{
  "schema": "tga.work.v1",
  "identifier": "dresden:vol-11:vivisection",
  "slug": "vivisection",
  "title": "Vivisection",
  "subtitle": "Against cruelty to animals in the name of science.",
  "excerpt": "Ingersoll's strong condemnation of vivisection — cruelty in the name of science can be no more excused than cruelty in the name of God.",
  "year": 1893,
  "volume": 11,
  "category": "Essay",
  "author": {
    "name": "Robert G. Ingersoll",
    "wikidata": "Q360326",
    "viaf": "44331023"
  },
  "isPartOf": {
    "title": "The Works of Robert G. Ingersoll",
    "edition": "Dresden Edition",
    "publisher": "C. P. Farrell",
    "year": 1900
  },
  "license": "https://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/mark/1.0/",
  "url": "https://thegreatagnostic.com/works/vivisection/",
  "wordCount": 609,
  "body": "*A letter written to Philip G. Peabody. May 27, 1800.\n\nVIVISECTION is the Inquisition—the Hell—of Science.\n\nAll the cruelty which the human—or rather the inhuman—heart is capable\nof inflicting, is in this one word. Below this there is no depth. This\nword lies like a coiled serpent at the bottom of the abyss.\n\nWe can excuse, in part, the crimes of passion. We take into\nconsideration the fact that man is liable to be caught by the whirlwind,\nand that from a brain on fire the soul rushes to a crime. But\nwhat excuse can ingenuity form for a man who deliberately—with an\nunaccelerated pulse—with the calmness of John Calvin at the murder\nof Servetus—seeks, with curious and cunning knives, in the living,\nquivering flesh of a dog, for all the throbbing nerves of pain? The\nwretches who commit these infamous crimes pretend that they are working\nfor the good of man; that they are actuated by philanthropy; and that\ntheir pity for the sufferings of the human race drives out all pity for\nthe animals they slowly torture to death. But those who are incapable\nof pitying animals are, as a matter of fact, incapable of pitying men.\nA physician who would cut a living rabbit in pieces—laying bare the\nnerves, denuding them with knives, pulling them out with forceps—would\nnot hesitate to try experiments with men and women for the gratification\nof his curiosity.\n\nTo settle some theory, he would trifle with the life of any patient\nin his power. By the same reasoning he will justify the vivisection of\nanimals and patients. He will say that it is better that a few animals\nshould suffer than that one human being should die; and that it is far\nbetter that one patient should die, if through the sacrifice of that\none, several may be saved.\n\nBrain without heart is far more dangerous than heart without brain.\n\nHave these scientific assassins discovered anything of value? They may\nhave settled some disputes as to the action of some organ, but have they\nadded to the useful knowledge of the race?\n\nIt is not necessary for a man to be a specialist in order to have and\nexpress his opinion as to the right or wrong of vivisection. It is not\nnecessary to be a scientist or a naturalist to detest cruelty and to\nlove mercy. Above all the discoveries of the thinkers, above all the\ninventions of the ingenious, above all the victories won on fields of\nintellectual conflict, rise human sympathy and a sense of justice.\n\nI know that good for the human race can never be accomplished by\ntorture. I also know that all that has been ascertained by vivisection\ncould have been done by the dissection of the dead. I know that all the\ntorture has been useless. All the agony inflicted has simply hardened\nthe hearts of the criminals, without enlightening their minds.\n\nIt may be that the human race might be physically improved if all the\nsickly and deformed babes were killed, and if all the paupers, liars,\ndrunkards, thieves, villains, and vivisectionists were murdered. All\nthis might, in a few ages, result in the production of a generation\nof physically perfect men and women; but what would such beings be\nworth,—men and women healthy and heartless, muscular and cruel—that is\nto say, intelligent wild beasts?\n\nNever can I be the friend of one who vivisects his fellow-creatures. I\ndo not wish to touch his hand.\n\nWhen the angel of pity is driven from the heart; when the fountain of\ntears is dry,—the soul becomes a serpent crawling in the dust of a\ndesert.\n"
}