Some of these little bodies, especially those of the bacillary and bacterial class, are extremely minute, and are best examined with powers ranging from one-tenth to one-twenty-fifth of an inch; and it is impossible to ignore the fact that their study requires not only good instruments, but much patience and skilled attention. Nevertheless, such study fairly comes within the scope of this Society’s work, and will most certainly repay any of its members who may be induced adequately to undertake it.

Nor let it be said that minuteness is any reason for lack of interest on the part of the naturalist. For many of these micro-organisms have already been shown to be as varied, and to have as definite a structure, and as special a life history, as any of the larger types of beings; whilst, of course, we all recognise that apparent size is as nothing, that it is a mere accident, a question of the construction of our enquiring eyes, a condition that is at once altered and rectified by a magnifying glass.

If it be true that the invasion and presence of various small organisms in the blood or tissues is the cause of the various specific diseases to which I have alluded, then the application of such knowledge as naturalists can obtain, as to the food and other conditions necessary to their existence; their mode of ingress to the body; their development and multiplication, becomes clear and obvious. It opens up to our minds possibilities both of prevention, and of either mitigation or cure. For it is evident that if we can starve these Germs of their necessary nutriment, or make their new habitation unsuitable for their healthy and vigorous development, their career as invaders will necessarily either be cut short, or be rendered feeble and impotent; and therefore the disease-changes which they can produce less violent and less lethal.

Something of this kind appears naturally to have taken place in those persons in whom some of the zymotic diseases (of which Measles, Scarlet Fever, Whooping Cough, etc., may be taken as familiar types) have once run their course; in those, that is, who are popularly said to have already had these diseases. And although the exact abiding change which is produced has not been ascertained, yet it is well known, and quite understood, to be one which renders the fluids or tissues partially or wholly unsuitable for their future healthy growth.

This theory, too, is the well-known explanation of the protective power of the Cow Pox, which once having permeated a human system, has rendered it unsuitable for the future healthy and vigorous development of its greater relation—the Small Pox.

In default of available means of destroying the Germs of other malignant diseases, prolonged efforts have been made (and notably by the great French pathologist, Pasteur) so to diminish the intensity of the destructive force of some of these specific Germs, that they may be safely inoculated into human bodies without danger to life, and yet be potent enough in their effects to anticipate and render abortive the invasion of the more virulent diseases. This has been attempted by repeated cultivations of the Germs in proper media, until after several of such generations the broods shall have acquired the requisite diminished vitality—in fact, until that diminution of virulence which the Small Pox Germ has sustained in passing through the Cow has been obtained by these artificial means.

We are all familiar with the attempts which have recently been made by Pasteur in this direction, in regard to that most fatal disease Hydrophobia. It remains to be seen how far he has been successful in solving this preventive problem; and how far this may be the true method by which to utilize our knowledge of bacterial life. Medical men are diligently working at this subject from their own point of view. There is much to be done by microscopic naturalists in unravelling the life-history of these little beings; and we are glad to recognise the kind of results which may be hoped for in the future.

Such considerations as these are fraught with matter for deep reflection, and tend to open our minds to the far-reaching possibilities not only of this special knowledge, but of that which we are gaining in many other branches of science. Each fresh item of knowledge is like a new step upon a ladder, and raises us to a fresh height from which we can take a wider survey, and which we can assume as a loftier and broader basis for further enquiry. Scientific thought is ever as to what may next be done, and how to do it. For, as Sir James Paget has recently said: “Every increase of knowledge brings before us a larger and clearer view of the immeasurable quantity which is still to be gained. The more we know, the more can we see, if we will, how much more there is that we do not know.” And of this we may be sure, that it is by minute and exact work only that in the future our store of knowledge is to be increased and made sure. If no other example to prove this were at hand, it would be sufficient to quote the recent observations of the Rev. Dr. Dallinger on the subject of the conjugation of the nuclei of some minute forms of cell life: observations which bring us nearer to some definite knowledge of this particular matter than any hitherto made upon higher classes of creatures.

Dr. Dallinger has spoken of the “vast area of activity and research in this direction;” and Professor Huxley has said, “that those who have toiled for the advancement of science are in a fair way of being overwhelmed by the realisation of their wishes.”

We appear indeed to be still only on the threshold of knowledge, to have merely touched the fringe of the vast and infinite life-history which the living world, that inexhaustible stream of life which we see everywhere around us, contains. We are proud of the amount of our natural history knowledge. We think to have accumulated a large store of information as to that especially of our own district. We can point to the lists of animals and plants which the research of the members of our Society, and others, has so laboriously gathered together. And we can look to the stores of our Museum as illustrations of what has been done. And yet a little further consideration at once shows us how small a part this is of what is yet to be known. We know the gross form of the specimens; we know something of their habits during life; and yet how little is this of what there is to be known about them. Who is there of the most learned who can properly explain the meaning of one hundredth part of what these creatures present in form, size, colour, and intimate structure? We have a general idea that their special peculiarities have relation to the two primary essentials of life—the daily bread, and the perpetuation of the species—but we are largely unable to explain the raison d’etre of many of the commonest facts which they present. It will be a great day when we can also explain the object or utility of all the variations which they present.