Nor was it only at the moment of death that the expression of sincere respect and merited honor was paid. When there was question of erecting a Pasteur institute, in which the master's great work could be carried on more effectually, contributions poured in from every part of France and from all over the civilized world. Two of the world's greatest hereditary rulers made it a point to visit the humble laboratory of the great scientist whenever they came to Paris. Alexander II, the Czar of the Russians, was the intimate friend of the tanner's son, who became the world's benefactor. Dom Pedro II, the late Emperor of Brazil was another royal visitor to Pasteur. In the library of the Institut Pasteur at Paris, the busts of these two and of two other great friends of his, scarcely less in worldly importance and greater in their beneficence, keep watch above the ashes of the dead scientist. They are Baroness Hirsch, the world benefactress, and Baron Albert Rothschild, the head of the French branch of the great banking family.
All united in honoring the marvellous genius whose work has proved of such practical utility for mankind, and whose discoveries are as yet only beginning their career of pregnant suggestiveness to scientific men. His genius has brought the great ones of earth to his level or raised him to theirs. His own thought on the equality of man is a confession of the faith that was in him. It was expressed in his discourse of reception into the French Academy in the midst of the panegyric on Littré, from which we quoted at the beginning of this sketch: "Where are the true sources of human dignity, of liberty and of modern democracy, if not in the infinite, before which all men are equal? The notion of the infinite finds everywhere its inevitable expression. By it the supernatural is at the bottom of every heart."
Pasteur, the man, is, however, if possible, even more interesting than Pasteur, the greatest of living scientists. In the midst of all his work and his wonderful success, amid the plaudits of the world, Pasteur remained one of the simplest of men and the kindest of friends to those who knew him. Dr. Roux's expression is well known: "The work of Pasteur is admirable; it shows his genius; but one must have lived on terms of intimacy with him in order to know all the goodness of his heart." He was kindness personified, and those who think of him as a cruel vivisector and encourager of experiments upon animals that cause suffering, belie him and his humanity very much. He would never permit animals to be used in experiments without an anesthetic, and even then only when he deemed that use absolutely necessary for the furtherance of projects that promised great benefit to humanity. Nothing was harder for him to do than to walk the hospitals and see human suffering when he was studying the causes of disease in human beings. Even the slight pain inflicted during the [{317}] injections for hydrophobia was a source of great discomfort to him, and his anxiety with regard to these patients was one of the main causes of the breakdown in health that shortened his life.
One of the most beautiful things about Pasteur's personal life is the relation to his family, and especially to his children, and their union in religious simplicity. On the occasion of the death of his father, whom Pasteur loved very deeply and for whom he had instilled the deepest affection into the hearts of his children, he wrote to his daughter, whose first communion was to occur on that day. His letter is that of a man deeply affectionate, sincerely religious, and eminently trustful of the future that faith alone points out. His letter runs:
"He died, my dear Cecelia, the day of your first communion. Those are two memories which will, I hope, never leave your heart, my dear child. I had a presentiment of his death when I asked you to pray particularly on that morning for your grandfather at Arbois. Your prayers will surely be very agreeable to God at such a time, and who knows if grandpa himself did not know of them and did not rejoice with our little Jeanne It is not surprising, then, to find many other expressions of Pasteur's extreme interest in spiritual things, though they might have been little expected from a man so deeply immersed in scientific investigations as he was. After all, it must not be forgotten that his discoveries, by solving the mystery that surrounds the origin of disease, cleared some of the ways of Providence of that inscrutable character which is supposed in shallow minds to constitute the greatest part of their impressiveness. With epidemics explained, not as dispensations of Divine Providence, but as representing the sanction of nature for the violation of natural laws, one of the [{318}] reasons for which mankind worshipped the Deity seemed to be gone. The man who had done most to make clear these mysterious processes of nature was, however, himself far from thinking that materialism offers any adequate explanation of the mysteries of life, or of the relations of man to man, and of man to his Creator. Impatient at the pretensions of such pseudoscientists, Pasteur once said: "Posterity will one day laugh at the sublime foolishness of the modern materialistic philosophy. The more I study nature, the more I stand amazed at the work of the Creator. I pray while I am engaged at my work in the laboratory." For Pasteur, death had no mysteries. He had written to his father, once, on the death of his little daughter Jeanne: "I can only think at this moment of my poor little one so good, so full of life, so happy in living, and whom this fatal year, now drawing to a close, has snatched from us. After a very short time she would have been for her mother and for me, for all of us, a friend, a companion, a helpmate. But I ask your pardon, dear father, for recalling to you such sad memories. She is happy. Let us think of those who remain, and let us try to prevent for them, as far as lies in our power, the bitternesses of life." So, when it came to the hour of his own death, Pasteur faced it with the simple confidence of a sincere Christian, and the undoubting faith of a lifelong son of the Church. For many hours he remained motionless, one of his hands resting in that of Madame Pasteur, while the other held a crucifix. His last conscious glance was for his lifelong companion, his last conscious act a pressure of the image of his Redeemer. Thus, surrounded by his family and disciples in a room of almost monastic simplicity, on Saturday, September 28, 1895, about five in the afternoon, passed peacefully away the greatest of the nineteenth century scientists. Almost needless to say, the life of a man like Pasteur contains the most wonderful lessons for the young scientists of the twentieth century. Few men have lived their lives so unselfishly, and with so much preoccupation for the good that they might accomplish, as he did. To have remained in the midst of it all simple, earnest and faithful to duty, without self-seeking, is a triumph worthy of recording, and makes a career well deserving of emulation. When Pasteur made his discoveries with regard to fermentation the Empress of the French asked to be shown just what his investigations had demonstrated. Pasteur went to Court for the purpose, and after the Emperor and Empress had been shown the ferment cells, and expressed their interest, Eugenie said: "Now, you will develop this discovery industrially, will you not?" Pasteur replied. "Ah, no, that will be left for others. It does not seem to me that it would be worthy of a French scientist to allow himself to be diverted to the industrial applications of his discoveries, even though it might prove eminently lucrative for him." As a matter of fact, had Pasteur allowed himself to be allured into the foundation of an immense manufactory constructed and directed on the great principles which he had discovered, there seems no doubt that this would have been a wonderful money-making scheme. Certain it is that the capital for such an adventure would have been readily available. Had Pasteur yielded to the solicitations made him he might have died worth many millions, instead of the very modest competency which came to him in the ordinary course of his scientific labors. The money might have seemed a temptation for the sake of his children, but the world would have lost all the great discoveries with regard to human diseases. It is not unlikely that these would have been made even without Pasteur, There is no doubt, however, that their discovery [{320}] would have been very much delayed and that as a consequence almost untold human suffering that has been prevented would have occurred. It must never be forgotten that such men as Lister and Koch derived their most fertile suggestions from the discoveries made by Pasteur.