Schwann's observations (says Professor Lister) did not receive the

attention which they appeared to me to have deserved. The

fermentation of sugar was generally allowed to be occasioned by the

_Torula cerevisiae_; but it was not admitted that putrefaction was due

to an analogous agency. And yet the two cases present a very striking

parallel. In each a stable chemical compound, sugar in the one case,

albumen in the other, undergoes extraordinary chemical changes under

the influence of an excessively minute quantity of a substance which,

regarded chemically, we should suppose inert. As an example of this

in the case of putrefaction, let us take a circumstance often

witnessed in the treatment of large chronic abscesses. In order to

guard against the access of atmospheric air, we used to draw off the

matter by means of a canula and trocar, such as you see here,

consisting of a silver tube with a sharp-pointed steel rod fitted into

it, and projecting beyond it. The instrument, dipped in oil, was

thrust into the cavity of the abscess, the trocar was withdrawn, and

the pus flowed out through the canula, care being taken by gentle

pressure over the part to prevent the possibility of regurgitation.

The canula was then drawn out with due precaution against the reflux

of air. This method was frequently successful as to its immediate

object, the patient being relieved from the mass of the accumulated

fluid, and experiencing no inconvenience from the operation. But the

pus was pretty certain to reaccumulate in course of time, and it

became necessary again and again to repeat the process. And unhappily

there was no absolute security of immunity from bad consequences.

However carefully the procedure was conducted, it sometimes happened,

even though the puncture seemed healing by first intention, that

feverish symptoms declared themselves in the course of the first or

second day, and, on inspecting the seat of the abscess, the skin was

perhaps seen to be red, implying the presence of some cause of

irritation, while a rapid reaccumulation of the fluid was found to

have occurred. Under these circumstances, it became necessary to open

the abscess by free incision, when a quantity, large in proportion to

the size of the abscess, say, for example, a quart, of pus escaped,

fetid from putrefaction. Now, how had this change been brought about?

Without the germ theory, I venture to say, no rational explanation of

it could have been given. It must have been caused by the

introduction of something from without. Inflammation of the punctured

wound, even supposing it to have occurred, would not explain the

phenomenon. For mere inflammation, whether acute or chronic, though

it occasions the formation of pus, does not induce Putrefaction. The

pus originally evacuated was perfectly sweet, and we know of nothing

to account for the alteration in its quality but the influence of

something derived from the external world. And what could that

something be? The dipping of the instrument in oil, and the

subsequent precautions, prevented the entrance of oxygen. Or even if

you allowed that a few atoms of the gas did enter, it would be an

extraordinary assumption to make that these could in so short a time

effect such changes in so large a mass of albuminous material.

Besides, the pyogenic membrane is abundantly supplied with capillary

vessels, through which arterial blood, rich in oxygen, is perpetually

flowing; and there can be little doubt that the pus, before it was

evacuated at all, was liable to any action which the element might be

disposed to exert upon it.

On the oxygen theory, then, the occurrence of putrefaction under these

circumstances is quite inexplicable. But if you admit the germ

theory, the difficulty vanishes at once. The canula and trocar having

been lying exposed to the air, dust will have been deposited upon

them, and will be present in the angle between the trocar and the

silver tube, and in that protected situation will fail to be wiped off

when the instrument is thrust through the tissues. Then when the

trocar is withdrawn, some portions of this dust will naturally remain

upon the margin of the canula, which is left projecting into the

abscess, and nothing is more likely than that some particles may fail

to be washed off by the stream of out-flowing pus, but may be

dislodged when the tube is taken out, and left behind in the cavity.

The germ theory tells us that these particles of dust will be pretty

sure to contain the germs of putrefactive organisms, and if one such

is left in the albuminous liquid, it will rapidly develop at the high

temperature of the body, and account for all the phenomena.

But striking as is the parallel between putrefaction in this instance

and the vinous fermentation, as regards the greatness of the effect

produced, compared with the minuteness and the inertness, chemically

speaking, of the cause, you will naturally desire further evidence of

the similarity of the two processes. You can see with the microscope

the Torula of fermenting must or beer. Is there, you may ask, any

organism to be detected in the putrefying pus? Yes, gentlemen, there

is. If any drop of the putrid matter is examined with a good glass,

it is found to be teeming with myriads of minute jointed bodies,

called vibrios, which indubitably proclaim their vitality by the

energy of their movements. It is not an affair of probability, but a

fact, that the entire mass of that quart of pus has become peopled

with living organisms as the result of the introduction of the canula

and trocar; for the matter first let out was as free from vibrios as

it was from putrefaction. If this be so, the greatness of the

chemical changes that have taken place in the pus ceases to be

surprising. We know that it is one of the chief peculiarities of

living structures that they possess extraordinary powers of effecting

chemical changes in materials in their vicinity, out of all proportion

to their energy as mere chemical compounds. And we can hardly doubt

that the animalcules which have been developed in the albuminous

liquid, and have grown at its expense, must have altered its

constitution, just as we ourselves alter that of the materials on

which we feed. [Footnote: 'Introductory Lecture before the University

of Edinburgh.']

In the operations of Professor Lister care is taken that every portion

of tissue laid bare by the knife shall be defended from germs; that if

they fall upon the wound they should be killed as they fall. With

this in view he showers upon his exposed surfaces the spray of dilute

carbolic acid, which is particularly deadly to the germs, and he

surrounds the wound in the most careful manner with antiseptic

bandages. To those accustomed to strict experiment it is manifest

that we have a strict experimenter here--a man with a perfectly

distinct object in view, which he pursues with never-tiring patience

and unwavering faith. And the result, in his hospital practice, as

described by himself, has been, that even in the midst of abominations

too shocking to be mentioned here, and in the neighbourhood of wards

where death was rampant from pyaemia, erysipelas, and hospital

gangrene, he was able to keep his patients absolutely free from these

terrible scourges. Let me here recommend to your attention Professor

Lister's 'Introductory Lecture before the University of Edinburgh,'

which I have already quoted; his paper on The Effect of the Antiseptic

System of Treatment on the Salubrity of a Surgical Hospital;' and the

article in the 'British Medical Journal' of January 14, 1871.

If, instead of using carbolic acid spray, he could surround his wounds

with properly filtered air, the result would, he contends, be the

same. In a room where the germs not only float but cling to clothes

and walls, this would be difficult, if not impossible. But surgery is

acquainted with a class of wounds in which the blood is freely mixed

with air that has passed through the lungs, and it is a most

remarkable fact that such air does not produce putrefaction. Professor

Lister, as far as I know, was the first to give a philosophical

interpretation of this fact, which he describes and comments upon

thus:

I have explained to my own mind the remarkable fact that in simple

fracture of the ribs, if the lung be punctured by a fragment, the

blood effused into the pleural cavity, though freely mixed with air,

undergoes no decomposition. The air is sometimes pumped into the

pleural cavity in such abundance that, making its way through the

wound in the pleura costalis, it inflates the cellular tissue of the

whole body. Yet this occasions no alarm to the surgeon (although if

the blood in the pleura were to putrefy, it would infallibly occasion

dangerous suppurative pleurisy). Why air introduced into the pleural

cavity through a wounded lung, should have such wholly different

effects from that entering directly through a wound in the chest, was

to me a complete mystery until I heard of the germ theory of

putrefaction, when it at once occurred to me that it was only natural

that air should be filtered of germs by the air-passages, one of whose

offices is to arrest inhaled particles of dust, and prevent them from

entering the air-cells.

*****

I shall have occasion to refer to this remarkable hypothesis farther

on.

The advocates of the germ theory, both of putrefaction and epidemic

disease, hold that both arise, not from the air, but from something

contained in the air. They hold, moreover, that this 'something' is

not a vapour nor a gas, nor indeed a molecule of any kind, but a

_particle_. [Footnote: As regards size, there is probably no sharp line

of division between molecules and particles; the one gradually shades

into the other. But the distinction that I would draw is this: the

atom or the molecule, if free, is always part of a gas, the particle

is never so. A particle is a bit of liquid or solid matter, formed by

the Aggregation of atoms or molecules.] The term 'particulate 'has

been used in the Reports of the Medical Department of the Privy

Council to describe this supposed constitution of contagious matter;

and Dr. Sanderson's experiments render it in the highest degree

probable, if they do not actually demonstrate, that the virus of

small-pox is 'particulate.' Definite knowledge upon this point is of

exceeding importance, because in the treatment of _particles_ methods

are available which it would be futile to apply to _molecules_.

The Luminous beam as a means of Research.

My own interference with this great question, while sanctioned by

eminent names, has been also an object of varied and ingenious attack.

On this point I will only say that when angry feeling escapes from

behind the intellect, where it may be useful as an urging force, and

places itself athwart the intellect, it is liable to produce all

manner of delusions. Thus my censors, for the most part, have

levelled their remarks against positions which were never assumed, and

against claims which were never made. The simple history of the

matter is this: During the autumn of 1868 I was much occupied with the

observations referred to at the beginning of this discourse, and in

part described in the preceding article. For fifteen years it had

been my habit to make use of floating dust to reveal the paths of

luminous beams through the air; but until 1868 I did not intentionally

reverse the process, and employ a luminous beam to reveal and examine

the dust. In a paper presented to the Royal Society in December, 1869,

the observations which induced me to give more special attention to

the question of spontaneous generation, and the germ theory of

epidemic disease, are thus described:

The Floating Matter of the Air.

Prior to the discovery of the foregoing action (the chemical action of

light upon vapours, Fragment IV.), and also during the experiments

just referred to, the nature of my work compelled me to aim at

obtaining experimental tubes absolutely clean upon the surface, and

absolutely free within from suspended matter. Neither condition is,

however, easily attained.

For however well the tubes might be washed and polished, and however

bright and pure they might appear in ordinary daylight, the electric

beam infallibly revealed signs and tokens of dirt. The air was always

present, and it was sure to deposit some impurity. All chemical

processes, not conducted in a vacuum, are open to this disturbance.

When the experimental tube was exhausted, it exhibited no trace of

floating matter, but on admitting the air through the U-tubes

(containing caustic potash and sulphuric acid), a _dust-cone_ more or

less distinct was always revealed by the powerfully condensed electric

beam.

The floating motes resembled minute particles of liquid which had been

carried mechanically from the U-tubes into the experimental tube.

Precautions were therefore taken to prevent any such transfer. They

produced little or no mitigation. I did not imagine, at the time,

that the dust of the external air could find such free passage through

the caustic potash and sulphuric acid. This, however, was the case;

the motes really came from without. They also passed with freedom

through a variety of aethers and alcohols. In fact, it requires

long-continued action on the part of an acid first to wet the motes

and afterwards to destroy them. By carefully passing the air through

the flame of a spirit lamp, or through a platinum tube heated to

bright redness, the floating matter was sensibly destroyed. It was

therefore combustible, in other words, organic, matter. I tried to

intercept it by a large respirator of cotton-wool. Close pressure was

necessary to render the wool effective. A plug of the wool, rammed

pretty tightly into the tube through which the air passed, was finally

found competent to hold back the motes. They appeared from time to

time afterwards, and gave me much trouble; but they were invariably

traced in the end to some defect in the purifying apparatus--to some

crack or flaw in the sealing-wax employed to render the tubes

air-tight. Thus through proper care, but not without a great deal of

searching out of disturbances, the experimental tube, even when filled

with air or vapour, contains nothing competent to scatter the light.

The space within it has the aspect of an absolute vacuum.

An experimental tube in this condition I call _optically empty_.

The simple apparatus employed in these experiments will be at once

understood by reference to a figure printed in the last article (Fig.

3.) s s' is the glass experimental tube, which has varied in length

from 1 to 5 feet, and which may be from 2 to 3 inches in diameter.

From the end s, the pipe pp' passes to an air-pump. Connected with

the other end s' we have the flask F, containing the liquid whose

vapour is to be examined; then follows a U-tube, T, filled with

fragments of clean glass, wetted with sulphuric acid; then a second

U-tube, T, containing fragments of marble, wetted with caustic potash;

and finally a narrow straight tube t t', containing a tolerably

tightly fitting plug of cotton-wool. To save the air-pump gauge from

the attack of such vapours as act on mercury, as also to facilitate

observation, a separate barometer tube was employed.

Through the cork which stops the flask F two glass tubes, a and b,

pass air-tight. The tube a ends immediately under the cork; the tube

b, on the contrary, descends to the bottom of the flask and dips into

the liquid. The end of the tube b is drawn out so as to render very

small the orifice through which the air escapes into the liquid.

The experimental tube s s' being exhausted, a cock at the end s' is

turned carefully on. The air passes slowly through the cotton-wool,

the caustic potash, and the sulphuric acid in succession. Thus

purified, it enters the flask F and bubbles through the liquid.

Charged with vapour, it finally passes into the experimental tube,

where it is submitted to examination. The electric lamp L placed at

the end of the experimental tube furnishes the necessary beam.

*****

The facts here forced upon my attention had a bearing too evident to

be overlooked. The inability of air which had been filtered through

cotton-wool to generate animalcular life, had been demonstrated by

Schroeder and Pasteur: here the cause of its impotence was rendered

evident to the eye. The experiment proved that no sensible amount of

light was scattered by the molecules of the air; that the scattered

light always arose from suspended particles; and the fact that the

removal of these abolished simultaneously the power of scattering

light and of originating life, obviously detached the life-originating

power from the air, and fixed it on something suspended in the air.

Gases of all kinds passed with freedom through the plug of

cotton-wool; hence the thing whose removal by the cotton-wool rendered

the gas impotent, could not itself have been matter in the gaseous

condition. It at once occurred to me that the retina, protected as it

was, in these experiments, from all extraneous light, might be

converted into a new and powerful instrument of demonstration in

relation to the germ theory.

But the observations also revealed the danger incurred in experiments

of this nature; showing that without an amount of care far beyond that

hitherto bestowed upon them, such experiments left the door open to

errors of the gravest description. It was especially manifest that

the chemical method employed by Schultze in his experiments, and so

often resorted to since, might lead to the most erroneous

consequences; that neither acids nor alkalies had the power of rapid

destruction hitherto ascribed to them. In short, the employment of

the luminous beam rendered evident the cause of success in experiments

rigidly conducted like those of Pasteur; while it made equally evident

the certainty of failure in experiments less severely carried out.

Dr. Bennett's Experiments.

But I do not wish to leave an assertion of this kind without

illustration. Take, then, the well-conceived experiments of Dr.

Hughes Bennett, described before the Royal Society of Surgeons in

Edinburgh on January 17, 1868. [Footnote: 'British Medical Journal,'

13, pt. ii. 1868.] Into flasks containing decoctions of

liquorice-root, hay, or tea, Dr. Bennett, by an ingenious method,

forced air. The air was driven through two U-tubes, the one

containing a solution of caustic potash, the other sulphuric acid.

'All the bent tubes were filled with fragments of pumice-stone to

break up the air, so as to prevent the possibility of any germs

passing through in the centre of bubbles.' The air also passed

through a Liebig's bulb containing sulphuric acid, and also through a

bulb containing gun-cotton.

It was only natural for Dr. Bennett to believe that his 'bent tubes'

entirely cut off the germs. Previous to the observations just

referred to, I also believed in their efficacy. But these

observations destroy any such notion. The gun-cotton, moreover, will

fail to arrest the whole of the floating matter, unless it is tightly

packed, and there is no indication in Dr. Bennett's memoir that it was

so packed. On the whole, I should infer, from the mere inspection of

Dr. Bennett's apparatus, the very results which he has described--a

retardation of the development of life, a total absence of it in some

cases, and its presence in others.

In his first series of experiments, eight flasks were fed with sifted

air, and five with common air. In ten or twelve days all the five had

fungi in them; whilst it required from four to nine months to develop

fungi in the others. In one of the eight, moreover, even after this

interval no fungi appeared. In a second series of experiments there

was a similar exception. In a third series the cork stoppers used in

the first and second series were abandoned, and glass stoppers

employed. Flasks containing decoctions of tea, beef, and hay were

filled with common air, and other flasks with sifted air. In every

one of the former fungi appeared and in not one of the latter. These

experiments simply ruin the doctrine that Dr. Bennett finally

espouses.

In all these negative cases, the prepared air was forced into the

infusion when it was boiling hot. Dr. Bennett made a fourth series of

experiments, in which, previous to forcing in the air, he permitted

the flasks to cool. Into four bottles thus treated he forced prepared

air, and after a time found fungi in all of them. What is his

conclusion? Not that the boiling hot liquid, employed in his first

experiments, had destroyed such germs as had run the gauntlet of his

apparatus; but that air which, previous to being sealed up, had been

exposed to a temperature of 212°, _is too rare to support life_. This

conclusion is so remarkable that it ought to be stated in Dr.

Bennett's own words. 'It may be easily conceived that air subjected

to a boiling temperature is so expanded as scarcely to merit the name

of air, and that it is more or less unfit for the purpose of

sustaining animal or vegetable life.'

Now numerical data are attainable here, and as a matter of fact I live

and flourish for a considerable portion of each year in a medium of

less density than that which Dr. Bennett describes as scarcely

meriting the name of air. The inhabitants of the higher Alpine

chalets, with their flocks and herds, and the grasses which support

these, do the same; while the chamois rears its kids in air rarer

still. Insect life, moreover, is sometimes exhibited with monstrous

prodigality at Alpine heights.

In a fifth series of experiments sixteen bottles were filled with

infusions. Into four of them, while cold, ordinary unheated and

unsifted air was pumped. In these four bottles fungi were developed.

Into four other bottles, containing a boiling infusion, ordinary air

was also pumped--no fungi were here developed. Into four other

bottles containing an infusion which had been boiled and permitted to

cool, sifted air was pumped--no fungi were developed. Finally, into

four bottles containing a boiling infusion sifted air was pumped no

fungi were developed. Only, therefore, in the four cases where the

infusions were cold infusions, and the air ordinary air, did fungi

appear.

Dr. Bennett does not draw from his experiments the conclusion to which

they so obviously point. On them, on the contrary, he founds a

defence of the doctrine of spontaneous generation, and a general

theory of spontaneous development. So strongly was he impressed with

the idea that the germs could not possibly pass through his potash and

sulphuric acid tubes, that the appearance of fungi, even in a small

minority of cases, where the air had been sent through these tubes,

was to him conclusive evidence of the spontaneous origin of such

fungi. And he accounts for the absence of life in many of his

experiments by an hypothesis which will not bear a moment's

examination. But, knowing that organic particles may pass unscathed

through alkalies and acids, the results of Dr. Bennett are precisely

what ought wider the circumstances to be expected. Indeed, their

harmony with the conditions now revealed is a proof of the honesty and

accuracy with which they were executed.

The caution exercised by Pasteur both in the execution of his

experiments, and in the reasoning based upon them, is perfectly

evident to those who, through the practice of severe experimental

enquiry, have rendered themselves competent to judge of good

experimental work. He found germs in the mercury used to isolate his

air. He was never sure that they did not cling to the instruments he

employed, or to his own person. Thus when he opened his hermetically

sealed flasks upon the Mer de Glace, he had his eye upon the file used

to detach the drawn-out necks of his bottles; and he was careful to

stand to leeward when each flask was opened. Using these precautions,

he found the glacier air incompetent, in nineteen cases out of twenty,

to generate life; while similar flasks, opened amid the vegetation of

the lowlands, were soon crowded with living things. M. Pouchet

repeated Pasteur's experiments in the Pyrenees, adopting the

precaution of holding his flasks above his head, and obtaining a

different result. Now great care would be needed to render this

procedure a real precaution. The luminous beam at once shows us its

possible effect. Let smoking brown paper be placed at the open mouth

of a glass shade, so that the smoke shall ascend and fill the shade. A

beam sent through the shade forms a bright track through the smoke.

When the closed fist is placed underneath the shade, a vertical wind

of surprising violence, considering the small elevation of

temperature, rises from the band, displacing by comparatively dark air

the illuminated smoke. Unless special care were taken such a wind

would rise from M. Pouchet's body as he held his flasks above his

head, and thus the precaution of Pasteur, of not coming between the

wind and the flask, would be annulled.

Fragments of Science: A Series of Detached Essays, Addresses, and Reviews. V. 1-2 · 第 11 / 69 段