Louis Pasteur: His Life and Labours

by René Vallery-Radot

Still, as it never occurs to the cultivator to infect the worms directly by giving them food charged with corpusculous débris, it might be asked how, in the industrial establishments, such results can be produced. Pasteur lost no time in solving this difficulty.

In a cultivation containing corpusculous worms these worms perpetually furnish contagious matter, which falls upon the leaf and fouls it. This is the excreta of the worms, which the microscope shows to be more or less filled with corpuscles drawn from the lining of the intestinal canal. It is there that they swarm. It is easy to understand that these excreta, falling on the leaves, contaminate them all the more easily because the worms, by the weight of their bodies in crawling, press the excreta against the leaves. This is one cause of natural contagion. By the excreta of corpusculous worms which he crushed, mixed with water, and spread with a paint-brush over the mulberry leaves intended for a single meal, Pasteur was able to communicate the contagion to as many worms as he liked.

He also indicated another natural and direct cause of contagion. The six fore-feet of the worm have sharp hooks at their ends, by means of which the worms prick each other's skins. Let any one imagine a healthy worm passing over the body of the corpusculous worm. The hooks of the first worm, by penetrating the skin of the second, are liable to be soiled by the corpuscles immediately below that skin; and these hooks are capable of carrying the seeds of disease to other healthy worms, which may be pricked in their turn. To demonstrate experimentally, as Pasteur did, the existence of this cause of contagion, it was only necessary to take some worms and allow them to wound each other. Lastly, infection at a distance, through the medium of the air and the dust it carries, is a fact equally well established. It is sufficient, by sweeping the breeding-houses, or by shaking the hurdles, to stir up the dust of corpusculous excretions and the dried remains of dead worms, and to allow them to be spread over the hurdles of the healthy worms, to cause, after a certain time, contagion to appear among these worms. When very healthy worms were placed in a breeding nursery at a considerable distance from unhealthy worms, they, in their turn, became infected.

After so many decisive experiments it was no longer possible not to see in pébrine an essentially contagious disease. Nevertheless, among facts invoked in favour of non-contagion, there was one which it was difficult to explain. There existed several examples of successful cultivations conducted in nurseries which had totally failed from the effects of pébrine the year before. The explanation is, as shown by Pasteur, that the dust can only act as a contagion when it is fresh. Corpusculous matter, when thoroughly dried, loses its virulence. A few weeks suffice to render such matter inoffensive: hence the dust of one year is not injurious to the cultivations of the next year. The corpuscles contained in the eggs intended for future cultivation alone cause the transmission of the disease to future generations.

And what can be more easily understood than the presence of corpusculous parasites in the egg? The egg comes into existence during that marvellous phase of the life of a silkworm when, after having spun its cocoon, it sleeps within it as a chrysalis, resolving itself, so to speak, into those kinds of albumen and yelk from which the fully-formed moth will emerge, as a chick emerges from its egg. Let anyone imagine this origin of an approaching life, no longer in its normal purity, but associated with a parasite which will find in the materials surrounding it, so adapted to life and transformation, the elements of its own nourishment and multiplication. This parasite will be present when the eggs of the female moth, tender and soft as albumen, begin to define their outlines. Woe betide those eggs if they then enclose any particles of corpuscle, or of its original matrix. In vain will the envelope of those eggs become by degrees hard and horny; the enemy is within, and later on he will be discovered in the embryo of the silkworm.

Thus this terrible plague is at the same time contagious and hereditary, helping us to understand the evolution of this double character in certain maladies both of men and animals.

II.

The first time Pasteur went to Alais the silkworm epidemic was universally attributed to a single cause—pébrine. Pébrine was called the disease. This word expressed everything. It indicated the existence of a mysterious scourge, the origin and nature of which could not be traced, but which was ready to fall upon all the establishments devoted to the nurture of the worms. Whatever might happen, or whatever might be the cause of ruin in a silkworm nursery, the disease was held responsible. One of the most striking proofs that the evil was attributed to pébrine alone is found in the fact that a prize of 5,000 florins was offered by the Austrian Government in 1868, as a reward for the discovery of the best remedy for the prevention and cure of pébrine—'the epidemic disease which devastates the silkworm.'

A rapid glance at the principles which have just been established suffices to show that pébrine might now be regarded as vanquished. Pasteur had demonstrated that moths free from corpuscles never produced a single corpusculous egg; he had proved, moreover, that eggs brought up in a state of isolation, at a distance from contaminated eggs, produce no worms, chrysalides, or moths which are corpusculous. It was easy, therefore, to multiply cultivations free from pébrine. The production of silk and the production of eggs was thus secured. To make sure that the eggs were pure it was only necessary to have recourse to the microscopic examination of the moths which had produced them. These observations might be made by women, by young girls, even by children. It was sufficient to crush up a moth in a little water, and to put a drop of this mixture under the microscope, to see the corpuscles clearly, if they existed. It seemed, then, that the plague was got rid of. But Pasteur was not slow in recognising that the general belief in a single malady could not be justified. If the experiments of 1866 had demonstrated to him the full extent of the corpusculous malady, and had established the principles of a treatment proper for its prevention, the method he had adopted had also shown him that pébrine was far from being the only cause from which the silk culture suffered.

It was in 1867 that this result was obtained. From an experimental point of view, that year counted double for Pasteur. Influenced by a profound sympathy for the misery which he had witnessed during two successive years, and, at the same time, impatient to find the cause of the scourge, Pasteur, in the months of February, March, and April, in advance of the great industrial cultivations, commenced a series of experiments on worms hatched by artificial heat, and fed with mulberry leaves from a hothouse.