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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 const.i.tuted, 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 endors.e.m.e.nt 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 Ma.s.sachusetts, in Pennsylvania, and in the city of Was.h.i.+ngton, 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 a.s.sertions 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 a.s.suring. "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 a.s.sert 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 Pa.s.sAGE."
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 a.s.sured?" "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 a.s.sistance 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 att.i.tude 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 circ.u.mstances 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 a.s.sertion. 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 a.s.sertions 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 a.r.s.enic 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 succ.u.mb to the effects of anaesthetic. a.s.suredly 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 pa.s.sing 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 a.s.serts 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 pa.s.sed 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 quant.i.ty 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 circ.u.mstances, 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: