had been an apothecary’s pupil. When he spoke of their humble beginnings, Dumas was wont to say rather pompously--“Balard and I were initiated into our scientific life under the same conditions.” When, at the age of forty-two, he was made a member of the Institute, Balard could not contain his joy; he was quite a Southerner in his language and gestures, and the adjective _exubérant_ might have been invented for him. But this same Southerner, ever on the move as he was, belonged to a special race: he always kept his word. “I was glad to note your pleasure at this nomination,” wrote Joseph Pasteur to his son; “it proves that you are grateful to your masters.” About that same time the headmaster of Arbois College, M. Romanet, used to read out to the older boys the letters, always full of gratitude, which he received from Louis Pasteur. These letters reflected life in Paris, such as Pasteur understood it--a life of hard work and exalted ambition. M. Romanet, in one of his replies, asked him to become librarian _in partibus_ for the college and to choose and procure books on science and literature. The headmaster also begged of the young man some lectures for the _rhétorique_ class during the holidays. “It would seem to the boys like an echo of the Sorbonne lectures! And you would speak to us of our great scientific men,” added M. Romanet, “amongst whom we shall one day number him who once was one of our best pupils and will ever remain one of our best friends.” A corresponding member of Arbois College, and retained as vacation lecturer, Pasteur now undertook a yet more special task. He had often heard his father deplore his own lack of instruction, and knew well the elder man’s desire for knowledge. By a touching exchange of parts, the child to whom his father had taught his alphabet now became his father’s teacher; but with what respect and what delicacy did this filial master express himself! “It is in order that you may be able to help Josephine that I am sending you this work to do.” He took most seriously his task of tutor by correspondence; the papers he sent were not always easy. His father wrote (Jan. 2, 1845)--“I have spent two days over a problem which I afterwards found quite easy; it is no trifle to learn a thing and teach it directly afterwards.” And a month later: “Josephine does not care to rack her brains, she says; however I promise you that you will be pleased with her progress by the next holidays.” The father would often sit up late at night over rules of grammar and mathematical problems, preparing answers to send to his boy in Paris.