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."