"Were the feelings of experimental physiologists not blunted, they could not long continue the practice of vivisection. They are always ready to repudiate any implied want of tender feeling, but I must say that they seldom show much pity; on the contrary, in practice they frequently show the reverse. Hundreds of times I have seen, when an animal writhed with pain and thereby deranged the tissues during a delicate dissection, instead of being soothed, it would receive a slap and an angry order to be quiet and behave itself. At other times, when an animal had endured great pain for hours without struggling or giving more than an occasional whine, instead of letting the poor mangled wretch loose to crawl about the place in reserve for another day's torture, it would receive pity so far that it would be said to have behaved well enough to merit death, and as a reward would be killed at once by breaking up the medulla with a needle, or 'pithing,' as this operation is called. I have often heard the professor say, when one side of an animal had been so mangled and the tissues so obscured by clotted blood that it was difficult to find the part searched for, 'Why don't you begin on the other side?' or 'WHY DON'T YOU TAKE ANOTHER DOG? WHAT IS THE USE OF BEING SO ECONOMICAL?' One of the most revolting features in the laboratory was the custom of giving an animal, on which the professor had completed his experiment, and which had still some life left, to the assistants to practise the finding of arteries, nerves, etc., in the living animal, or for performing what are called 'fundamental experiments' upon it—in other words, repeating those which are recommended in the laboratory handbooks.

"I am inclined to look upon anaesthetics as the greatest curse to vivisectible animals. They alter too much the normal conditions of life to give accurate results, and they are therefore little depended upon. THEY, INDEED, PROVE FAR MORE EFFICACIOUS IN LULLING PUBLIC FEELING TOWARDS THE VIVISECTORS THAN PAIN IN THE VIVISECTED. Connected with this there is a horrible proceeding that the public probably knows little about. An animal is sometimes kept quiet by the administration of a poison called 'curare,' which paralyzes voluntary motion while it heightens sensation, the animal being kept alive by means of artificial respiration.

"I hope that we shall soon have a Government inquiry into the subject, in which experimental physiologists shall be only witnesses, not judges. LET ALL PRIVATE VIVISECTION BE MADE CRIMINAL, AND ALL EXPERIMENTS BE PLACED UNDER GOVERNMENT INSPECTION, and we may have the same clearing away of abuses that the Anatomy Act caused in similar circumstances.

"I am, sir, your obedient servant, "George Hoggan, M.B. and C.M.

"13, Granville Place, Portman Square, W."

One of the oldest members of the medical profession in Massachusetts has also written of his experience in Be'rnard's laboratory, and his account of the cruelty there practised entirely accords with that of the English physician:

"When I was studying medicine in Paris, it was the custom of a distinguished physiologist to illustrate his lectures by operations on dogs. Some of his dissections were not very painful, but others were attended with excruciating, long-continued agony; and when the piteous cries of these poor brutes would interrupt his remarks, with a look of suppressed indignation he would artistically slit their windpipes, and thus prevent their howling! Curiousity prompted me to inquire of the janitor whether, after this period of torment, these creatures were mercifully put out of misery; and I ascertained that such animals as did not succumb to the immediate effects of their mutilations were consigned to a cellar, to be kept, unattended and unfed, until wanted for the following lectures, which occurred on alternate days. I never noticed the slightest demonstration of sympathy on their behalf, except on the part of a few American students. These dogs were subjected to needless torture, for the mere purpose of illustrating well-known facts, capable of being taught satisfactorily by drawings, charts, and models; and hence this cruelty, being unattended by any possible benefit to either students or mankind, was illegitimate and unjustifiable. But when it is considered that these same experiments might have been conducted under the influence of an anaesthetic, so as to minimize, if not remove, this needless suffering, this cold-blooded, heartless torture can only be characterized as contemptible and monstrous.

"From detailed accounts communicated to me by eye-witnesses of the incidents related, I entertain no doubt that barbarous cruelty was practised at that time in all the Parisian laboratories, though it is probable that, for novel and horrible experiments, none could rival the infernal ingenuity in this business of that master-demon, Claude Be'rnard."[1]

[1] Extracts from letter to Boston Medical and Surgical Journal, April, 1895.

Such is the memory which Be'rnard has left for posterity. It was by useless cruelty that he impressed. And no American physiologist, sounding the praises of free and unrestricted vivisection, has ever yet ventured to criticize or to condemn either the man or his work.

Let us go back a little. By the year 1871, the agitation had gone so far as to be deemed worthy of consideration by the leading scientific body in Great Britain. At the meeting of the British Association in Liverpool of that year, a committee was appointed to consider the subject of animal experimentation, and the result of their deliberations appears in the annual report. Regarding the practice, they suggest four recommendations or rules:

"1. No experiment which can be done under the influence of an anaesthetic ought to be done without it.

"2. No painful experiment is justifiable for the mere purpose of illustrating a law or fact already determined; in other words, experimentation without the employment of anaesthetics is not a fitting exhibition for teaching purposes."

A third rule suggested that painful experiments should only be made in laboratories under proper regulation; and a fourth rule condemned veterinary operations for the purpose of obtaining manual dexterity. It was evidently an attempt to allay agitation—there were no means of enforcing the recommendations concerning practices which the law did not touch.

One of the signers was Dr. Burdon Sanderson, a Lecturer on Physiology. Early the following year he began the delivery of a course of lectures in the physiological laboratory of University College in London, illustrated by vivisections. During one of these discourses, the lecturer made the following statement of his views:

"With respect to what are called 'vivisections,' I assure you that I have as great a horror of them as any members of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. The rules in respect to them are these: First, no experiment that can be done under the influence of an anaesthetic ought to be done without it. Secondly, no PAINFUL experiment is justifiable for the mere purpose of illustrating a law or fact already demonstrated. Thirdly, whenever for the investigation of new truth, it is necessary to make a painful experiment, every effort should be made to insure success, in order that the suffering inflicted may not be wasted. For the question of cruelty depends not on the amount of suffering, but on its relation to the good to be attained by it."[1]

[1] Medical Times and Gazette, February 25, 1871.

The lecturer contended that no experiment should be performed by an unskilled person with insufficient instruments, and argued, therefore, in favour of the establishment of Physiological Laboratories, equipped with all modern devices and instruments for vivisection.

Some of his demonstrations were doubtless unproductive of pain, but in view of the fact that in other experiments no anaesthetic was employed, it may be questioned whether his second "rule" was always very strictly observed. In one lecture he referred to his demonstration "as the first time that we have applied electrical stimulus to a nerve," and explains that when the experiment is made on an animal paralyzed with curare, the effect is more complicated when a sensory nerve is irritated, since then "the arteries all over the body contract, because the brain is in action."[1] No plainer confession of the existence of sensibility could be made, yet for obvious reasons the lecturer carefully avoids admitting the presence of pain. During the following year there appeared articles describing "the teaching of practical physiology in the London schools." At King's College in London, for example, demonstrations were made by the lecturer, but "experiments on animals are never given to the ordinary student to do; Professor Rutherford's experience on this point is that such attempts result only in total failure."[2] On the other hand, at University College, the Continental method of teaching was to be found. "Student perform experiments on animals. Frogs, curarized or chloroformed, are given them, and the experiment which has been fully explained and demonstrated by the professor, is performed by them as far as practicable."[3] Here, then, we find introduced into England (and perhaps there existing in secret for some time before), that vivisection of animals in illustration of well-known facts, which, but a few years earlier, every leading medical journal of Great Britain had so emphatically reprobated and denounced.

[1] Medical Times and Gazette, June 17, 1871. [2] Ibid., July 20, 1872. [3] Medical Times and Gazette, July 27, 1872.

The Continental school of English physiologists seemed confident of victory. But the leading exponents of English ideals in medicine were not inclined to surrender at once; now and then we find them vigorously maintaining their ground, and disposed to contrast the science gained in the laboratory with that gathered by experience and fortified by reflection. Some extracts from a leading editorial in the Medical Times and Gazette are extremely suggestive of the conflict of opinions:

"The relation of physiology to practical medicine is a subject which has been brought prominently into notice by the address of Dr. Burdon Sanderson ... at the recent meeting of the British Association. That address may be considered as the first authoritative and public announcement made in this country that IT IS THE AIM AND INTENTION OF THE PHYSIOLOGICAL SCHOOL OF THOUGHT and work to separate themselves more and more from the school of practical medicine; no longer to consider themselves auxiliary to it except as other sciences—for instance, chemistry and botany—may be considered auxiliary to it, but to win a place in the public estimation for their science as one which shall be cultivated FOR ITS OWN SAKE...

"The teaching of experience is more reliable than physiological theories and opinions.... The history of the advance of the cure of disease is in the history of empiricism, in the best sense of that much-abused word. The history of retrogression in the art of curing disease is that of the so-called Physiological Schools of Medicine... Physiological theory, based on experiments on dogs, wishes us to believe that mercury does not excite a flow of bile; but here the common sense of the Profession, educated by experience, has refused to be led by physiological theory.... Modern physiological science has taught us little more than the necessity of pure air, water, and food, good clothing and shelter, moderation in eating and drinking, and regulation of the passions—things, in fact, which are as old as the Pentateuch. We may safely assert that all the experiments made on luckless animals since the time of Magendie to the present, in France, America, Germany, and England, have not prolonged one tithe of human life, or diminished one tithe of the human suffering that have been prolonged and diminished by the discovery and use of Jesuits' bark and cod-liver oil."[1]

[1] Medical Times and Gazette (Editorial), September 7, 1872.

Early the next year (1873) was published the "Handbook of the Physiological Laboratory," compiled by leading men of the physiological party, among whom were Professors Sanderson, Foster, and Klein. Describing the method of performing various experiments upon animals, it included a particular account of some of the most excruciatingly painful of the vivisections practised abroad. So atrocious was one of the experiments thus described in this handbook for students that Professor Michael Foster, who wrote the description, afterward confessed that he had never seen or performed the experiment himself, partly "from horror of the pain." Reviewing the work, a medical journal justly declared that "the publication of this book marks an era in the history of physiology in England.... It shows THE PREDOMINANT INFLUENCE WHICH GERMANY NOW EXERCISES IN THIS DEPARTMENT OF SCIENCE."[1] A professor of physiology, Dr. Gamgee, about the same time, refers to the physiological laboratories of Edinburgh, Cambridge, and London, and the part they sustained "in what I may call the Revival of the study of experimental physiology in England."[2]

[1] Medical Times and Gazette, London, March 29, 1873. [2] Ibid., October 18, 1873.

Emboldened by continuing success, the advocates of Continental vivisection in England determined to advance yet another step. The annual meeting of the British Medical Association for 1874 was to be held that year in August in the city of Norwich. A French vivisector, Dr. Magnan, was invited to be present, and to perform in the presence of English medical men certain experiments upon dogs. On this occasion, however, the public demonstration of French methods of vivisection did not pass without protest; there was a scene; some of the physicians present—among them Dr. Tufnell, the President of the Royal College of Surgeons of Ireland, and Dr. Haughton of the medical school in Dublin, denounced the experiments at the time they were made as unjustifiably cruel. Public attention was beginning to be aroused; it was decided to test the question, whether such exhibitions were protected by English law, and a prosecution was instituted against some who had assisted in performing the experiments. Dr. Tufnell appeared to testify in regard to the cruelty of the exhibition, and Sir William Fergusson, surgeon to the Queen, who had only just retired from the presidency of the British Medical Association, not only stigmatized one of the experiments as "an act of cruelty," but declared that "such experiments would not be of the smallest possible benefit."[1] The magistrates decided that while the case was a very proper one to prosecute, yet the gentlemen named as defendants were not sufficiently proven to have taken part in the experiment. The decision was not unjust; the real offender was safe in his native land.

[1] British Medical Journal, December 12, 1874.

It is not my purpose to trace the course of the English agitation against vivisection, except as it may be seen in the medical literature of the time; but one cannot refer to this period without mention of the name of Frances Power Cobbe. In 1863, while in Italy, she had protested, and not in vain, against the cruelties of Professor Schiff in Florence. Taking up the question again in 1874, she devoted the remainder of her life to the advancement of her ideals of reform. It was to her zeal that in 1875 was founded the "Society for the Protection of Animals liable to Vivisection." At this period, then, three phases of opinion opposed one another; first, the antivivisectionists, who desired the total suppression by law of all animal experimentation; second, the physiological enthusiasts, few in number, but favourable to the introduction of the Continental irresponsibility, and eager to free vivisection from every semblance of restraint; and, thirdly, the great body of Englishmen and of the medical profession, whose views we have seen reflected in medical journals of the day. The popular attack upon all animal experimentation became so pressing that for a time the entire medical profession seemed to unite in its defence; and editorial space once filled with denunciation of vivisection in France was now given over to criticism of the antivivisectionists of England. Yet, even at this period, there appeared no repudiation of those humane principles, so long professed by English medical men. One leading journal, the Medical Times and Gazette, thus suggests that very oversight of vivisection which we are told is impossible:

"Just as the law demands that a teacher of anatomy should take out a licence, and be responsible for the bodies entrusted to him, so a teacher of physiology might be required to take out some such licence as regards the teaching of practical physiology. We have never been of those who advocate the wholesale performance of experiments by students, especially on the higher animals, if they are of such a kind as to require any degree of skill for their performance. When the medical public seemed bitten with what was called 'practical physiology,' many were ready to advocate the performance of all kinds of experiments on living animals by uninstructed students. Against this notion we were first to protest, as being at once cruel and worse than useless; for an experiment performed by bungling fingers is no experiment at all, but wanton cruelty."

After explaining his position in favour of scientific research, the editor refers to a recent discussion on vivisection in London:

"Dr. Walker declared that his desire was not to stop scientific research, but the abuses which were connected with it. In the first place, he would not allow vivisection to be practised by incompetent students. This was nothing but wanton and unrighteous cruelty. THEREFORE HE WOULD OBLIGE EACH VIVISECTOR TO OBTAIN LEGAL PERMISSION FROM COMPETENT AUTHORITY. Another abuse related to operations performed merely to demonstrate physiological phenomena already verified and established. Again, the number of animals vivisected was shamefully high. Persons unacquainted with physiological laboratories could form no idea of the lavish way in which animals were made to suffer days and weeks of anguish and acute pain. If the people knew of these sufferings, they would insist that the number of animals annually vivisected should be limited, and that no animal rearing its young should be experimented upon. Nor should it be allowable to operate on an animal more than once.... Lastly, every licensed vivisector should be obliged to send in an annual return, showing the number of vivisections performed, and the scientific results attained, which would prevent repeated operations with the same object. Nothing in any of these proposals, urged Dr. Walker, would interfere with the progress of science; they would simply stop the abuses which existed."[1]

[1] Medical Times and Gazette (Editorial), June 27, 1874.

In January, 1875, we find the London Lancet also suggesting legal supervision and restriction:

"We are utterly opposed to all repetition of experiments for the purpose of demonstrating established doctrines.... We believe an attempt might be made to institute something in the way of regulation and supervision. IT WOULD NOT BE DIFFICULT, FOR EXAMPLE, TO IMPOSE SUCH RESTRICTIONS ON THE PRACTICE OF THESE EXPERIMENTS as would effectually guard against their being undertaken by any but skilled persons, for adequate scientific objects."[2]

[2] The London Lancet (Editorial), January 2, 1875.

A month later the Lancet devotes its leading editorial to a discussion of the ethics of vivisection. After criticizing the position taken by the antivivisectionists, the writer says:

"On the other side, the discussion has been conducted as if it concerned physiologists alone, who were to be a law unto themselves, and each to do what might seem right in his own eyes; that the matter was one into which outsiders had no right whatever to intrude; in fact, that 'WHATEVER IS, IS RIGHT,' and so unquestionably right as to stand in no need of investigation or restriction. We have, from the first, striven to take a middle course, not because it was safe, but because it seemed to us the sound and true one. Without disguising the difficulties, we have nevertheless expressed our conviction that the subject was one about which it was impossible not to feel a sense of responsibility, and a desire to ascertain whether the line between necessary and unnecessary could be defined; and whether any attempt could be made to institute something in the way of regulation, supervision, or restriction, so as to secure that, while the ends of science were not defeated, the broad principles of Humanity and duty to the lower animals were observed. Animals have their rights every bit as much as man has his...."

Admitting the probable necessity of some repetition of experiments in research, the writer continues:

"It is for the purposes of instruction, however, that it becomes questionable whether and to what extent experiments of this kind should be performed. A chemical lecturer teaches well, in proportion to the clearness with which he can demonstrate the correctness of his statements by experiment, and there is no doubt it is the same with a Lecturer on Physiology. Some persons seem to regard the advance of knowledge as the whole duty of man, and they would perhaps consider experimentation as justifiable in the one case as in the other. We cannot so regard it, for the simple and sufficient reason (as it seems to us) that the element of Life and Sensibility being present in the one case and not in the other, carries a responsibility with it. We contend that in any case where certain phenomena are known to follow a given experiment, when the fact has been established by the separate and independent observation of many different persons, a lecturer is not justified in resorting to it FOR THE PURPOSE OF MERE DEMONSTRATION WHERE ITS PERFORMANCE INVOLVES SUFFERING TO THE ANIMAL."[1]

[1] The London Lancet, February 6, 1875.

It is an instructive and interesting fact that one of the first steps toward the legal regulation of vivisection in England was taken by scientific men. The Lancet of May 8, 1875, contains the following paragraph:

"Some eminent naturalists and physiologists, including Mr. Charles Darwin, Professor Huxley, Dr. Sharpey, and others, have been in communication with Members of both Houses of Parliament to arrange terms of a Bill which would prevent any unnecessary cruelty or abuse in experiments made on living animals for purposes of scientific discovery. It is understood that these negotiations have been successful, and that the Bill is likely to be taken charge of by Lord Cardwell in the House of Lords, and by Dr. Lyon Playfair in the House of Commons."

A week later, the Lancet gives an outline of the proposed Act:

"The Bill introduced by Dr. Lyon Playfair, Mr. Spencer Walpole, and Mr. Evelyn Ashley, 'To Prevent Abuse and Cruelty in Experiments on Animals, made for the Purpose of Scientific Discovery,' has been printed. It proposes to enact that painful experiments on living animals for scientific purposes shall be permissible on the following conditions:

"'That the animal shall first have been made insensible by the administration of anaesthetics or otherwise, during the whole course of such experiment; and that if the nature of the experiment be such as to seriously injure the animal, so as to cause it after-suffering, the animal shall be killed immediately on the termination of the experiment.

"'Experiments without the use of anaesthetics are also to be permissible provided the following conditions are complied with: That the experiment is made for the purpose of new scientific discovery and for no other purpose; and that insensibility cannot be produced without necessarily frustrating the object of the experiment; and that the animal should not be subject to any pain which is not necessary for the purpose of the experiment; and that the experiment be brought to an end as soon as practicable; and that if the nature of the experiment be such as to seriously injure the animal so as to cause it after-suffering, the animal shall be killed immediately on the termination of the experiment.

"'That a register of all experiments made without the use of anaesthetics shall be duly kept, and be returned in such form and at such times as one of Her Majesty's principal Secretaries of State may direct.

"'The Secretary of State is to be empowered to grant licences to persons provided with certificates signed by at least one of the following persons: the President of the Royal Society, the President of the Royal College of Surgeons or of the College of Physicians in London, Edinburgh, or Dublin; and also by a recognized Professor of Physiology, Medicine, or Anatomy.'"[1]

[1] Lancet, May 15, 1875.

The Bill, though introduced in Parliament, was not pressed. Another and more stringent measure for the regulation of vivisection had been introduced a few days earlier through the efforts of Miss Frances Power Cobbe and the Earl of Shaftesbury. In the conflict of opposing statements and opinions, the Government wisely concluded that more light on the subject was necessary, and a Royal Commission was appointed to investigate and report.

But if the Continental party was to conquer in England, its members undoubtedly felt that it must be through audacity quite as much by silence and secrecy. At the annual meeting of the British Medical Association, therefore, Professor William Rutherford delivered an address, wherein for the second time an English physiologist openly advocated the vivisection of animals as a method of teaching well- known facts. Commenting upon this address, the editor of the Lancet remarks:

"We confess that we think Dr. Rutherford presses his principle too far when he argues that, teaching by demonstration being the most successful method, we are thereby always warranted in having recourse to it. Physiology and chemistry are both experimental sciences. The chemical lecturer can have no hesitation in employing any number of experiments, or repeating them indefinitely to illustrate every step he takes; but we may fairly assume that the physiologist would be restrained by the thought that the materials with which he has to deal are not so much inert, lifeless matter, but sentient, living things. We hold, therefore, that it would be both unnecessary and cruel to demonstrate every physiological truth by experiment, or to repeat indefinitely the same experiment, simply because by such demonstrations the lecturer could make his teaching more definite, precise, and valuable."[1]

[1] The London Lancet, (Editorial) August 21, 1875.

Again, somewhat later the same journal brings into prominence one of the greatest difficulties attending all discussion of vivisection—the lack of agreement upon the meaning of words:

"It is extremely difficult to get at the exact meaning of the terms used. The physiologist would be ready to declare his utter abhorrence of all 'cruelty,' BUT THEN HE WOULD HAVE HIS OWN DEFINITION OF THE WORD. We hope Sir William Thompson was not justified in stating that revolting cruelties are sometimes practised in this country, in the name of vivisection, although we may concur with him in reprehending the performance of experiments on animals in illustration of truths already ascertained.... When the Cardinal (Manning) laid it down as the expression of a great moral obligation that we had no right to inflict NEEDLESS pain, he begged the whole question. By all means lay down and enforce any restriction that will prevent the infliction of NEEDLESS pain."[1]

[1] The London Lancet (Editorial), March 25, 1876.

We see how valueless, therefore, is the assertion so frequently made in this country that "no NEEDLESS pain is ever inflicted." The physiologist has his own interpretation of the word.

The testimony given before the Royal Commission was of utmost value. Leading members of the medical profession, such as Sir Thomas Watson, physician to the Queen, and Sir William Fergusson, surgeon to the Queen, gave evidence against the unrestricted practice of animal experimentation. Physiologists after the Continental school stated their side of the controversy, usually with significant caution; but one of them, Dr. Emanuel Klein, with an honest frankness of confession that astounded his friends, made himself for ever famous in the history of the vivisection controversy. It is hardly accurate to say that no cruelty was uncovered by the Royal Commission. Everything depends on the meaning of words, but the evidence of one of the most noted of English physiologists as to his own personal practices in vivisection was quite sufficient to justify the legislation that ensued. How seriously this evidence was regarded at the time is clearly shown in an extract from a confidential letter of Professor Huxley to Mr. Darwin, dated October 30, 1875:

"This Commission is playing the deuce with me. I have felt it my duty to act as counsel for Science, and was well satisfied with the way things are going. But on Thursday, when I was absent, —- was examined; and if what I hear is a correct account of the evidence he gave, I might as well throw up my brief. I am told he openly professed the most entire indifference to animal suffering, and he only gave anaesthetics to keep the animals quiet!

"I declare to you, I did not believe the man lived who was such an unmitigated, cynical brute as to profess and act upon such principles, and I would willingly agree to any law that would send him to the treadmill.

"The impression his evidence made on Cardwell and Foster is profound, and I am powerless (even if I desire, which I have not) to combat it."[1]

[1] Huxley's "Life and Letters," vol i., p. 473. This characterization seems by no means fair, and probably it would have been so regarded by the writer in calmer moments. Is indignation chiefly directed to the "indifference to animal suffering," or to the "OPEN PROFESSION" of the feeling? For men, perfectly familiar with Continental indifference, to condemn with holy horror a young physiologist because he "openly professes" the generally prevalent sentiment of his class, is very suggestive.

The result of the Commission's report was the introduction by the Government of a Bill placing animal experimentation in Greta Britain under legal supervision and control. As first drawn up, it appears to have been regarded by the medical profession as unduly stringent and unfair. Protests were made, amendments of certain of its provisions were requested, concessions were granted, and at the close of the Parliamentary session, August 15, 1876, the practice of vivisection, like the study of human anatomy by dissection, came under the supervision of English law.

It is curious to observe how those who had vehemently opposed the Act were able to approve it when once the law was in operation, and criticism could no longer serve any purpose of delay. The British Medical Journal of August 19, 1876, announcing to its readers the passage of the Bill, says:

"Taking the measure altogether, we think the profession may be congratulated on its having passed.... So far, the Act facilitates the prosecution of science by competent persons, while it protects animals from the cruelty which might be inflicted by ignorant and unskilful hands. THE ACT IS A GREAT STEP IN ADVANCE TOWARD PROMOTING KINDNESS TO ANIMALS GENERALLY...."

The Medical Times and Gazette also regained its equanimity, and an editorial referring to the Act admits that "the profession may regard it without much dissatisfaction."[1] There are even advantages to be discerned:

"It gives scientific inquirers the protection of the law; it protects animals from cruelties which might be inflicted by unscientific and unskilled persons, and it satisfies to a great extent a demand made by a hypersensitive ... portion of the public."

[1] December 30, 1876.

Nor did further experience with the working of the Act appear greatly to disturb this favourable impression. For instance, after the law had been in operation nearly three years, the London Lancet in its issue of July 19, 1879, editorially remarked:

"There is no reason to regret the Act of 1876 which limits vivisection, except on the ground that it places the interests of science at the arbitration of a lay authority.... MEANWHILE, THE ACT WORKS WELL, AND FULFILLS ITS PURPOSE."

There can be no doubt, however, that the law has always been regarded with marked disfavour by the extreme vivisectionists of Great Britain. They had planned, as we can see, to introduce in the United Kingdom the freedom of vivisection which obtained on the Continent. They had failed, and instead of liberty to imitate Be'rnard, Magendie, and Brown-Se'quard, they saw between them and the absolute power they had craved and dreamed of obtaining, the majesty of English law. Among American representatives of the same school—the strenuous opponents of all legal supervision—it has been the fashion on every possible occasion to cast discredit upon this Act. For obvious reasons they have sought to represent it to the American public as having proven a serious detriment to medical science and an obstruction to medical advancement. The idea is absurd. English physicians and surgeons are as well educated and equipped in every respect as are the graduates of American schools. The complete refutation of all such misstatements regarding the effect of the English law will be found elsewhere. The Act is far from being an ideal law—it is capable of amendment in many respects—but it is an evidence of the acceptance by the English people of the principle of State regulation, and of their wish that between the will of the vivisector and the irresponsible and unlimited torment of the victim, there hall be some power capable, if it so desires, of making effective intervention.

CHAPTER IX

THE GREAT PROTESTANT AGAINST VIVISECTION CRUELTY

Among the critics of unlimited vivisection one American name of the present century stands pre-eminently above all others, not only for emphasis of denunciation, for vigour of condemnation, for clear distinctions between right and wrong, but also for the distinguished position which the writer held. Forty years ago in the medical profession of the United States no name stood higher than that of Dr. Henry J. Bigelow, the professor of surgery in Harvard University. To estimate the value of his criticism it is necessary to outline his career.

He was born in Boston, March 11, 1818, his father being Dr. Jacob Bigelow, one of the leading physicians of his day. After completing his medical education in America, young Bigelow went abroad, and spent nearly three years studying in the great hospitals of Paris. It was at a period when the cruel vivisections of Magendie and his contemporaries had become the scandal of civilization, and there can be no doubt that Dr. Bigelow witnessed every phase of vivisection that his sensibilities permitted him to observe.

Returning to Boston in 1844, the young surgeon rapidly attained a prominent position. In January, 1846, before he had completed his twenty-eighth year, he was appointed visiting surgeon of the Massachusetts General Hospital. Here on November 7, 1846, there occurred one of the greatest historic events—the first surgical operation in which insensibility to pain was secured by the inhalation of ether. Dr. Bigelow's enthusiasm for the new discovery was very great, and it has been said that to him "the world was indebted for the introduction of anaesthesia in surgery at the exact time in which it occurred."

Dr. Bigelow was surgeon to the Massachusetts General Hospital from 1846 to 1886—a period of forty years. He was professor of surgery in Harvard University from 1849 to 1882, or a third of a century. When he resigned the latter position, President Eliot in his annual report referred to him as "a discoverer and inventor of world-wide reputation, a brilliant surgical operator, a natural leader of men." The faculty of Harvard Medical School also spoke of him as one "who had done so much to render this school conspicuous and to make American surgery illustrious throughout the world." This is high praise. Let it be remembered in reading his opinions concerning vivisection.

An abhorrence of pain was a marked trait in Dr. Bigelow's character. Even to the infliction of necessary suffering he had an extreme dislike. His gentleness to animals was akin to his tenderness for children. He had a great respect for their intelligence, their affection, their confidence in mankind. Toward the close of life he had among his pets a number of the little animals most closely related to human beings, and therefore the most-prized "material" of the vivisector. But such was Dr. Bigelow's sympathy with his little friends that he disliked to take visitors into their presence, and when he did, always cautioned them to assume a smiling face. He was unwilling to give his pets even the mental suffering of anxiety or fear.

He died October 30, 1890, at the ripe age of seventy-two. It was Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes, himself illustrious in science and in literature, who referred to the name of Dr. Henry J. Bigelow as "one of the brightest in the annals of American surgery, not to claim for it A STILL HIGHER PLACE IN THE HISTORY OF THE HEALING ART."

Such a tribute was well deserved. His was the most eminent name in the annals of American surgery. It was from this man, occupying such a position in the medical profession, that we have one of the strongest protests, one of the clearest, most discriminating, and emphatic criticisms of unregulated and unrestricted vivisection that the world has known. It is particularly valuable, because Dr. Bigelow was never an antivivisectionist, if by that term we mean one who is opposed to all experiments upon animals. But there are things done in the name of Science which he utterly repudiated and condemned as cruelty, and against which he made a protest that should never be forgotten until the evil shall be condemned by the universal judgment of mankind.

It is probable that Dr. Bigelow's first protest against the abuses of vivisection was in course of an address delivered before the Massachusetts Medical Society in 1871. It is not difficult, perhaps, to detect the reason for its utterance. Dr. H. P. Bowditch, for very many years afterward the professor of physiology in Harvard Medical School, graduated in 1868 from that institution, and went abroad to study physiology in Europe. There he remained about three years, and on his return in 1871 he was given the opportunity of introducing laboratory methods and all the newer processes of experimentation into Harvard Medical School. Now, the address from which the following extracts are taken was delivered on May 7, 1871. Perhaps the inference is not an unreasonable one that Dr. Bigelow was here protesting, and protesting in vain, against the introduction in America of those methods of vivisection which he always regarded with abhorrence and detestation.

In this address he says:

"The teacher of the art of healing has no more right to employ the time of the ignorant student disproportionately in the pleasant and seductive paths of laboratory experimentation—because some of these may one day lead to pathology or therapeutics—than a guardian has to invest the money of his ward in stocks or securities of equally uncertain prospective value to him.

"How few facts of immediate considerable value to our race have of late years been extorted from the dreadful sufferings of dumb animals, the cold-blooded cruelties now more and more practised under the authority of science!

"The horrors of vivisection have supplanted the solemnity, the thrilling fascination of the old unetherized operation upon the human sufferer. Their recorded phenomena, stored away by the physiological inquisitor on dusty shelves, are mostly of as little present value to man as the knowledge of a new comet or of a tungstate of zirconium, perhaps to be confuted the next year, perhaps to remain a fixed truth of immediate value,— ... CONTEMPTIBLY SMALL COMPARED WITH THE PRICE PAID FOR IT IN AGONY AND TORTURE.

"For every inch cut by one of these experimenters in the quivering tissues of the helpless dog or rabbit or guinea-pig, let him insert a lancet one-eighth of an inch into his own skin, and for every inch more he cuts let him advance the lancet another one-eight of an inch; and whenever he seizes, with ragged forceps, a nerve or spinal marrow, the seat of all that is concentrated and exquisite in agony, or literally tears out nerves by their roots, let him cut only one-eight of an inch farther—and he may have some faint suggestion of the atrocity he is perpetrating when the guinea-pig shrieks, the poor dog yells, the noble horse groans and strains—the heartless vivisector perhaps resenting the struggle which annoys him.

"My heart sickens as I recall the spectacle at Alfort in former times, of a wretched horse—one of many hundreds, broken with age and disease resulting from life-long and honest devotion to man's service—bound upon the floor, his skin scored with a knife like a gridiron, his eyes and ears cut out, his arteries laid bare, his nerves exposed and pinched and severed, his hoofs pared to the quick, and every conceivable and fiendish torture inflicted upon him, while he groaned and gasped, his life carefully preserved under this continued and hellish torment from early morning until afternoon, for the purpose, as was avowed, of familiarizing the pupil with the frenzied motions of the animal. This was surgical vivisection on a little larger scale, AND TRANSCENDED BUT LITTLE THE SCENES IN A PHYSIOLOGICAL LABORATORY. I have heard it said that somebody must do it. I say it is needless. NOBODY SHOULD DO IT. WATCH THE STUDENTS AT A VIVISECTION; IT IS THE BLOOD AND SUFFERING, not the science, that rivet their breathless attention. If hospital service makes young students less tender of suffering, vivisection deadens their humanity, and begets indifference to it."

Let us pause for a moment. These are words of great import. They are as true to-day as when first uttered. Who was the speaker? The most eminent surgeon in America in his day. He was professor of surgery in Harvard University, and the leading member of its faculty. He was the surgeon of the Massachusetts General Hospital. He had seen the first surgical operation under complete anaesthesia that the world had known. Learned societies in Paris, in London, in other countries of Europe, were proud to number him among their members. He had reached the age of assured eminence, where all fear of opposing influences that might disastrously affect the medical career of a younger man, had no weight. Surely, if any living man can speak with authority, he speaks now.

And before whom does he speak? He is not addressing a general audience. It is a meeting of the Massachusetts Medical Society, an association of the physicians and surgeons of that Commonwealth. Some of them had also seen vivisection as practised in Paris and Leipsic. Here was a man at the head of their profession protesting against the introduction of the vivisection laboratory system in his own country.

He insists over and over again that we cannot tell the degree of agony inflicted by experiments upon the nervous system, nor measure its intensity:

"Who can say whether a guinea-pig, the pinching of whose carefully sensitized neck throws him into convulsions, attains this blessed momentary respite of insensibility by an unexplained special machinery of the nervous currents, OR A SENSIBILITY TOO EXQUISITELY ACUTE FOR ANIMAL ENDURANCE? Better that I or my friend should die than protract existence through accumulated years of torture upon animals whose exquisite suffering we cannot fail to infer, even though they may have neither voice nor feature to express it."

It is not the fact of suffering, but the useless waste of suffering that chiefly repels him:

"If a skilfully constructed hypothesis could be elaborated up to the point of experimental test by the most accomplished and successful philosopher, and if then a single experiment, though cruel, would forever settle it, we might reluctantly admit that it was justified. But the instincts of our common humanity indignantly remonstrate against the testing of clumsy or unimportant hypotheses by prodigal experimentation, or MAKING THE TORTURE OF ANIMALS AN EXHIBITION TO ENLARGE A MEDICAL SCHOOL, or for the entertainment of students—not one in fifty of whom can turn it to any profitable account. The limit of such physiological experiment, in its utmost latitude, should be to establish truth in the hands of a skilful experimenter, and not to demonstrate it to ignorant classes and encourage them to repeat it."

One cannot but remark the clear distinction of views which these words indicate. No antivivisectionist would accept the suggestion of a single experiment. Dr. Bigelow is speaking as a restrictionist against the free and unlimited vivisection which he rightly foresaw was about to be introduced into this country, and which has become the practice of the present day. He realizes that if once the laboratory system gains a foothold in his own college, the system will spread throughout America:

"The reaction which follows every excess will in time bear indignantly upon this. Until then it is dreadful to think how many poor animals will be subjected to excruciating agony as one medical college after another becomes penetrated with the idea that vivisection is a part of modern teaching, and that, to hold way with other institutions, they, too, must have their vivisector, their mutilated dogs, their guinea- pigs, their rabbits, their chamber of torture and of horrors, to advertise as a laboratory."

Nor this the only expression of Dr. Bigelow's opinions. In his work on "Surgical Anaesthesia," he left on record an even stronger condemnation of the abuses of vivisection and the cruelties which pertain to it. As he quotes from Stanley's "In Darkest Africa," which was published in 1890, it is evident that it represents his mature and settled judgment, down to the very close of his long and distinguished career. In this work he says:

"There can be no question that the discussion of vivisection arouses antagonistic human instincts. It is no common subject which enlists such earnest and opposite opinions. That there is something wrong about it is evident from the way in which the reputation of inflicting its torture is disclaimed. That for some reason it is a fascinating pursuit is equally evident from the bitter contest made for the right to practise it.

"There is little in the literature of what is called the 'horrors of vivisection' which is not well grounded on truth. For a description of the pain inflicted, I refer to that literature, only reiterating that what it recounts is largely and simply fact, selected, it may be, but rarely exaggerated.

"Vivisection is not an innocent study. We may usefully popularize chemistry and electricity, their teaching and their experimentation, even if only as one way of cultivating human powers. But not so with painful vivisection. We may not move as freely in this direction, for there are distinct reasons against it. It can be indiscriminately pursued only by torturing animals; and the word 'torture' is here intentionally used to convey the idea of very severe pain—sometimes the severest conceivable pain, of indefinite duration, often terminating, fortunately for the animal, with its life, but as often only after hours or days of refined infliction, continuously or at intervals."

It is here that Dr. Bigelow differs radically from the advocates of free vivisection. To them there appears no reason why the science of physiology should not "move as freely" in experimentation as the sciences pertaining to any other subject. The closed laboratory evinces the desire and intention to "move freely," without criticism or restraint.

No physician in America of Dr. Bigelow's eminence has ever stated so distinctly the fact of torment in vivisection, and the reasons for its condemnation:

"A man about to be burned under a railroad car begs somebody to kill him; the Hindoo suttee has been abolished for its inhumanity; and yet it is a statement to be taken literally that a brief death by burning would be considered a happy release by a human being undergoing the experience of some of the animals who slowly die in a laboratory. Scientific vivisection has all the engrossing fascination of other physical sciences, BUT THE TRANSCENDENT TORTURE SOMETIMES INFLICTED HAS NO PARALLEL IN ANY OF THEM. As to its extent, we read that in course of ten years seventeen thousand dogs were dissected alive in one laboratory."

Why, then, does not a universal protest arise against such infamous cruelty? On this point Dr. Bigelow is very frank. It is because of the confidence which the general public places in the average scientist. Is he deserving of that implicit faith? Dr. Bigelow does not think so. He says:

"The difficulty is that the community, for want of time or opportunity themselves to investigate the subject, ARE WILLING TO RELY UPON THE DISCRETION OF SCIENTIFIC MEN. This is an error.... A recent distinguished writer, a good judge of men, makes the following observation: 'Who can say why the votaries of science, though eminently kind in their social relations, are so angular of character? In my analysis of the scientific nature, I am constrained to associate with it (as compared with that of men who are more Christians than scientists) A CERTAIN HARDNESS, OR RATHER INDELICACY OF FEELING. They strike me as being ... coolly indifferent to the warmer human feelings.'[1]

[1] Sir Henry M. Stanley, "In Darkest Africa."

"It should not for a moment be supposed that cultivation of the intellect leads a man to shrink from inflicting pain. Many educated men are no more humane—are, in fact, far less so—than many comparatively uneducated people.... The more eminent the vivisectionist, the more indifferent he usually is to inflicting pain; however cultivated his intellect, he is sometimes absolutely indifferent to it....

"But in order to oppose vivisection to best advantage, and especially lest he should place himself in a false position, the anti- vivisectionist should bear clearly in mind that what he opposes is PAINFUL vivisection only. For there have been wholly painless experiments upon living animals which have led to useful results. Some of the greatest discoveries in medical science were made with no pain whatever.... And yet they have been often and sophistically cited by the vivisector as plausible arguments for inflicting both excessive and useless pain. The fact that a few able men have made discoveries by certain painless experiments upon animals is used to justify the demonstration of torture to medical students (to whom it is as profitless as any medical information can be), and its practice by them. The discovery of anaesthesia has been time and again quoted in favour of vivisection. THIS IS SIMPLY PREPOSTEROUS. In making that discovery, the experiments from the beginning were painless, and were therefore wholly unobjectionable—as I happen to know, having seen the first of them. The same is true of Jenner's vaccination, which was a wholly painless discovery. Little pain was involved in all that was needed to discover the circulation of the blood, which was inferred from the valvular construction of the veins, and then easily substantiated.... The greatest prizes in the lottery of physiological and pathological discovery have involved little or no pain. But the usual and staple work of a so-called 'laboratory of vivisection, physiology or pathology,' for the education and practice of medical students in the unrestricted cutting of living animals, and for the indiscriminate and endless repetition of experiments already tried, where a live dog can be bought and its living nerves dissected, ... all this is a very different affair. A distinguished vivisector once remarked: 'To us, pain is nothing.' When it is remembered that this pain may be, and sometimes intentionally is, of the most excruciating nature possible for human science to invent, and that in a large majority of instances it is to little or no purpose, the remark of this vivisector covers the objectionable ground."

In view of the foregoing quotations, it would appear almost impossible for Dr. Bigelow's position to be misrepresented or misunderstood. He cannot be regarded as an antivivisectionist, for he repeatedly states that to painless experiments upon animals no objection exists. But of the reality of the torment, and of the blunted sensibility of the professional tormenter, he seems to have no doubt. How may reform be promoted? By legal supervision and regulation. A few further extracts from Dr. Bigelow's writings will bring these points into prominence:

"There can be no question that the practice of vivisection HARDENS THE SENSIBILITY OF THE OPERATOR, and begets indifference to the infliction of pain, as well as great carelessness in judging of its severity.

"Indeed, vivisection will always be the better for vigilant supervision, and for whatever outside pressure can be brought to bear against it. Such pressure will never be too great, nor will it retard progress a hair's-breadth in the hands of that very limited class who are likely materially to advance knowledge by its practice.

"The ground for public supervision is that vivisection, immeasurably beyond any other pursuit, involves the infliction of torture to little or no purpose. Motive apart, painful vivisection differs from that usual cruelty of which the law takes absolute cognizance mainly in being practised by an educated class, who having once become callous to its objectionable features, find its pursuit an interesting occupation under the name of science. In short, though vivisection, like slavery, may embrace within its practice what is unobjectionable, what is useful, what is humane, and even what is commendable, it may also cover what is nothing less than hideous. I use this word in no sensational sense, and appeal to those who are familiar with some of the work in laboratories and out of them to endorse it as appropriate in this connection....

"'But burning was useless, while vivisection is profitable.' Here we reach the kernel of the argument of the pain-inflicting vivisector. The reply is that by far the larger part of vivisection is as useless as was an auto da fe'. It does not lead to discovery. The character of the minds of most of those who usually practise it makes this hardly a possibility. Real discoverers are of a different texture of mind, which you cannot create by schools; nor can you retard their progress by restrictions, put on all you may. But restrictions will and should cut off THE HORDE OF DULL TORTURERS WHO FOLLOW IN THE WAKE OF THE DISCOVERER, actuated by a dozen different motives, from a desire for research down to the wish to gratify a teacher or to comply with a school requisition."

How carefully and how clearly the writer has phrased his distinctions between what in vivisection is right and wrong! In all the literature of advocacy for free and unrestricted vivisection can we find anything resembling it? Certainly, I know no writer favourable to unlimited experimentation who has been equally fair. One surgical vivisectionist is fond of dividing the class interested in discussion of vivisection as "Friends of Research," and "Foes of Research," ascribing to the first all the virtues of good sense, and to the latter all the folly that belongs to ignorance. In which class, we may well wonder, would he place the first American surgeon of his time because he objected only to cruelty and abuse?

To Dr. Bigelow the legal supervision of the laboratory seemed the one practical method by which cruelty might be somewhat restrained, because in this way he believed the public would obtain some knowledge of the practice which is now withheld. He says:

"In order that painful vivisection may be as nearly as possible suppressed, not only by public opinion, but by law, IT IS ESSENTIAL THAT PUBLIC OPINION SHOULD BE FREQUENTLY INFORMED OF WHAT IT IS AND MAY BE. Here lies the work of the antivivisectionist. Further, every laboratory ought to be open to some supervising legal authority competent to determine that it is conducted from roof to cellar on the humanest principles, in default of which it should be, as slavery has been, uncompromisingly prohibited wherever law can accomplish this result."

Is the cruelty of unrestricted and unregulated vivisection a reality or a myth? Of his own views on this question we can have no doubt. He says:

"A TORTURE OF HELPLESS ANIMALS—MORE TERRIBLE BY REASON OF ITS REFINEMENT AND THE EFFORT TO PROLONG IT THAN BURNING AT THE STAKE, WHICH IS BRIEF—IS NOW BEING CARRIED ON IN ALL CIVILIZED NATIONS, NOT IN THE NAME OF RELIGION, BUT OF SCIENCE."

—————————-

"The law should interfere. There can be no doubt that in this relation there exists a case of cruelty to animals far transcending in its refinement and in its horror anything that has been known in the history of Nations.

"There will come a time when the world will look back to modern vivisection in the name of Science, as they do now to burning at the stake in the name of Religion."

Concerning vivisection, then, the views of one of the most eminent surgeons that America has produced may be summed up as follows:

FIRST. He is not favourable to antivivisection, but to restriction. "There is no objection to vivisection except the physical pain."

SECOND. The cruelties which pertain to certain vivisections and vivisectors are not myth, but realities. For a description of these cruelties, Dr. Bigelow expressly refers to the literature of protest.

THIRD. In defence of vivisection or of unrestricted experimentation, he says that UNTRUTHFUL CLAIMS OF UTILITY have been made.

FOURTH. The reasons for inflicting prolonged torment upon animals are wholly inadequate for its justification.

FIFTH. Vivisection has a hardening tendency upon its practitioners. The more eminent the vivisector, the more indifferent he may become to the infliction of torment.

SIXTH. There is ample reason for the interference of the law. Every laboratory should be legally supervised. Public opinion should be frequently informed concerning vivisection, its objects, and its methods.

I have presented these opinions at length because they represent exactly the position which I have personally maintained for over thirty years. And if the time shall come, foreseen by him, "when the world will look back to modern vivisection in the name of Science, as we now do to burning at the stake in the name of Religion," then, surely, it will be remembered that the first strong voice in America raised, not in condemnation of all experimentation upon animals, but solely in protest against its cruelty and secrecy, and in appeal for its reform, was that of the leading American surgeon of his time, Professor Henry J. Bigelow of Harvard University.

CHAPTER X

THE REPORT OF THE ROYAL COMMISSION ON VIVISECTION

In the year 1906, a Royal Commission was appointed by King Edward to investigate the practice of animal experimentation. Thirty years had passed since the appearance of the earlier inquiry, upon which was based the English law regulating the practice of such experiments. On the one hand, it had been denounced as affording most inadequate protection to animals liable to such exploitation; on the other hand, in the United States it had been condemned as a hindrance to scientific progress, and a warning against any similar legislation. A new Commission was therefore appointed to inquire into the practice, to take evidence, and to report what changes, if any, in the existing statute might seem advisable.

The composition of the new Commission leaned heavily toward the laboratory. It included no opponent to all vivisection. On the other hand, three of the Commissioners at one time or another had held a licence to vivisect, and one of them seems to have held this permission for some fourteen years. The Commission also included among its members the permanent Under-Secretary to the Government—an official whose acts had again and again been arraigned, and were soon to be challenged once more. The unusual spectacle was therefore to be presented of men sitting in judgment upon themselves. One of the Commissioners—Dr. George Wilson, well known for his work regarding the public health—had at various times questioned the conclusions of certain experimenters, but he was not opposed to all research upon animal life. From a Commission so constituted, we might have expected as the final result of their labours a report favourable to the interests of the laboratory, to marked modifications of the existing law by a lessened stringency of inspection, to relaxation of restrictions, and to an endorsement of every claim of utility which the experimenters should put forth.

Such an outcome of the deliberations of the Royal Commission must have seemed to American vivisectors almost a certainty. During the past twenty years, repeated attempts have been made in New York, in Massachusetts, in Pennsylvania, and in the city of Washington, to obtain some legislation regulating the practice of animal experimentation to the extent which obtains in England. At "hearings" before various legislative and Senate Committees, all such attempts have been vigorously combated by representatives and defenders of the physiological laboratories, and their strongest argument has always been the exceedingly detrimental effect of the English Act of 1876 both upon medical education and upon the progress of medical science. Professor Bowditch once said:

"The amount of mischief which may be produced by the English law depends very much on the good judgment of the Home Secretary.... In general, it may be said that the system of licensing and Government inspection is UNDER THE MOST FAVOURABLE CONDITIONS a source of serious annoyance to investigation."

We shall have reason hereafter to see the inaccuracy of this statement, so far as may be evinced by the opinions of English physiologists and teachers.

Upon the secrecy now maintained in English laboratories, a vivid light is thrown by the evidence given before the Commission. Quite as strong as in America have been the precautions taken in England to prevent any knowledge of the methods of vivisection from coming before the general public except through the assertions of the experimenters themselves. In America, where we have no legal limitations to experimentation, such secrecy occasions no surprise; but that in England the laboratory had secured so complete a degree of security from criticism by concealment of that which we are told needs no concealment gives reason for questionings. One of the Government inspectors—a Dr. Thane—insists that although a physiological laboratory is open to the visits of medical students at any time, it would hardly be possible to permit a similar privilege to physicians not in sympathy with experimentation. "I see no way of doing it," he declares. He does not seem to be certain that one of the Royal Commissioners before whom he was giving evidence could be admitted. Dr. George Wilson asks him the question in regard to seeing the various operations which are open to medical students. "I can go and see them? I suppose I would have no difficulty?" Dr. Thane's reply was by no means assuring. "I do not see how it could be done," he replied. He could not see how one of the most distinguished physicians of England could secure the legal right of admission to a physiological laboratory!

Some of the evidence given regarding this point seems a little suggestive of a willingness to mislead a thoughtless questioner. Was there any wish to give an impression that the secrecy of the laboratory did not exist? One of the Government inspectors—Sir James Russell—informed the Commissioners that HE never had any difficulty in getting into laboratories. "I simply walk into them, and have always found the doors open," as if that proved that there was nothing to be concealed. The professor of physiology at University College was particularly examined on this point. "Would there be any difficulty in a doctor who was very strongly opposed on all grounds to experiments on animals presenting his card and being present?" "None whatsoever," was the Professor's answer to his questioner, the Chairman of the Commission. "I want to see," added Lord Selby, "what sort of check there is upon the neglect of the statute; ... whether any medical man who disagreed with the Act and disagreed with vivisection altogether would be able to attend?" "In these advanced lectures there is no means by which we can prevent him from attending," was the instant reply. "In point of fact, are ANY steps taken with a view of preventing it?" "None whatever," was the reply. "There is NOTHING to prevent it?" persisted Lord Selby; and the reply of the professor was reiterated: "There is nothing to prevent the attendance of any medical man at these advanced lectures."

The distinguished jurist undoubtedly believed that by these repeated interrogations he had reached a complete denial of the secrecy of experimentation so far as the witness was concerned.

On the day following, the same professor of physiology continued his evidence, and another member of the Commission—A. J. Ram, Esq.—"one of our counsel learned in the law," took part in the examination. "One hears a good deal in lay papers and so forth about experiments conducted with closed doors. IS THERE ANYTHING OF THAT SORT AT ALL?" The very form of his inquiry would seem to indicate his disbelief in the practice of secret vivisection. His question, however, admitted of two different replies. The physiologist might assert the necessary seclusion of physiological experimentation, or he might construe the question in a literal sense as pertaining merely to the locking of his inner door. He preferred the latter course. "I have ever come across a laboratory where there were any closed doors. In my laboratory any student wanting to speak to me walks straight in. The door of my laboratory, where I do the chief part of my work, IS ALWAYS OPEN TO THE PASSAGE."

This is very clever. The two leading lawyers of the Commission have sought to get at the truth concerning the secrecy of vivisection, and apparently are quite satisfied. But some hours later another member of the Commission, a plain Member of Parliament, without skill of fence or experience in the examination of witnesses, asks a question or two. "You have told us," said Mr. Tomkinson, "that any medical man, on presenting his card, can obtain admission at once to a laboratory?"

Here was an inquiry that could be answered but in one way. "No," replied the physiologist; "to the advanced physiological lectures which are given in the University of London." "NOT TO WITNESS ANY OPERATION?" "No; only to witness the demonstrations that are given in those lectures." "But might not the public be more satisfied if a layman—a Member of Parliament, for example—had the right of entry on presenting his card?" "Do you mean to the advanced lectures or to the laboratory?" "I mean to an operation IN THE LABORATORY: say a Member of Parliament or anyone whose position is assured?" "I should be only too pleased to see any Member of Parliament or any layman who had any doubt about it if he presented his card, but I SHOULD HAVE TO BE SATISFIED OF HIS BONA FIDES."

It is a pity that no one thought to ask the physiologist how he expected a Member of Parliament to prove his "good faith" before he could enter precincts open to every student of the University. Sir William Church came to his assistance by suggesting that the professor would admit anyone "vouched for" by a person whom you know, or whose position you know; but the curt monosyllabic reply was not indicative of a welcome, and it was quite different from the conditions which had just been laid down. The doors of the laboratory are "open," but only to those in whose silence and discretion the vivisector may trust.

A considerable amount of testimony was devoted to the alleged painfulness of vivisection. It is the great problem. If the absence of sensation were a certainty in all operations of the kind, there would be no reasonable objection to them, no matter to what extent they might be carried. The physiologists of the present day occupy a somewhat different attitude from those of half a century ago, or of yet later periods. Thirty years ago, one of the leading experimenters in England declared that he had "no regard at all" for the pain inflicted upon a vivisected animal; that he never used anaesthetics except when necessary for personal convenience; and that he had "no time, so to speak, for thinking what the animal will suffer." We find no such profession of indifference in the testimony of modern physiologists. What seems to take its place is, in many cases, a denial of the existence of pain in the experimentation of the present day. Does anything here turn upon a definition of words? A professor at King's College, London, giving his testimony, affirmed that "no student in England has EVER SEEN PAIN in an animal experiment"—a statement which in one sense everyone can accept, for who can say that he ever SAW a pain anywhere? Professor Starling, of the University College in London, declared that during his seventeen years of experimentation "on no occasion HAVE I EVER SEEN PAIN inflicted in any experiment on dog, cat, or rabbit in a physiological laboratory in this country." The experimenter is undoubtedly correct. Neither he nor anyone else in or out of a laboratory has ever "SEEN PAIN."

Some of Dr. Starling's testimony on the subject of pain is very curious. Pain, he tells the Commissioners, "would spoil the experiment," and "A PHYSIOLOGICAL EXPERIMENT WHICH IS PAINFUL IS THEREBY A BAD EXPERIMENT." He is asked whether "there are any operations performed under circumstances in which the animal is necessarily and intentionally sensitive to some pain?" Without any apparent hesitation he replied: "NO, NEVER." Surely this is a remarkable assertion. He is not speaking, so far as one can see, of his own laboratory, but of all the laboratories of the world. If, since the discovery of anaesthesia over sixty years ago, there has been painful physiological experimentation in England, in America, or on the Continent of Europe, IT HAS BEEN BAD EXPERIMENTATION. THE PAIN INFLICTED HAS SPOILED THEIR WORK. One may not be inclined to dispute this opinion, and yet be quite certain that some very eminent vivisectors in Europe and America would question its accuracy so far as their own work is concerned.

It is interesting to compare these assertions with the testimony given by another physiologist—Dr. Pembrey, the lecturer on physiology at Guy's Hospital in London. He tells the Commission that "a common- sense view should be taken of the question," and then makes a definite admission that by no means bears out the contention of the physiologist of University College. "I ADMIT," said Dr. Pembrey, "THAT I HAVE DONE PAINFUL EXPERIMENTS, and I am not ashamed of admitting it." He goes yet further, declaring that if you caused an animal to suffer extreme agony, the pain itself might be so severe as to render the creature unconscious. It is probable that the physiologist could not have foreseen the results of his candid admissions. When the Commission made their final report, they expressed unanimously the opinion that "to grant a licence to any person holding such views as those formerly expressed by Dr. Klein and as those entertained by Dr. Pembrey is calculated to create serious misgiving in the mind of the public."

Closely allied to this question is the problem of anaesthesia. Fifty years ago ether and chloroform were administered to animals very much as they were given to human beings undergoing operations in surgery. An animal returning to consciousness gave abundant evidence of its sensibility to suffering by its struggles and cries. The experimenter might try to believe that the pain was slight, but he never disputed its existence. To-day, all this is changed. As much or as little of the anaesthetic may be given as the vivisector desires, and yet he may declare that "ANAESTHETICS WERE USED," no matter how slight the degree of sensibility thus induced. It is a known fact that a dog is very susceptible to the action of chloroform, so that during its administration death frequently occurs. Sir Thornley Stoker, the President of the Royal Academy of Medicine in Ireland, and for many years a teacher of science, testified before the Commission that a dog's heart is very weak and irregular, and susceptible to the poisonous influence of chloroform. Over and over again he expresses the doubts that arise concerning the administration of chloroform. "I fear that, particularly in the case of dogs, ANAESTHESIA IS NOT ALWAYS PUSHED TO A SUFFICIENT EXTENT, as these animals often die from the effects of the anaesthetic if given to a full extent.... I am never sure, if I give a dog chloroform, that I will not kill it.... THE ANAESTHESIA CANNOT BE COMPLETE if the dog lives as long as is necessary for some of these experiments." Even for one hour he believes it would be generally impossible to keep a dog alive under full anaesthesia. On the other hand, Dr. Starling declared that "there is no difficulty in keeping an animal alive as long as you like," and Sir Victor Horsley affirmed that one could keep a dog under chloroform "FOR A WEEK, if you only take the trouble."[1]

[1] See Minutes of Evidence, November 13, 1907, Q. 15,649.

The discrepancy here would seem insurmountable. May it not be more in appearance than in reality? One man tells me that arsenic is a poison, very liable to cause death. Another affirms that he has taken it for days in succession, and has experienced no unpleasant results. Both statements can be true, for they need not refer to the same amount. In the modern laboratory there is little danger that the animals will succumb to the effects of anaesthetic. Assuredly we may question the completeness of that insensibility which Sir Victor Horsley apparently declares may be maintained for a week.

The use of the substance known as CURARE, either alone or in connection with anaesthetics or narcotics, was naturally a subject of passing inquiry. So slight is the knowledge afforded by certain physiologists that it would almost seem that they were united in a "conspiracy of silence" regarding it; in neither of the last two editions of the "Encyclopaedia Britannica" is there more than a casual reference to the poison, and no reference to its origin. "What is it?" asked one of the Commissioners. "Is it an herb?" A brief account of the poison, in view of an ignorance so widespread, is not out of place.

Curare is the arrow-poison of certain tribes of South American Indians. It was first brought to the knowledge of Europeans by Sir Walter Raleigh on his return from a voyage to Guiana in 1595, over three centuries ago. Its actual composition, even at the present time, is unknown; it is probable that different tribes of savages have their special methods of preparing it. Some travellers claim that it consists only of a decoction of poisonous plants; others believe that with such substances are mixed the fangs of snakes, and certain species of poisonous ants, the whole compound being boiled down to the consistency of tar.

The action of the poison thus made is exceedingly rapid. Numerous experiments by different observers have demonstrated that it swiftly destroys the functions of the motor nerves of the body, leaving the sensory nerves unaffected to any extent. Claude Be'rnard, who made many experiments with curare, came to the same conclusion; it abolishes the power of motion, but has no effect upon the nerves of sensation. An American physiologist, Dr. Isaac Ott, tells us that it is able to render animals immovable "by a paralysis of motor nerves ,LEAVING SENSORY NERVES INTACT." Be'rnard asserts as a result of numerous experiments that in an animal poisoned with curare, "its intelligence, sensibility and will-power are not affected, but they lose the power of moving;" and that death, apparently so calm, "is accompanied by sufferings the most atrocious that the human imagination can conceive." Although it may seem to be a corpse without movement, and with every appearance of death, "sensibility and intelligence exist ... it hears and comprehends whatever goes on, and feels whatever painful impressions we may inflict." It is only within late years, and since the employment of curare has been denounced, that anyone has suggested any doubt of these physiological conclusions.

It has been found by physiologists that if the throat of a dog be severed and the windpipe exposed and artificial respiration kept up, all the functions of life may be greatly prolonged; and if curare be used, the creature does not die, although it feels. Supposing that morphia or chloroform be administered at the same time—is the animal, notwithstanding, conscious of pain? Professor Starling admitted in his evidence that if the anaesthetic passed off, the curarized animal would be unable to move or to show any sign of suffering; there would be no possibility of a dog whining or moaning; "it could not, under curare," he frankly admits. Dr. Thane, one of the Government inspectors of laboratories, gave interesting evidence on this point, in reply to questions of one of the Commissioners.

"What is the object of giving curare when you are going to give an anaesthetic?"

"The object of giving curare is to stop all reflex movements...."

"It would stop all struggling, would it not?"

"IT WOULD STOP ALL STRUGGLING."

"That is to say, it would put an end to the usual signs of the animal not being properly under anaesthesia?"

"That is so."

"And in that case the experimenter has to depend solely, not upon the attendant, but upon the accuracy of his apparatus? He cannot tell from looking at the animal, which is perfectly still, whether it is suffering or not?"

"If his apparatus breaks down, the animal will die of suffocation; it will not get air."

"Yes, it may die; but so long as it is alive, HE could not say, YOU could not say, I could not say—if I were present—that the animal was properly under anaesthesia, IF THERE WERE NO SIGNS BY WHICH YOU CAN TELL?"

"We could say the animal is respiring air which is charged with anaesthetic in sufficient quantity to keep it anaesthetized before we gave it curare."

"That is all you could say?"

"That is all we could say."[1]

[1] Evidence taken November 21, 1906.

And this pious opinion Dr. Thane reiterates to other questioners. It fails to satisfy except where faith is strong. "The curious thing to me," said Dr. George Wilson, "is that you or anyone else can say positively that an animal which cannot, by moving, give any indication that it is not completely anaesthetized during all this time that it is under a terribly severe operation does not suffer.... I cannot understand such a positive statement." And after Dr. Starling had admitted the impossibility of a dog, under curare, making any cry, Dr. Wilson rejoins: "THEN HOW CAN YOU TELL THAT IT SUFFERS NO PAIN? You may hope and believe, but how can you tell that during a prolonged and terrible experiment, the animal suffers no pain?" The only reply that the experimenter could give was a reiteration of faith in the working of the apparatus.

And here, for the present, the problem must be left. Its only answer is a guess. Yet it should be capable of a definite solution. Every year, in our great cities, it becomes necessary to put homeless dogs out of existence in some merciful way. It should be possible, by use of chloroform, to determine which theory is true. If, under proper circumstances, a dozen animals were made absolutely unconscious by the use of chloroform, as insensible as human being are made before a capital operation, so that the corneal reflex is abolished, could this degree of unconsciousness be maintained "as long as any experimenter desired"? Would it even be possible as a rule to keep them alive a week, yet completely anaesthetized? Or, on the contrary, would such animals be peculiarly liable to sudden death from the effects of the chloroform? One cannot doubt the possibility of laboratory anaesthesia being maintained indefinitely; but how is it with complex and full surgical anaesthesia? Until such appeal to science shall have been made in the presence of those who doubt, and are able to judge, the question cannot be regarded as settled. There are those who will believe that the older investigators were right; that the perfect insensibility to pain is not invariably attained in these cases; and that both in English and American laboratories the most hideous torments are sometimes inflicted upon man's most faithful servant and friend. Even Dr. Thane, the Government inspector, admitted that in making reports the inspector "never could determine which experiments were painless and which were painful."

The evidence given by experimenters was frequently very curious, and sometimes suggestive. Professor Starling, for example, testified that dogs exhibited no fright or fear at entering a vivisection chamber; there are no signs "that they have ANY IDEA OF WHAT THEY ARE GOING TO SUFFER," said the physiologist; "that is a great consolation in dealing with animals, as compared with dealing with a man."[1] "GOING TO SUFFER" is a somewhat significant admission. He is asked whether the experimentation of to-day is more or less humanely conducted than it was before the Act of 1876; and instead of replying he tells the Commissioners that "there was very little work carried out before the Act; THERE WERE ONLY ONE OR TWO PHYSIOLOGISTS." Upon such ignorance of history comment is hardly necessary. We have heard much concerning a "wonderful discovery" of a Dr. Crile, the giving of morphia before a surgical operation, in order to quiet the apprehensions of the patients and so to prevent the occurrence of shock. Yet as long ago as 1906, Dr. Thane, a member of the Royal College of Surgeons, testified, upon the authority of a distinguished scientist, that such use of morphia before administration of anaesthetics "is often done in surgical operations." The attention of Sir Victor Horsley was called to the experiments of a Dr. Watson in America. Had he heard of them?

[1] Minutes of Evidence, Q. 3,885.

"Yes, I know of those experiments," was the reply.

"Were they, in your opinion, valuable experiments?"

"I cannot, at the moment, call to mind whether they revealed any new conditions. I should have to look them up again."

"Were they justifiable, in your opinion?"

"CERTAINLY," was Sir Victor Horsley's terse reply.

Yet, when the account of these experiments was first published, the British Medical Journal, in its editorial columns, thus commented upon them:

"The present pamphlet calls for our strongest reprobation as a record of the most wanton and stupidest cruelty we have ever seen chronicled under the guise of scientific experiments.... Apart from the utterly useless nature of the observations, so far as regards human pathology, there is a callous indifference shown in the description of the suffering of the poor brutes which is positively revolting.... WE TRUST THAT NO ONE, IN THE PROFESSION OR OUT OF IT, will be tempted by the fancy that these or such-like experiments are scientific or justifiable."

It will be seen that concerning Watson's most cruel vivisections Sir Victor Horsley was not in agreement with the British Medical Journal, the official organ of the Association of which, before the Commission, he appeared as the representative!

The final report of the Royal Commission occupies a volume. The long period over which the inquiry extended, the generally apparent desire to permit every phase of opinion to have a hearing, all tended toward views which, if not unanimous, at any rate indicated a desire to be fair. Taken as a whole, the evidence and the final decisions of the Commission constitute an important contribution to the literature of animal experimentation which has appeared during the present century.

The conclusions of the Commission are almost, yet not quite, unanimous. All of the eight members signed the final report, three of them, however, making their assent subject to a qualifying memorandum that in certain respects indicated a considerable divergence of opinion. The following are the conclusions of the Commission, the words in italics and parentheses being the qualifying additions of one of their number, Dr. George Wilson.

"Altogether, apart from the moral and ethical questions involved in the employment of experiments on living animals for scientific purposes, we are, after full consideration, inclined to think—

"1. That certain results, claimed from time to time have been proved by experiments upon living animals, and alleged to have been beneficial in preventing and curing disease, have, upon further investigation, been found to be fallacious or useless. (INDEED, THE FALLACIES AND FAILURES ARE, IN MY OPINION, FAR MORE CONSPICUOUS THAN SUCCESSFUL RESULTS.)

"2. That notwithstanding such failures, valuable knowledge has been acquired in regard to physiological processes and the causation of disease, and that (SOME) methods for the prevention, cure, and treatment of certain diseases (OTHER THAN BACTERIAL), have resulted from experimental investigations upon living animals.

"3. That, as far as we can judge, it is highly improbable that, without experiments made upon animals, mankind would by now have been in possession of such knowledge.

"4. That in so far as disease has been successfully prevented, or its mortality reduced, suffering has been diminished in man and the lower animals.

"5. That there is ground for believing that similar methods of investigation, if pursued in the future, will be attended with similar results." (FAILURES PLENTIFUL ENOUGH STILL, BUT SUCCESSFUL RESULTS FEWER AND FEWER AS THE FIELD OF LEGITIMATE RESEARCH MUST BECOME GRADUALLY MORE AND MORE RESTRICTED.)

Other conclusions appear to be as follows:

"We strongly hold that limits should be placed to animal suffering in the search for physiological or pathological knowledge."

How far interference with experimentation should extend appears to have been a matter of divergent views. Five of the Commissioners took the following position:

"An Inspector should have the power to order the painless destruction of any animal which, having been the subject of any experiment, shows signs of obvious suffering or considerable pain, even though the object of the experiment may not have been obtained; and

"That in all cases in which, in the opinion of the experimenter, the animal is suffering severe pain which is likely to endure, it shall be his duty to cause painless death, even though the object of the experiment has not been attained."

Three of the Commissioners—Sir William J. Collins, M.D., Dr. George Wilson, and Colonel Lockwood—do not agree with this clause. They cannot approve of a rule which leaves to the discretion of the vivisector the right of keeping alive for an indefinite period, a suffering creature. They recommend that all observations, "likely to cause pain and suffering shall be conducted under adequate anaesthetics, skilfully and humanely administered, or if the nature of the investigation render this impracticable, then, that on the supervention of real or obvious suffering the animal shall be forthwith painlessly killed."

The Commission recommended that, in certain cases, immediate or special records or reports of results should be furnished by the experimenter. The three members just named agree with this, but would have such reports the rule, and not the exception. With this view I am personally in emphatic accord. Every experiment should have its complete record, available for publication if so desired.

That part of the final report which in certain respects is more valuable than all the rest, is the reservation memorandum of Dr. George Wilson, one of the Commissioners. He is not an anti- vivisectionist, for he agrees with the unanimous conclusion of his associates that "experiments upon animals, adequately safeguarded by laws faithfully administered, are morally justifiable." Regarding the practice as now carried on, he maintains the only scientific position, that which more inclines to doubt than to credulity. The assurances of witnesses, that in certain experimental operations no pain was inflicted, Dr. Wilson accepts "as opinions to which the greatest weight should be attached, and not as statements of absolute fact, so far as specific instances are concerned." That insensibility to pain is invariably maintained is by no means sure; "however confident the operator may be that he has abolished all pain, VIVISECTIONAL ANAESTHESIA, WITH ALL ITS VARIETIES OF AGENTS AND METHODS OF INDUCTION, CAN NEVER BE DIVESTED OF AN ELEMENT OF UNCERTAINTY."

What are we to say of the results, either to science or the art of healing, which modern vivisection has contributed? It is regarding this point that Dr. Wilson has brought together a mass of evidence of unquestionable value, in a field of inquiry peculiarly his own. For more than thirty years he had been a writer upon topics pertaining to the Public Health. One by one, in his memorandum, Dr. Wilson has examined the claims of vivisection regarding the chief forms of disease which have occupied the attention of experimenters—cancer, which still maintains its advance in fatality; tuberculosis, which began to decline in England more than forty years ago, before it was associated with experimentation; hydrophobia, diphtheria, tetanus, typhoid fever, snake-poison, sleeping-sickness, and certain animal ailments of an infectious character. What is his conclusion regarding all the claims of vastly increased potency of modern medicine over these powers of darkness and death? That experiments have been utterly valueless? No; some useful knowledge has been acquired, in certain directions. "But I still contend, and have endeavored to prove, that the useful results which have been claimed, or may still be claimed, HAVE BEEN ENORMOUSLY OVER-ESTIMATED." And the final conclusion of this keen observer and lifelong student of medicine is this: "That experiments on animals, no matter with what prospective gain to humanity, are repellant to the ethical sense; and that those who persistently advocate them as beneficial to human or animal life MUST JUSTIFY THEIR CLAIMS BY RESULTS.... Even admitting that experiments on animals have contributed to the relief of human suffering, such measure of relief is infinitesimal compared with the pain which has been inflicted to secure it."

What changes to the existing law of England regarding animal experimentation, or in the administration of the Act, did this Commission recommend?

FIRST. AN INCREASE IN THE NUMBER OF INSPECTORS. "The inspectors should be sufficiently numerous and should have at their command ample time to afford to the public reasonable assurance that the law is faithfully administered."

SECOND. RESTRICTIONS IN THE USE OF CURARE. "We are all agreed, that if its use is to be permitted at all, an inspector, or some person nominated by the Secretary of State, should be present from the commencement of the experiment, who should satisfy himself that the animal is throughout the whole experiment and UNTIL ITS DEATH IN A STATE OF COMPLETE ANAESTHESIA."

This is a most remarkable recommendation. Can it imply anything else than distrust of the experimenter?

THIRD. "STRICTER PROVISIONS REGARDING THE PRACTICE OF PITHING." The operation must be complete; performed only under an adequate anaesthetic; and by a licensed person when made on a warm-blooded animal.

FOURTH. "ADDITIONAL RESTRICTIONS REGULATING THE PAINLESS DESTRUCTION OF ANIMALS which show signs of suffering after the experiment."

To this recommendation and its suggested amendment by three of the Commissioners, reference has already been made.

FIFTH. "A CHANGE IN THE METHOD OF SELECTING and in the constitution of the Advisory body to the Secretary of State."

SIXTH. "SPECIAL RECORDS BY EXPERIMENTERS IN CERTAIN CASES." On this point we have seen that three of the Commissioners went yet farther, and believed that in ALL cases of painful experiment—and, possibly, in all cases whatsoever, such reports should be made.

It is now upwards of thirty-five years since the Act regulating the practice of vivisection in England came into effect. During all that period, in the United States, the law has never ceased to be an object of misrepresentation and attack. Before Legislatures and Senate Committees, on the platform and in the press, by men of good reputation but associated with laboratory interests, the English law has been denounced as a hindrance to scientific progress and a warning against similar legislation in the United States. And yet nothing can be more evident that all these attacks were based upon ignorance and misstatement. We find a Royal Commission in England, composed almost entirely of scientific men, everyone of them favourable to animal experimentation, devoting years to an inquiry concerning not vivisection only, but the working of the law by which it is regulated. And the conclusions reached are in every respect opposed to the statements made by the laboratory interests here. THEY FULLY ENDORSE THE PRINCIPLE OF STATE REGULATION, WHICH EVERYWHERE IN AMERICA IS SO STRENUOUSLY OPPOSED. But this is not all. Every recommendation made for modification of the Act is in the direction of animal protection, and toward an increased stringency of the regulations relating to animal experimentation. In not a single instance was there recommendation that the regulations should be less stringent; not an instance in which it was suggested that privileges of the vivisector should be enlarged. That this should be the result of an inquiry in this twentieth century, extending over five years, is remarkable indeed. Perhaps there is no reason for surprise that all these conclusions of the Royal Commission were never made known to the American public by the periodicals of the day. Is it possible for anyone to believe that such conclusions would ever have been attained if the denunciations of State regulation of vivisection, proceeding from the American laboratory, had been grounded in truth?

CHAPTER XI

THE GREAT ANAESTHETIC DELUSION

A popular delusion is often the basis of a great abuse. If at one time witches were burnt by countless thousands, it was at a period when implicit faith in the reality of diabolic conspiracy was undisturbed by sceptical questionings. Human slavery existed for centuries, not only because it was profitable, but because it came to be regarded as the only conceivable permanent relation between the negro and the white man. The Spanish Inquisition existed for ages, because the pious Spaniard could not believe that the good men who upheld, encouraged, and promoted its activity could be liable to error, or actuated by other than the loftiest principles. Men find themselves deluded not merely because of their faith in the integrity of their fellow-men, but because they have also extended that faith to the accuracy of their opinions.