The Bacillus
Had the learned Linnæus been informed that there existed a creature of which he had taken no account, which exercised a much larger influence upon the fortunes and happiness of man than any of those which he so laboriously arranged and classified, he would have smiled the smile of incredulity. But just as it is but within the present century that mankind has awoke to the enormous power and usefulness of steam and electricity, so it is only within the last ten or fifteen years that he has attained to the knowledge of the existence of the demon bacillus, who has sprung at a bound into the position of man’s deadliest enemy. Secretiveness must be assigned the first place among the characteristics of the bacillus. Since man first appeared upon earth this scourge must have carried on its deadly work, and heaped up a hecatomb of victims in comparison to which those who have perished by war or by famine are but an insignificant handful; and yet man has pursued his way in the blindest ignorance of the very existence of his indefatigable enemy.
Even yet comparatively few people are aware of the personal peculiarities of the bacillus, or could describe with any approach to accuracy the difference between the allied tribes, each of which represents some form or other of disease or death, and the scientific men who are so actively busying themselves in counteracting its work are very chary of describing its personal peculiarities. When these are more generally understood it will probably lead to a revolution in art. The artist of other days who wished to convey to the beholder that the personage depicted was in imminent peril of his life could find no better means of doing so than by placing behind him a shadowy figure with a death’s head and skeleton arms holding a dart. This childish representation can no longer be tolerated, and the artist of the future will have only to depict hovering over the principal figure a bacillus, and the beholder will at once understand not only that death is impending, but will be able to distinguish from the characteristics of the bacillus whether it will take the form of consumption, typhoid, small-pox, or other disease. This will be of vast utility in the painting of historical personages, as no questions can arise centuries later as to the cause of their death, the disease of which they died being clearly indicated by the accompanying bacillus, which, of course, will in future be appended to every posthumous portrait.
It is mortifying to human vanity to reflect that for some sixty centuries, at the shortest computation, man has been taking all sorts of pains to protect himself against minor dangers, in absolute ignorance of the bacillus fiend in his midst. Against the wild beast and the snake he has waged open warfare. He has covered himself with armour to protect himself from the weapons of human foes. He has furnished his ships with lifeboats, he has placed trap-doors in the roofs of his houses to afford an escape in case of fire, and has invented the safety lamp as a protection for those who work in mines. He has muzzled the dog in order to escape the fabulously remote risk of hydrophobia, and he has laid down strict regulations to diminish the chances of his being blown up by explosives. He has fenced himself in by sanitary regulations to preserve himself against the evil effect of foul smells, and has flattered himself that by these and many other precautions he has done what he could to ensure for himself prolonged life. And yet all this time the bacillus has been carrying on his work unsuspected, laughing, in whatever passes as his sleeve, as he yearly sweeps away his tens of millions of victims. It has, in fact, been a new and terrible illustration of the saying, “Out of sight, out of mind.” Proud man, who slays the whale for its oil, and the elephant for its ivory, has been slain by his invisible foe, the bacillus; and, like a soldier brought down by a long range bullet, has not even had the satisfaction of knowing who was his slayer.
The microscope has long since discovered to him the existence of innumerable creatures, invisible to the naked eye; he has learnt that the water he drank teemed with animated atoms; that many of the rocks were composed solely of their minute skeletons; that a layer of them reposed on the depth of ocean; that countless numbers of them were borne with the floating dust in the air. Some of these discoveries caused him wonder and admiration, others a certain sense of uneasiness and disgust; but when he discovered that neither he nor his ancestors had suffered any material inconvenience from imbibing these countless hosts in their drinks, or inhaling them in the atmosphere, he ceased to trouble himself about them, and went on his way regardless of their existence. The case has been wholly changed by the discovery of the bacillus, and man stands aghast alike at the terribly destructive and deadly nature of his foe, and at his own impotency to guard himself against its attacks. His feelings resemble those of the solitary traveller who finds that the forest through which he is passing is swarming with desperate and determined enemies, who are bent upon taking his life.
It needs no great powers of prevision to perceive that the discovery of the bacillus must lead to an enormous revolution in our methods of life. It is not man’s nature to submit passively to tyranny and oppression; and now that we are beginning to form some idea of the number and deadly nature of our foe, we shall assuredly embark upon a prolonged and desperate warfare with him. Inventors will, in the first place, devote all their energies to discovering a means of defence against his attacks. We may expect that just as our ancestors clad themselves in armour to protect themselves against human weapons, so in the future we shall wear some sort of covering, composed, perhaps, of extremely thin and flexible glass, to prevent the bacillus coming in contact with our skin; or we may paint ourselves on emerging from our baths with some compound which may be discovered to be lethal to him. The passages to our lungs will doubtless be defended by a respiratory apparatus that will filter him out of the air as it passes in. While thus we endeavour in every way to defend ourselves against his attacks, we shall take the offensive against him when he succeeds in eluding these precautions, and effecting an entrance. Unfortunately, at present the bacillus shows himself to be almost invulnerable; but, like Achilles, he has a weak spot in his heel. While able, so far as is at present known, to defy all drugs and poisons with which he can be attacked while dwelling in the human frame, he has none of the hardihood of the cannibal, and is unable to support a diet consisting of infusions of his own relations. A boiled decoction of his children or cousins is fatal to him. It is upon this line that our combat with him is likely, at any rate for a time, to be fought out.
This discovery has thrown a lurid light upon many ancient and Eastern legends. These have hitherto been entirely misunderstood or not understood at all. Saturn was, we know, to be destroyed by his children; and Arab stories abound with instances where princes and rulers having been warned that their offspring would be the cause of their death, the children were accordingly confined in towers and prisons to prevent the fulfilment of these prophecies. Hitherto, such tales have appeared mere fables, originating in human fancy; but it can now be seen that the Ancients and the Orientals alike had some kind of prevision of the bacillus, and that this creature was pre-figured in the legends of Saturn and of the Arabian rulers. This is another proof, were it needed, of the vast store of knowledge possessed in former times by the Orientals. It is impossible, at this early stage of the conflict between man and the bacillus, to form any very definite opinion as to the side with which victory will finally rest; but, judging from the past, there is good ground for belief that man will in the end come out conqueror. In legendary tales man, valiant, fearless, and determined, always proved himself the victor, though opposed by the invisible powers of the air; and from this we may gather much comfort. It is with invisible powers that this battle has to be waged; and summoning to our aid, as we are happily able to do, all the hidden powers of the good fairies, Chemistry and Electricity, we may venture confidently to hope for a final victory over the swarming legions of the bacillus.
The End