The Pasteur Institute--Dreams realised--Metchnikoff at fifty--
Growing optimism--Attenuated sensitiveness--The Sèvres villa--
Daily routine.
Having decided to settle in France, we hastened to make ourselves
acquainted with contemporary French literature, thinking to find in it
a reflection of the soul and manners of the nation. But the realistic
literature of the time, in spite of the great artistic worth of many of
the authors, gave us an erroneous idea of life in France, of which it
represented but one of many aspects. It was therefore with apprehension
that we asked ourselves if we should ever be able to adapt ourselves to
the new conditions, and whether our isolation would not be great.
We arrived in Paris on the 15th of October 1888, and we lodged at a
small hotel in the Latin quarter, not far from the rue d'Ulm where the
old Pasteur Institute stood, the new one not being completed. There
was but little room in the laboratory, and Metchnikoff felt rather
uneasy, fearing that he was in the way. But the new Institute soon was
sufficiently advanced for him to settle there.
He was given two rooms on the second floor; I served as his assistant;
he was perfectly happy at being at last able to give himself up in
peace to his work. Soon, young physicians came to work under his
direction. Their number having increased, he was given a whole floor in
which to instal them, two rooms on that floor being reserved for his
own use. He occupied these rooms until the end of his life.
His dreams were at last realised. This is from a narration of the
causes which led to his departure from Russia, in his own words:
Thus it was in Paris that I succeeded at last in practising pure
Science apart from all politics or any public function. That dream
could not have been realised in Russia because of obstacles from
above, from below, and from all sides. One might think that the hour
of science in Russia has not yet struck. I do not believe that. I
think, on the contrary, that scientific work is indispensable to
Russia, and I wish from my heart that future conditions may become
more favourable than in the time of which I have spoken in the above
lines.
Soon he was able to appreciate the great French qualities: humanitarian
manners, tolerance, and gentleness, real freedom of thought, loyal and
courteous intercourse, all of which made life easy and agreeable. And
most precious of all were the true friendships which he contracted with
his colleagues and his pupils. Indeed the Institut Pasteur and France
became for him a second Motherland, and when in later years he was
invited to other countries with more liberal conditions, he habitually
replied that only for one place would he leave the Pasteur Institute,
"the neighbouring cemetery of Montparnasse."
However, after his death, the Pasteur Institute which he had so loved
continued to give him hospitality and harboured his ashes....
Pasteur himself ever was most kind and helpful to Metchnikoff. During
the first years, when his health still allowed it, he used often to
come to the laboratory, questioning Metchnikoff on his researches with
much interest and always warmly encouraging him. He even attended
assiduously his course of lectures on inflammation. After his state
of health no longer allowed him to go out, Metchnikoff used to visit
him every day, and tried to cheer him by talking to him of current
researches.
MM. Duclaux and Roux became his closest friends; they were at first
brought together by scientific interests and by questions concerning
the Institute; but, gradually, personal sympathy grew up between them,
binding them by that solid bond which is made up of daily occurrences,
inducing respect, confidence, and affection. Moreover, Metchnikoff felt
the deepest gratitude towards Pasteur and his collaborators, who had
given him the possibility of working in so favourable an atmosphere.
From the very first, Pasteur sympathised with the phagocyte theory;
the other members of the Institute thought it too biological, almost
vitalistic. But when they had made themselves thoroughly cognisant with
it, they also adopted it. Thus, having found in the Pasteur Institute
not only favourable working conditions but also moral support,
Metchnikoff became deeply attached to it, and the interests of "the
House" became his.
In 1915, on the occasion of Metchnikoff's seventieth anniversary, M.
Roux, in a Jubilee speech, gave of him and of his work the following
appreciation which describes, better than anything I could say, what
his part was in the Pasteur Institute:
In Paris as in Petrograd, as in Odessa, you have become a leader of
thought, and you have kindled in this Institute a scientific focus
which has radiated afar.
Your laboratory is more alive than any in the house; workers come
to it in crowds. There, the bacteriological events of the day are
discussed, interesting preparations examined, ideas sought for that
may help an experimenter to solve difficulties in which he has become
involved. It is to you that one comes to ask for a control experiment
on a newly observed fact, for a criticism of a discovery that does
not always survive the test.
Moreover, as you read everything, every one comes to you for
information, for an account of a newly published memoir which there
is no time to read. It is much more convenient than to consult
the library and also much safer, for errors of translation and
interpretation are avoided.
Your erudition is so vast and so accurate that it is made use of by
the whole house. How many times have I not availed myself of it?
One never fears to take advantage of it, for no scientific question
ever finds you indifferent. Your ardour warms the indolent and gives
confidence to the sceptical.
You are an incomparable collaborator as I know, I who have had the
good fortune of being associated with your researches on several
occasions. Indeed, you did nearly all the work!
More even than your science, your kindliness attracts; who amongst us
has not experienced it? I have had a touching proof of it when, many
times, you have nursed me as if I were your own child. You are so
happy in doing good that you even feel gratitude towards those whom
you serve.
This is such an intimate gathering that I may be allowed to say quite
openly that it is so painful to you not to give that you prefer being
exploited rather than close your hand.
The Pasteur Institute owes you much; you have brought to it the
prestige of your renown, and by your work and that of your pupils
you have greatly contributed to its glory. You have given a noble
example of disinterestedness by refusing any salary in those years
when the budget was balanced with difficulty and by preferring to the
glorious and lucrative situations that were offered to you the modest
life of this house. Still a Russian by nationality, you have become
French by your choice, and you contracted a Franco-Russian alliance
with the Pasteur Institute long before the diplomats thought of it.
At the beginning the members of the Pasteur Institute were few, and
the association bore a quasi-family character, Pasteurians often being
compared with a monastic order, united by the worship of science. The
progressive growth of the Institute inevitably destroyed its character
of intimacy, but it remained a precious scientific focus, and this is
what Metchnikoff said of it in 1913, _à propos_ of the twenty-fifth
anniversary of its foundation:
If we weigh the for and against of the Pasteur Institute, it is
indisputable that the first surpasses the second by a great deal. I
do not think another institution exists that is equally favourable
to work. Innumerable proofs have been adduced to attest this in the
twenty-five years that our House has existed.
It was especially the development of pure scientific research in the
Institute which interested Metchnikoff; he continually considered means
of contributing towards it; he thought it necessary to attract active
scientific forces regardless of their origin, to institute generous
scientific "scholarships," and to stimulate by every means scientific
activity and spirit.
As the rapid development of bacteriology necessitated having recourse
to chemistry, physics, and physiology, he considered it indispensable
to organise collective work in which specialists in these divers
branches should take part, thus collaborating to the solution of
the same problem. Later he was able to realise this project, up to a
certain point, in his own laboratory, when studying intestinal flora.
He thought it would be useful to extend this method, as far as
possible, to researches such as that on tuberculosis and on cancer,
such researches being complicated and protracted and demanding
co-ordinate efforts and an organisation that should prevent the
repetition of individual first steps. A clinic attached to the
Pasteur Institute and adapted to scientific researches seemed to him
indispensable.
He also considered that the experimental study of those human diseases
which can only be inoculated in anthropoid apes should be carried out
through the breeding of those animals in the colonies, for infantile
diseases demand very young apes as subjects for experiments, and they
cannot be brought to Europe in sufficient numbers without great loss. A
mission of workers might carry out experiments on the spot.
He thought the popularisation of science a very useful thing and wished
the Pasteur Institute to participate in it by appropriate courses of
public lectures. He attached great importance to the penetration into
ordinary life of results acquired by science, for the struggle against
disease consists chiefly in prophylactic and hygienic measures which
can only be applied by a well-informed public. For that reason he was
always willing to be interviewed on scientific questions by journalists
and, indeed, by any one, however ignorant. In order to instruct the
public he often wrote popular articles on questions of hygiene and
medicine.
Science in general never was a dead letter for him; his most abstract
conceptions were always narrowly bound to life; he saw one through the
other and considered that they should serve each other.
Apart from scientific researches, he took part in the courses given at
the Pasteur Institute. He prepared his lectures with infinite care,
and, in spite of his long experience, he never could give them without
some nervousness, especially during the last years of his life. He used
even to write down the first sentences and to read them out in order
to give himself time to recover; but very soon his self-control would
return, and he would proceed with animation and lucidity; his lectures
were living and suggestive.
I have mentioned above Roux's masterly appreciation of his influence at
the Pasteur Institute. The following was written to me, a year after
Metchnikoff's death, by one of his closest disciples and collaborators,
and describes in a vivid manner the deep feelings with which he
inspired his pupils:
"You say that you love to think that he continues to live in
others. Could it have been otherwise? A character as powerful as
his is capable of influencing and illuminating the life, not of one
individual, but of a whole generation. I look upon it as the greatest
good fortune of my life that I was able to spend my best years in his
orbit and to impregnate my mind with his spirit, not his scientific
spirit, but that which he manifested in facing life and humanity.
"This bond has become so much part of myself that my first impulse
is always to act in the way he would have approved. I even feel the
need to share with others what I received from him. I do not know
whether it will be given to me to solve certain problems posed by
him, but I have the conviction that his spirit, in its purity, will
be preserved among us. He will ever live in those who worked by his
side, and in those who will come to work in his laboratory. It cannot
be otherwise."
Metchnikoff on his part never remained indifferent to his pupils. His
solicitude towards them was warm, sometimes paternal, always ready and
active. Many of his pupils remained his friends and collaborators for
years afterwards. His fiery and exclusive temperament, however, made
him take up a very different attitude in exceptional cases, when he
found himself in front of one who persisted in a path which Metchnikoff
himself considered the wrong path, or before an action which he thought
disloyal or work done without conscience. Then he became beside
himself, and positively dangerous to those who had exposed themselves
to the paroxysm of his indignation.
Fortunately such cases were rare; as a general rule, the atmosphere of
his laboratory was impregnated with scientific spirit and ardour; all
forces in it converged towards the same goal, being bound together by a
community of aspirations and activity of which he was the soul.
* * * * *
The first period of his life in France was taken up by the
strengthening and development of the phagocyte theory and by an eager
struggle in its defence. He displayed in it his full energy as a
scientist and a fighter, and this was perhaps the most agitated, the
most tense period of his life.
When at last his theory was securely established and began to be
accepted, he continued his researches with the same passionate ardour
but in an atmosphere of peace. It was joy and bliss to him to be able
to work apart from other preoccupations, and the years of his life
between fifty and sixty were the happiest he ever had.
The state of his soul and his ideas had considerably evolved in the
course of years; the great moral and physical sensitiveness which had
so often made him miserable in his youth had decreased and he had
become much less impulsive. Unpleasant sensations no longer caused him
so much suffering; he could bear the mewing of a cat or the barking of
a dog; personal vexations no longer made him take such a horror of life
as to wish to be rid of it: he now merely tried to conquer them.
At first this change operated less upon his ideas than upon his
sensations and sentiments. Accustomed as he was to analyse his
emotions, he realised the development within himself of a new sense of
appreciation; less sensitive now to extreme impressions, he had become
more so to ordinary ones. For instance, though less enchanted by music,
and less irritated by discordant noises, he enjoyed absolute calm more
fully. Now indifferent to rich food, which he formerly used to enjoy,
he appreciated simple fare, bread and pure water. He did not seek for
picturesque sites but took infinite pleasure in watching the growth of
grass or the bursting of a bud. The first halting steps or the smile of
an infant charmed and delighted him.
Demanding less from life, he now appreciated it as it was, and
experienced the joy of mere living. The instinct, the sense of life
had been born in him. He now saw Life and Nature under a different
aspect from that which they had borne for him in his youth, for he had
gradually acquired more balance; he had become adapted.
In their turn, his ideas evolved towards a more optimistic conception
of life. His reflections, freed from the yoke of his juvenile
sensitiveness, tended towards the possibility of a correction of the
disharmonies of human nature through knowledge and will. This evolution
had taken years. "In order to understand the meaning of life," he said,
"it is necessary to live a long time, without which one finds oneself
in the position of a congenitally blind man before whom the beauties of
colour are spread out."
* * * * *
During the twenty-eight years that he lived in France, nearly all his
time was devoted to the laboratory. Whilst the Institute was still in
its beginning, work there was calm and collected; but, as its growing
renown attracted many people, this quietude decreased considerably.
Metchnikoff felt this, but could not bring himself to refuse to admit
those who came; he compensated himself by peaceful Sundays and holidays.
For a long time we inhabited the neighbourhood of the Institute and
spent the summers at Sèvres; in 1898 we bought a small villa there with
a sum of money which we inherited from an aunt. In 1905 we settled
there altogether, for Metchnikoff, confined in the laboratory all day,
felt the need of fresh air; the daily walk that he was obliged to take
to reach the house and the absolute calm, away from the noise of the
city, suited him; he even fancied that the hill on which the house was
built provided him with a wholesome exercise for his heart.
The return to Sèvres, which he greatly liked, was to him a daily source
of pleasure. I can see him now, hastily coming out of the train, his
pockets full of papers and brochures which he read in the train and
parcels in his hands, for he loved to bring home little presents. A
kindly smile illumined his face and he never failed to express the
pleasure he felt at coming home. "How pure the air is! How green the
grass! What peace! You see, if I did not go to Paris to work I should
not be so alive to the charm of Sèvres and the pleasure of rest." He
used to come home at seven and do no more work; it was his daily rest.
He then gave himself up to complete relaxation, joked, related the
incidents of the day, spoke of his researches, planned experiments
for the next day, read aloud part of the evening and then listened to
music, not only because he liked it, but also because he wanted to
"switch on to another line," _i.e._ rest his mind completely.
He was an incomparable companion, always alive and communicative,
generously giving out the treasures of his heart and his intelligence.
He liked a simple life; all artifice, all convention displeased him. He
disliked luxury in his person to that extent that he never consented
to possess a gold watch nor any object with no particular use. His
only luxury was to gratify others. He enjoyed peaceful family life and
a circle of intimate friends. Yet, appreciating as he did all serious
manifestations of life, he was glad to have the opportunity of meeting
people who were interesting either in themselves or for the knowledge
which they could impart.
In Life as in Science he found precepts to help the evolution of his
moral and philosophical ideas, which he placed in their turn at Life's
service. If he could not solve a problem, he at least pointed out its
importance.
His attentive penetration of things in themselves, coupled with a
creative imagination, was the force which enabled him to open out new
prospects and new paths.
On looking back upon his own life, he used to say that the period spent
at the Pasteur Institute had been the happiest, the most favourable to
his scientific work; he therefore remained deeply attached to it until
the end of his life.