Part 22

But if prickly plants (notably the pointed ends of dried thistle leaves, or beards of barley blades cut into little bits about a centimeter in length) were added to this infected food, the mortality increased to a striking extent. On examination after death, the lesions of these animals were found to be similar to those observed in sheep which were attacked by splenic fever in sheds, or which died of the disease in the open fields.

From that time forward, the idea which had been predominant in the minds of Pasteur and his fellow-workers during all their inquiries, was materially strengthened. They were convinced that the animals which died of blood disease in the department of Eure et Loire had been infected by germs or spores of the splenic microbe contained in their food; but the question remained, Whence came these germs?

From the moment when all belief in the spontaneous generation of the parasite is rejected, attention is naturally drawn to the possible consequences which may arise from burying in the earth animals which have died of splenic fever. In the greater number of cases, when the knacker's establishment is too far off and the dead animal is of little value, a trench is dug on the spot, at a depth varying from half a meter to a meter. If the animal dies in a field, it is buried where it falls; if it dies in a shed the body is carried into a neighbouring field. There it is buried, and putrefaction sets in; and since all the splenic fever filaments of the blood are destroyed by putrefaction, it was thought that no dissemination of the germs of splenic fever, after the animal had been buried, could occur. Pasteur showed that this opinion rested on a superficial observation. Even when the animal is not cut up, blood spreads itself outside of the body in more or less abundance. Is it not an habitual characteristic of the disease, that at the time of death blood issues from the nostrils and the mouth, and that the urine is often bloody? All around the corpse, therefore, the earth is polluted with blood. Moreover it takes several days for the splenic fever microbe to resolve itself into harmless granulations by the action of gases, other than oxygen, which putrefaction generates. During this time, the excessive inflation of the dead body causes the liquids of the interior to issue from all the natural apertures. How often also, a rent in the skin or the tissues increases this flow. The blood and other matters, mixed with the surrounding aerated soil, are no longer in the conditions of putrefaction, but rather in those which form a suitable medium of cultivation for the microbe. Experiments confirmed these views. Adding some splenic fever blood to earth sprinkled with the water of yeast, or with urine, at summer temperature, or at the temperature which the fermentation of a dead body keeps up around it, as in a dung heap, in less than twenty-four hours the splenic fever filaments deposited with the blood had multiplied and resolved themselves into spores. These spores were afterwards found in their state of latent life, ready to germinate and to communicate splenic fever, after remaining in the earth for months, and even years.

These experiments, curious as they were, were only, so to speak, laboratory experiments. It was necessary to investigate what happened in the open country with all the variations of dryness, of damp, and of cultivation. A happy inspiration came to Pasteur and his assistants. They had buried in the midst of summer, in an isolated corner of the farm of St. Germain, near Chartres, a sheep which had died of natural splenic fever, and of which they had made the autopsy. Ten months afterwards, and again fourteen months afterwards, the idea occurred to them of collecting some of the earth from this grave. After having examined it, and established the presence of the spores of the microbe, they produced, by the inoculation of guinea-pigs, the splenic disease and death. But the circumstance which deserves the greatest attention, is that the same experiment was successfully made with the earth on the surface of the grave, though this earth had not been disturbed during the interval. Some experiments were afterwards made on the earth of some trenches dug in a meadow of the Jura, where some cows which had died of splenic fever had been buried at a depth of two meters. Two years afterwards, by successive washings of the earth on the surface of the graves, deposits were extracted which at once produced splenic disease. At three trials within these two years the same surface earths produced splenic fever, while, away from the graves, the earth exhibited nothing of the kind. Finally, Pasteur and his assistants proved that on the surface of the earth which covered the buried animals, the germs were again found, after all the operations of ploughing, sowing, and reaping.

But how, it will be asked, can the earth, which is so powerful a filter, allow the germs of microscopic organisms to rise again to its surface? Is one not tempted here to quote Pasteur against himself, since, in his joint researches with M. Joubert, Pasteur had proved that the waters of springs issuing from the earth, even at a shallow depth, are entirely free from germs? Such waters, nevertheless, being supplied from the earth's surface, which is constantly washed by rain, the effect must be to carry down the finest particles to the springs. But these latter, notwithstanding conditions so conducive to their pollution, remain perfectly pure. Can there be a better proof that earth of a certain thickness will arrest all solid particles, even the most minute? Nevertheless, in these experiments on splenic fever, we hear of microscopic germs, starting from the depths and coming up to the surface--that is to say, in a direction contrary to the flow of the rain. This is an enigma.

The explanation will cause surprise. The earth-worms transport the germs, and bring up, from the depths where they lie buried, the terrible microbes. In the tiny cylinders of earth which the worms deposit on the surface of the soil, after the dews of the morning or after rain, the splenic germs are to be found. It is easy to prove this directly. If in earth, with which spores of the microbe have been previously mingled, we place some worms, and at the end of several days open the bodies of these worms, with all necessary precautions, so as to extract from them the earthy matter which fills their intestinal canals, we find in them large numbers of splenic fever spores. It is, then, absolutely proved, that if splenic fever germs exist, as they often do, in the light earth which covers the pits in which animals dead of that disease lie buried, these germs result from the disintegration by rain of the little excremental cylinders deposited by the earth-worms. The dust of this disintegrated earth spreads itself over the grasses on a level with the soil, and thus it is that animals come to find on the pasture-field, and in particular kinds of forage, the germs of splenic fever by which they are infected.

'In these results,' said Pasteur a short time ago at the Academy of Medicine, 'what outlooks are opened to the mind in regard to the possible influence of earths in the etiology of diseases, and the possible danger of the earth of cemeteries!'

The earth-worms also bring to the surface other germs, which, while they are as harmless to the worms as the splenic germs, are nevertheless bearers of diseases to which animals are liable. All sorts of germs are found in them, and the germs of splenic fever are in fact always associated with those of putrefaction and septicæmia.

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'And now,' concluded Pasteur, when laying before the Academy a rapid survey of the etiology of splenic fever, 'is not the remedy naturally indicated? We should never bury animals in fields destined either for cultivation, for forage, or for sheep pasture. When it is possible a sandy soil should be chosen for the purpose, or any poor calcareous soil, dry, and easily desiccated--in a word, soil not suited to the existence of earth-worms.' M. Tisserand, Director of Agriculture, has remarked that splenic fever is unknown in the region of the Savarts of Champagne, although it is surrounded by countries invaded by the disease. If the conditions of commerce introduce splenic fever, it is but a passing accident. Must not this be attributed to the fact that in these poor soils, such as that of the camp at Châlons, where the thickness of arable soil is only from 4 to 5 inches, superposed upon chalk, the worms cannot live? In such a soil the burial of a splenic fever animal will give rise to great quantities of germs, which, owing to the absence of earth-worms, will abide in the depths of the soil and remain harmless. Finally, it has been proved that the countries subject to splenic fever have an argillaceous-calcareous soil, and that the disease is unknown in schistose and granitic soils. The contrast of the results, in relation to such differences of soil, is seen sometimes in the Department of the Aveyron, between the right and left side of one and the same road or watercourse.

May we not now in all confidence assert that, if the cultivators choose, splenic fever may soon be a thing of the past among their animals, their shepherds, and among the butchers and the tanners of the towns, because splenic fever and malignant pustule are never spontaneous? The disease exists only where it has been sown, or where it has been diffused by the unconscious instrumentality of the earth-worm.

The progress of vaccination will also contribute to the disappearance of splenic fever; for this preventive, if extensively used, as there is no doubt it will be, must end by establishing a race of domestic animals which, having all sprung from vaccinated parents, will in consequence be more resistant to the disease in its worst form. It will be with them in relation to splenic fever as it is with ourselves in relation to small-pox. It is a well-known fact that the ravages of small-pox are much less considerable in our days than when it first appeared in Europe. It is difficult not to attribute this, at least in part, to the prevalence of vaccination.

In the populations where small-pox is introduced for the first time it has an exceptional intensity. Some months ago a significant fact of this nature occurred in Paris. A whole family of Esquimaux perished from small-pox in the 'Jardin d'Acclimatation.' They had never been vaccinated, nor had their ancestors. They were new to the attacks of small-pox, which did not spread beyond them.

METHOD OF DISCUSSION AND CONTRADICTIONS.

Every new discovery produces a revolution in general ideas; a revolution gladly hailed by some, but opposed by others as disturbing their habits of thought and reasoning. Those also who are thrown out in their calculations, while engaged in working out a problem in any way similar to the one that has been solved, too often atone for their dilatoriness by furious denial of the newly asserted truth. The great fact of the attenuation of virus, the artificial production of the vaccines of chicken cholera and of splenic fever, the importance of their employment for the preservation of animals from these diseases, excited throughout the world a surprise and enthusiasm which passionate critics soon sought to disparage. The fiercest attack was from Germany. It commenced immediately after Pasteur's triumph at the International Congress of Medicine held in London in 1881. The German doctor Koch and his colleagues, MM. Gaffki and Lœffler, published in Berlin, in the report of the German Sanitary Office, a kind of scientific tirade against the discovery of virus vaccine, and the possibility of utilising it in the large operations of cattle-breeding.

At the London Congress Dr. Koch had said to a French physician that the possibility of attenuating virus was a thing too good to be true. The whole question was therefore reopened by Dr. Koch and his disciples. At first Pasteur let the torrent flow; but, not being the man to give way before an adversary, he at last declared that the attacks of the German savants must be repelled at Berlin itself. Continual applications for splenic vaccine were made to him from different parts of Germany. M. Pasteur replied that, seeing that the discovery was so formally contested in Prussia, it would be well, before sending any vaccine abroad, to institute a great demonstrative experiment, as had been done at Pouilly-le-Fort.

Dr. Roloff, head of the Veterinary School of Berlin, hastened to take the initiative, by an application to the German Minister of Agriculture. The minister at once nominated a Commission to follow the experiments in vaccination and to draw up a report for the German Government. M. Pasteur entrusted the conduct of the vaccinations to his new colleague, Louis Thuillier, who accepted with deep and silent joy the management of an experiment that was to test a French discovery. He was always ready for anything, this brave Thuillier, who was destined to die, a martyr to the cause of science, in the full promise of his youth, and in the full hope of glory. His courage and his work were alike great and silent. In the laboratory he would spend days, even weeks, without speaking, bent over his microscope with tenacious resolution, endeavouring to follow Pasteur in all his investigations: proud to live near his illustrious master, happy to be his disciple and to be loved by him almost as a son. What a vacancy he has left in the laboratory! What a place he might have held in science!

The composition of the German Commission, over which M. Beyer, member of the Superior Council of Government, presided, showed clearly the importance attached by Germany to the investigation of this French discovery. Among its members was the famous Professor Virchow.

The experiments were carried out on the estate of Pakisch. The minutes and reports of the Commission left no doubt as to the correctness of the facts announced by Pasteur. But, as the negations of Dr. Koch and his colleagues embraced questions beyond that of the prophylaxy of splenic fever, Pasteur did not rest content with this initial success; he sought for a fresh opportunity of convincing his opponents. This opportunity occurred in September 1882, when an International Hygienic Congress was held at Geneva. Thither went Pasteur, hoping to meet Dr. Koch at the sittings; and he was not disappointed. Dr. Koch was there, surrounded by his disciples. From the tribune of the Congress, Pasteur refuted his criticism, exposed his errors, and challenged him to a discussion in the presence of competent judges. There was an instantaneous salvo of applause, and everyone awaited Dr. Koch's reply. But he declined all debate, reserving his case for careful and deliberate statement in the press.

It took three months for Dr. Koch to bring out a small pamphlet, and these three months had borne their fruit. The discovery of the attenuation of virus, which had been so vehemently attacked only a year before in the report of the Sanitary Office, was now extolled by Dr. Koch as a discovery of the first importance. Being, however, unwilling absolutely to stultify himself, he continued the attack by denying its efficacy in practical agriculture.

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The clear, direct style of argument, which goes straight to its point, was invariably adopted by Pasteur.

'Contradictions may retard, although they cannot ultimately prevent, the recognition of truth,' he once remarked to me when walking in the gardens of the École Normale; 'that is why it is so important to remove the obstacles which temporarily clog and hamper it. In scientific discussions, it is not as in politics,' he added with a smile, 'where demonstration is often difficult. In the natural sciences, doctrines must be based on an assemblage of results, of observations, and of experiments. If a doctrine is challenged, it seldom happens that its truth or falsehood cannot be established by the application of some crucial test. Even a single experiment will often suffice either to refute or consolidate the doctrine.'

Reviewing the labours of the past forty years, Pasteur then called to mind the numerous controversies in which he had been engaged. Not only had he been attacked by Pouchet and Joly on the question of spontaneous generation, by Liebig on the subject of fermentation, by Germans and Italians regarding the attenuation of virus, but every one of his assertions had been met with such passionate opposition that, from sheer weariness, he had invariably ended by referring the matter to some authorised commission, only asking it to put an end to all strife by coming to some definite decision.

The upshot was at times somewhat amusing. For instance, when Pasteur described to the Academy of Medicine how, simply by lowering the temperature of a hen, he had made her susceptible to inoculation with splenic fever, the facts were at once denied by M. Colin, a professor of the school of Alfort. Pasteur immediately requested that a commission might be named, which should include both himself and his opponent among its members. This was on a Tuesday, one of the Academy days of sitting. The following Saturday, in presence of the whole commission, Pasteur produced four hens that had died of splenic fever. M. Colin himself conducted the autopsy. It was clear to everyone that their blood was full of the filaments of the splenic fever parasite. The procès-verbal was drawn up and signed by all the members of the commission, necessarily including M. Colin. The following Tuesday it was read at the sitting of the Academy. To cover his retreat M. Colin now contended that the hens had taken splenic fever not because they had been subjected to a chilling process, but because, so as to keep them in the water, the poor creatures had had their wings and feet tied to planks. This sentimental objection was disposed of by comparative experiments that had been made on hens similarly tied and inoculated, but not chilled. The latter had in no case taken the disease.

At the Academy of Sciences, some days later, a mine was sprung upon Pasteur by a posthumous publication of Claude Bernard's. He again submitted this abruptly raised question to the decision of the Academy. A series of experiments had been found among Bernard's papers, having as their object the inauguration of a new method of spontaneously generating the substance which causes the fermentation of the must of the grape.

'I will start for the Jura,' said Pasteur. 'In the midst of my vineyard, which,' he proudly added, 'is ten meters square, I will cover over some stocks with an improvised frame. These stocks will go on living and bearing grapes, which will ripen. It is now July. At this time of year, as I have already declared, the germs of the cellules which form the ferment of the grape in the vats do not yet exist, either on the green grapes, on the bunches, or on the vine leaves. I will envelop the bunches of the stocks that are underneath the frame with a layer of cotton wool that has been raised to a temperature of 150 degrees Centigrade. This done, I will come back to Paris with the keys of the frame in my pocket, not returning to the Jura until the vintage season, at the beginning of October. I predict to the Academy, that the grapes wrapped in cotton wool under the frame, and which will have grown ripe, may be crushed in the open air, and that the juice coming from them will not be capable of fermentation.'

This prediction was fulfilled. In October, Pasteur returned to the Jura, plucked off several of these stocks, laden with ripe bunches, and brought them with the utmost care to Paris. He had at last the satisfaction of depositing them intact on the table of the Academy of Sciences. He then invited M. Berthelot (editor of Bernard's pamphlet), and all his colleagues, to cut off as many bunches as they pleased. 'Only crush them in contact with pure air,' said he, 'and I defy you to produce fermentation.'