In 1863 Pasteur asked Raulin to come with him, Gernez and Duclaux, to Arbois for some studies on wines, etc., but Raulin, absorbed in the investigations he had undertaken, refused; in 1865 he refused to come to Alais, still being completely wrapt up in the same work. Pasteur sympathized heartily with his pupil’s perseverance, and, when Raulin was at last able to announce to his master the results so long sought after, Pasteur hurried to Caen, where Raulin was now professor of Physics, and returned full of enthusiasm. His modesty in all that concerned himself now giving way to delighted pride, he spoke of Raulin’s discoveries to every one. Yet they concerned an apparently unimportant subject—a microscopical fungus, a simple mucor, whose spores, mingled with atmospheric germs, develop on bread moistened with vinegar or on a slice of lemon; yet no precious plant ever inspired more care or solicitude than that aspergillus niger, as it is called. Raulin, inspired by Pasteur’s studies on cultures in an artificial medium, that is, a medium exclusively composed of defined chemical substances, resolved to find for this plant a typical medium capable of giving its maximum development to the aspergillus niger. Some of his comrades looked upon this as upon a sort of laboratory amusement; but Raulin, ever a man of one idea, looked upon the culture of microscopic vegetation as a step towards a greater knowledge of vegetable physiology, leading to the development of artificial manure production, and from that to the rational nutrition of the human organisms. He started from the conditions indicated by Pasteur for the development of mucedinæ in general and in particular for a mucor which has some points of resemblance with the aspergillus niger, the penicillium glaucum, which spreads a bluish tint over mouldy bread, jam, and soft cheeses. Raulin began by placing pure spores of aspergillus niger on the surface of a saucer containing everything that seemed necessary to their perfect growth, in a stove heated to a temperature of 20°C.; but in spite of every care, after forty days had passed, the tiny fungus was languishing and unhealthy. A temperature of 30° did not seem more successful; and when the stove was heated to above 38° the result was the same. At 35°, with a moist and changing atmosphere, the result was favourable—very fortunately for Raulin, for the principal of the college, an economically minded man, did not approve of burning so much gas for such a tiny fungus and with such poor results. This want of sympathy excited Raulin’s solemn wrath and caused him to meditate dark projects of revenge, such as ignoring his enemy in the street on some future occasion. In the meanwhile he continued his slow and careful experiments. He succeeded at last in composing a liquid, technically called Raulin’s liquid, in which the aspergillus niger grew and flourished within six or even three days. Eleven substances were necessary: water, candied sugar, tartaric acid, nitrate of ammonia, phosphate of ammonia, carbonate of potash, carbonate of magnesia, sulphate of ammonia, sulphate of zinc, sulphate of iron, and silicate of potash. He now studied the part played by each of those elements, varying his quantities, taking away one substance and adding another, and obtained some very curious results. For instance, the aspergillus was extraordinarily sensitive to the action of zinc; if the quantity of zinc was reduced by a few milligrams the vegetation decreased by one-tenth. Other elements were pernicious; if Raulin added to his liquid 1/1600000 of nitrate of silver, the growth of the fungus ceased. Moreover, if he placed the liquid in a silver goblet instead of a china saucer, the vegetation did not even begin, “though,” writes M. Duclaux, analysing this fine work of his fellow student, “it is almost impossible to chemically detect any dissolution of the silver into the liquid. But the fungus proves it by dying.”

In this thesis, now a classic, which only appeared in 1870, Raulin enumerated with joyful gratitude all that he owed to his illustrious master—general views, principles and methods, suggestive ideas, advice and encouragement—saying that Pasteur had shown him the road on which he had travelled so far. Pasteur, touched by his pupil’s affection, wrote to thank him, saying: “You credit me with too much; it is enough for me that your work should be known as having been begun in my laboratory, and in a direction the fruitfulness of which I was perhaps the first to point out. I had only conceived hopes, and you bring us solid realities.”

In April, 1871, Pasteur, preoccupied with the future, and ambitious for those who might come after him, wrote to Claude Bernard: “Allow me to submit to you an idea which has occurred to me, that of conferring on my dear pupil and friend Raulin the Experimental Physiology prize, for his splendid work on the nutriment of mucors, or rather of a mucor, the excellence of which work has not escaped you. I doubt if you can find anything better. I must tell you that this idea occurred to me whilst reading your admirable report on the progress of General Physiology in France. If therefore my suggestion seems to you acceptable, you will have sown the germ of it in my mind; if you disapprove of it I shall make you partly responsible.”

Claude Bernard hastened to reply: “You may depend upon my support for your pupil M. Raulin. It will be for me both a pleasure and a duty to support such excellent work and to glorify the method of the master who inspired it.”

In his letter to Claude Bernard, Pasteur had added these words: “I have made up my mind to go and spend a few months at Royat with my family, so as to be near my dear Duclaux. We shall raise a few grammes of silkworm seed.”

M. Duclaux was then professor of chemistry at the Faculty of Clermont Ferrand, a short distance from Royat, and Pasteur intended to walk every day to the laboratory of his former pupil. But M. Duclaux did not countenance this plan; he meant to entertain his master and his master’s family in his own house, 25, Rue Montlosier, where he could even have one room arranged as a silkworm nursery. He succeeded in persuading Pasteur, and they organized a delightful home life which recalled the days at Pont Gisquet before the war.

Pasteur was seeking the means of making his seed-selecting process applicable to small private nurseries as well as to large industrial establishments. The only difficulty was the cost of the indispensable microscope; but Pasteur thought that each village might possess its microscope, and that the village schoolmaster might be entrusted with the examination of the moths.

In a letter written in April, 1871, to M. Bellotti, of the Milan Civic Museum, Pasteur, after describing in a few lines the simple process he had taken five years to study, added

“If I dared to quote myself, I would recall those words from my book—

“‘If I were a silkworm cultivator I never would raise seed from worms I had not observed during the last days of their life, so as to satisfy myself as to their vigour and agility just before spinning. The seed chosen should be that which comes from worms who climbed the twigs with agility, who showed no mortality from flachery between the fourth moulting and climbing time, and whose freedom from corpuscles will have been demonstrated by the microscope. If that is done, any one with the slightest knowledge of silkworm culture will succeed in every case.’”