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CHAPTER III AN EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY VIVISECTOR

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English literature during the eighteenth century presents no more distinguished name than that of Dr. Samuel Johnson, the lexicographer and essayist. His learning was immense; his judgments and criticisms were everywhere regarded with respect; and, above other great men of his time, he was fortunate in having as friend and companion one who produced the best biography that the world has ever known.

Dr. Johnson's views of vivisection and vivisectors appeared as a contribution to the Idler, on August 5, 1761, more than a hundred years before the date given by Professor Bowditch as that of "THE FIRST SERIOUS ATTACK UPON BIOLOGICAL RESEARCH IN ENGLAND." It may, nevertheless, be doubted whether any attack more "serious" or protest more weighty was ever made than was written by the most eminent literary man of his time, a century and a half ago.

"Among the inferior professors of medical knowledge is a race of wretches whose lives are only varied by varieties of cruelty; whose favourite amusement is to nail dogs to tables and open them alive; to try how long life may be continued in various degrees of mutilation, or with the excision or laceration of vital parts; to examine whether burning irons are felt more acutely by the bone or tendon; and whether the more lasting agonies are produced by poison forced into the mouth or injected into the veins. It is not without reluctance that I offend the sensibility of the tender mind with images like these. If such cruelties were not practised, it were to be desired that they should not be conceived; but since they are published every day with ostentation, let me be allowed once to mention them, since I mention them with abhorrence. … The anatomical novice tears out the living bowels of an animal, and styles himself a `physician'; prepares himself by familiar cruelty for that profession which he is to exercise upon the tender and helpless, upon feeble bodies and broken minds, and by which he has opportunities to extend his arts and tortures, and continue those experiments upon Infancy and Age which he has hitherto tried upon cats and dogs. What is alleged in defence of these hateful practices, everyone knows; but the truth is that by knives and fire knowledge is not always sought, and is very seldom attained. I know not that by living dissections any discovery has been made by which a single malady is more easily cured. And if the knowledge of physiology has been somewhat increased, he surely buys knowledge dear who learns the use of the lacteals at the expense of his own humanity. IT IS TIME THAT A UNIVERSAL RESENTMENT AGAINST THESE HORRID OPERATIONS SHOULD ARISE, which tend to harden the heart, and make the physician more dreadful than the gout or the stone."

A more vigorous denunciation of the cruelty of vivisection never appeared than these words of the first scholar of the English- speaking world. Of course the plea will be put forth that in Dr. Johnson's time the use of anaesthetics was unknown. Are we, then, to conclude that the present-day defenders of absolute freedom in animal research would join him in condemning the perpetrators of ALL EXPERIMENTS CAUSING DISTRESS IN WHICH ANAESTHETICS CANNOT BE EMPLOYED? For the merit of Dr. Johnson's plea lies in this, THAT HE MAKES ETHICAL CONSIDERATIONS OF HIGHER IMPORTANCE THAN THE DISCOVERY OF PHYSIOLOGICAL FACTS. "If the knowledge of physiology has been somewhat increased, he surely buys knowledge dear who learns the use of the lacteals at the expense of his own humanity." Is there a physiological defenders of vivisection-freedom living to-day who would accept Dr. Johnson's conclusion, that one should forbear research which is possible only by the infliction of animal torment? How unfair it is, therefore, to suggest that the force of Dr. Johnson's argument is invalidated because anaesthetics were unknown—when the disagreement is infinitely deeper!

To what physiologists of his time did Dr. Johnson allude? Apparently his denunciation was sweeping; he referred to "a race of wretches" rather than to any particular individual, and to experiments then carried on and "published every day with ostentation." Who were the men thus stigmatized? We do not know. The record of their useless tormenting has sunk into the oblivion that hides their names; there are but one or two whose identity may perhaps be guessed. It is possible that one of them was John Hunter; yet Hunter did not go up to London until 1764, and Dr. Johnson's condemnation had appeared three years earlier. Still, this does not preclude the possibility that Dr. Johnson had Hunter in his mind.

In some ways John Hunter was a remarkable man. He made an anatomical collection, which is still in existence and which bears his name. At Earl's Court, then a suburb of London, he established a sort of zoological Inferno, that reminds one of the "Island of Dr. Moreau." One of his biographers, Ottley, tells us that Hunger "TOOK SUPREME DELIGHT" in his physiological experiments; and inasmuch as he suggested in a letter to a friend the performance of the most agonizing experiments as likely to "amuse" him, the statement was undoubtedly true. A man's occupation generally has an influence upon his character, and Hunter's biographer rather hesitatingly admits that "he was not always very nice in his choice of associates," and that among his companions were certain abominable wretches known as "resurrection men," who robbed graveyards for the benefit of students of anatomy. Under all circumstances, we can hardly be surprised that his married life was anything but serene.

In the infliction of pain he seems to have been without any idea of pity. To a friend who asked for his experience in a certain matter, he wrote:

"I thank you for your experiment on the hedgehog; but WHY DO YOU ASK ME A QUESTION, by the way of solving it? I think your solution is just, but why—WHY NOT TRY THE EXPERIMENT? Repeat all the experiments upon a hedgehog as soon as you receive this, and they will give you the solution. TRY THE HEAT. CUT OFF A LEG … and let me know the result of the whole. "Ever yours, "JOHN HUNTER."

Even his own word, or the result of his own observations, he did not wish to have accepted, when, merely at the cost of another tortured animal, his friend could find the answer for himself. Is not this the physiological ideal of to-day?

Again he writes to his scientific friend:

"If you could make some experiments on the increased heat of inflammation, I should be obliged to you. … I opened the thorax of a dog between two ribs, and introduced the thermometer. Then I put some lint into the wound to keep it from healing by the first intention, THAT THE THORAX MIGHT INFLAME; but before I had time to try it again, my dog died on the fourth day. A deep wound might be made into the thick of a dog's thigh, then put in the thermometer and some extraneous matter. … IF THESE EXPERIMENTS WILL AMUSE YOU, I should be glad they were made; but take care you do not break your thermometer in the dog's chest."[1]

[1] Barron's "Life of Jenner," i. 44.

"IF THESE EXPERIMENTS WILL AMUSE YOU"—what a suggestive confirmation of Dr. Johnson's charge that the torture of vivisection was then regarded as an "amusement"! A century after, an Italian physiologist, Mantegazza, devoted a year to the infliction of extreme torment upon animals, and confessed that his tortures were inflicted, not with hesitation or repugnance, but "CON MULTO AMORE," with extreme delight.[2]

[2] "Fisiolgia del Dolore di Paulo Mantegazza," pp. 101–107.

Hunter does not seem to have regarded his own experiments other than as an intellectual pastime. Mr. Stephen Paget, in his work on "Animal Experimentation," refers to "one great experiment … that puts him [Hunter] on a line with Harvey"—an experiment upon a deer in Richmond Park. There is no reason for doubting that such an experiment may have been made; but the curious thing is, that it rests only on verbal tradition, for in his surgical lectures treating of aneurism Hunter has not a word to say of the experiment which now, we are told, "links his name with that of Harvey," who made known the circulation of the blood. His biographer, Ottley, referring to his surgical operation for aneurism, tell us that "he was led to propose the improved method, in consequence of the frequent failure of the operation by the old mode." No reference whatever is made to the legendary experiment on the stag in Richmond Park.[1]

[1] Ottley's "Life of Hunter," p. 97.

Of other experiments by Hunter we know more. Sometimes his observations were of a character that illustrates his environment. In his "Observations" Hunter tells us that at one time, on going to bed at night, he "observed bugs, marching down the curtains and head of the bed; of those killed, NONE had blood in them." In the morning "I have observed them marching back, and all such were found FULL OF BLOOD!"[2] A wonderful discovery for a philosopher to record, leaving unmentioned the one experiment and observation by which his fame is to be linked with that of Harvey!

[2] Letter to Ottley, "Life," p. 89.

Hunter had erroneous views on various matters of science. He believed that there was "no such thing as a primary colour, every colour being a mixture of two, making a third." He tells us that he once formed a theory that if a human being were completely frozen, "life might be prolonged a thousand years, he might learn what had happened during his frozen condition."[3] His biographer, Ottley, alludes to this theory of Hunter's as "a project which, if realized, he expected would make his fortune."[4] With this not altogether admirable object in view, his experiments upon freezing animals were doubtless made. A dormouse, confined in a cold mixture, he tells us, "showed signs of great uneasiness; sometimes it would curl itself into round form to preserve its extremities and confine the heat, and finding that ineffectual, would then endeavor to escape." Its feet were at last frozen, but Hunter could not freeze the entire animal because of the protection afforded by the hair. How should the scientist overcome this difficulty? He pondered over the problem; then made a dormouse completely wet over, and placed it in the freezing-mixture. The wretched animal "made repeated attempts to escape," but without avail, and finally became quote stiff. Alas, for the grand "fortune"! Hunter tells us that "on being thawed, it was found quite dead!"[1]

[3] "Lectures," i. 284. [4] Ottley's "Life of Hunter," p. 57. [1] Hunter's Works, vol. iv., p. 133.

The influence of Hunter upon English biology was undoubtedly very great. In a mean and sordid society, he was an enthusiast for the acquisition of knowledge, and while his passion for physiology induced—as it so often does—an indifference regarding the infliction of pain, his pitiless vivisections were not more cruel than experiments made in this twentieth century, and some of them by men of national reputation. He was the type of the class of experimenters whom Dr. Johnson had in his mind, men whose long practice in the infliction of torment creates an indifference to the ordinary emotions of humanity, so that even in the causation of agony they find something "to amuse," and in the performance of the most painful vivisection an occasion for "supreme delight."

An Ethical Problem

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