His first great "discovery" unfortunately has not yet been accorded scientific acceptance. "It is little," he says, "to have proven the existence of sensibility in animals; I have proven that sensation pertains not merely to animals, but that it also is the property of vegetables—in a word, OF EVERYTHING THAT LIVES. Everywhere it acts in the same manner, through the nerves. The entire vegetable kingdom possesses the sense of feeling" (tous les vegetaux possedent la faculte de sentier).[1]
[1] "Recherches," etc., p. 13.
Had Brachet confined himself solely to experiments on the sensibility of plants, we should have little to criticize. Unfortunately, however, his scientific tastes led him in another direction. He belonged to a class of men who cannot permit the most apparent fact to be taken for granted, when, at the cost of torment, it may be demonstrated—men like Magendie, who insisted on proving to his students that an animal could really feel pain by stabbing it with his knife before commencing his experiment. Brachet's problem was a simple one. We all know, for instance, that an animal—a dog—may feel an intense dislike to some particular person. Why? Because of impressions conveyed to the brain of the animal by the senses of sight and hearing. Outside an asylum for idiots, it is probable that no one ever questioned the fact. Brachet, however, would not permit his readers to accept any statement merely upon the general experience of mankind, when it might be proven scientifically, and he has described in his book the experiments by which he claims to have demonstrated his theory.
"EXPERIMENT 162.—I inspired a dog with the strongest possible hatred for me by teasing it and inflicting upon it some pain every time I saw it. When this feeling had reached its height, so that the animal became furious whenever it saw or heard me, I put out its eyes [je lui fis crever les yeux]. I could then appear before it without its manifesting any aversion. I spoke, and immediately its barkings and furious movements permitted no doubt of the rage which animated it.
"I then destroyed the drum of the ears, and disorganized as much as I could of the inner ear. When the intense inflammation thus excited had rendered it almost deaf, I filled its ears with wax, and it could hear me no longer. Then I could stand by its side, speak to it in a loud voice, and even caress it, without awakening its anger; indeed, it appeared sensible of my caresses! There is no need to describe another experiment of the same kind, made upon another dog, since the results were the same."
By this great experiment, what valuable knowledge was conveyed? Simply that a dog, deprived of sight and hearing, will not manifest antipathy to a man it can neither see nor hear!
A true vivisector is never at a loss to invent excuse or occasion for an experiment. Dr. Brachet had made it clear that a dog will not manifest antipathy toward an enemy whose presence it cannot perceive; but suppose such a mutilated creature, in its darkness and silence, were subjected to some sharp and continuous physical pain, what then would happen? He proceeded to ascertain:
"EXPERIMENT 163.—I began the experiment on another dog by putting out its eyes [par crever les yeux], and breaking up the internal ears. Ten days later, THE SUFFERING OF THE ANIMAL HAVING APPARENTLY CEASED, after assuring myself that it could no longer see nor hear, I made a sore in the middle of its back. EVERY MOMENT I IRRITATED THIS WOULD BY PICKING IT WITH A NEEDLE Of such an abominable experiment, however scientific it may appear, it is difficult to speak with restraint. To the average man or woman it will probably seem that nothing more fiendish or cruel can be found anywhere in the dark records of animal experimentation. Dr. Brachet was no obscure or unexperienced vivisector. At one time he was the professor of physiology in a medical school; he was a member of many learned societies at home and abroad. But think of an educated man procuring a little dog and deliberately putting out its eyes; then breaking up the internal ear, so that for many days the animal must have endured excruciating anguish from the inflammation thus induced; next, when the pain had somewhat subsided, creating a sore on the back by removal of the skin; and then, after comfortably seating himself in his physiological laboratory by the side of his victim, scientifically picking, and piercing, and pricking the wound, without respite— constantly, without ceasing—until the blinded and deafened and tortured creature is driven into frenzy by torments which it felt continually, which it could not comprehend, and from which, by no exertion, it was able to defend itself! Think of the scientist asking many other learned men to join him from time to time in the experiment, and to take part in picking at the wound, in tormenting the mutilated and blinded victim, and in driving it again and again to the madness of despair! Does anyone say that such an experiment could not be made to-day? In one of the largest laboratories of America, and within ten years, an experiment equally cruel, equally useless, has been performed. The modern defender of unrestricted vivisection distinctly insists that no legal impediment should hinder the performance of any investigation desired by any experimenter. It was the editor of the British Medical Journal who once declared that "whoever has not seen an animal under experiment CANNOT FORM AN IDEA OF THE HABITUAL PRACTICES OF THE VIVISECTORS."[1] This accords with the statement of Dr. Henry J. Bigelow, for forty years connected with Harvard Medical School, that, aside from motives, painful vivisection differed mainly from other phases of cruelty "in being practised by an educated class, who, having once become callous to its objectionable features, find the pursuit an interesting occupation, under the name of Science." [1] British Medical Journal, September 19, 1863 (leading editorial)