Question. Since you were last in this city, Colonel, a distinguished man has passed away in the person of Professor Swing. The public will be interested to have your opinion of him.
Answer. I think Professor Swing did a great amount of good. He helped to civilize the church and to humanize the people. His influence was in the right direction—toward the light. In his youth he was acquainted with toil, poverty, and hardship; his road was filled with thorns, and yet he lived and scattered flowers in the paths of many people. At first his soul was in the dungeon of a savage creed, where the windows were very small and closely grated, and though which struggled only a few rays of light. He longed for more light and for more liberty, and at last his fellow- prisoners drove him forth, and from that time until his death he did what he could to give light and liberty to the souls of men. He was a lover of nature, poetic in his temperament, charitable and merciful. As an orator he may have lacked presence, pose and voice, but he did not lack force of statement or beauty of expression. He was a man of wide learning, of great admiration of the heroic and tender. He did what he could to raise the standard of character, to make his fellow-men just and noble. He lost the provincialism of his youth and became in a very noble sense a citizen of the world. He understood that all the good is not in our race or in our religion—that in every land there are good and noble men, self- denying and lovely women, and that in most respects other religions are as good as ours, and in many respects better. This gave him breadth of intellectual horizon and enlarged his sympathy for the failures of the world. I regard his death as a great loss, and his life as a lesson and inspiration.
—Inter-Ocean, Chicago, October 13, 1894.
[* No one is better qualified than Robert G. Ingersoll totalk about Senator Sherman's book and the questions itraises in political history. Mr. Ingersoll was for years aresident of Washington and a next-door neighbor to Mr.Sherman; he was for an even longer period the intimatepersonal friend of James G. Blaine; he knew Garfield fromalmost daily contact, and of the Republican NationalConventions concerning which Senator Sherman has raisedpoints of controversy Mr. Ingersoll can say, as the NorthCarolinian said of the Confederacy: "Part of whom I amwhich."He placed Blaine's name before the convention at Cincinnatiin 1876. He made the first of the three great nominatingspeeches in convention history, Conkling and Garfield makingthe others in 1880.The figure of the Plumed Knight which Mr. Ingersoll createdto characterize Mr. Blaine is part of the latter's memory.At Chicago, four years later, when Garfield, dazed by theirresistible doubt of the convention, was on the point ofrefusing that in the acceptance of which he had no voluntarypart, Ingersoll was the adviser who showed him that duty toSherman required no such action.]
Question. What do you think of Senator Sherman's book—especially the part about Garfield?
Answer. Of course, I have only read a few extracts from Mr. Sherman's reminiscences, but I am perfectly satisfied that the Senator is mistaken about Garfield's course. The truth is that Garfield captured the convention by his course from day to day, and especially by the speech he made for Sherman. After that speech, and it was a good one, the best Garfield ever made, the convention said, "Speak for yourself, John."
It was perfectly apparent that if the Blaine and Sherman forces should try to unite, Grant would be nominated. It had to be Grant or a new man, and that man was Garfield. It all came about without Garfield's help, except in the way I have said. Garfield even went so far as to declare that under no circumstances could he accept, because he was for Sherman, and honestly for him. He told me that he would not allow his name to go before the convention. Just before he was nominated I wrote him a note in which I said he was about to be nominated, and that he must not decline. I am perfectly satisfied that he acted with perfect honor, and that he did his best for Sherman.
Question. Mr. Sherman expresses the opinion that if he had had the "moral strength" of the Ohio delegation in his support he would have been nominated?
Answer. We all know that while Senator Sherman had many friends, and that while many thought he would make an excellent President, still there was but little enthusiasm among his followers. Sherman had the respect of the party, but hardly the love.
Question. In his book the Senator expresses the opinion that he was quite close to the nomination in 1888, when Mr. Quay was for him. Do you think that is so, Mr. Ingersoll?
Answer. I think Mr. Sherman had a much better chance in 1888 than in 1880, but as a matter of fact, he never came within hailing distance of success at any time. He is not of the nature to sway great bodies of men. He lacks the power to impress himself upon others to such an extent as to make friends of enemies and devotees of friends. Mr. Sherman has had a remarkable career, and I think that he ought to be satisfied with what he has achieved.
Question. Mr. Ingersoll, what do you think defeated Blaine for the nomination in 1876?
Answer. On the first day of the convention at Cincinnati it was known that Blaine was the leading candidate. All of the enthusiasm was for him. It was soon known that Conkling, Bristow or Morton could not be nominated, and that in all probability Blaine would succeed. The fact that Blaine had been attacked by vertigo, or had suffered from a stroke of apoplexy, gave an argument to those who opposed him, and this was used with great effect. After Blaine was put in nomination, and before any vote was taken, the convention adjourned, and during the night a great deal of work was done. The Michigan delegation was turned inside out and the Blaine forces raided in several States. Hayes, the dark horse, suddenly developed speed, and the scattered forces rallied to his support. I have always thought that if a ballot could have been taken on the day Blaine was put in nomination he would have succeeded, and yet he might have been defeated for the nomination anyway.
Blaine had the warmest friends and the bitterest enemies of any man in the party. People either loved or hated him. He had no milk-and-water friends and no milk-and-water enemies.
Question. If Blaine had been nominated at Cincinnati in 1876 would he have made a stronger candidate than Hayes did?
Answer. If he had been nominated then, I believe that he would have been triumphantly elected. Mr. Blaine's worst enemies would not have supported Tilden, and thousands of moderate Democrats would have given their votes to Blaine.
Question. Mr. Ingersoll, do you think that Mr. Blaine wanted the nomination in 1884, when he got it?
Answer. In 1883, Mr. Blaine told me that he did not want the nomination. I said to him: "Is that honest?" He replied that he did not want it, that he was tired of the whole business. I said: "If you do not want it; if you have really reached that conclusion, then I think you will get it." He laughed, and again said: "I do not want it." I believe that he spoke exactly as he then felt.
Question. What do you think defeated Mr. Blaine at the polls in 1884?
Answer. Blaine was a splendid manager for another man, a great natural organizer, and when acting for others made no mistake; but he did not manage his own campaign with ability. He made a succession of mistakes. His suit against the Indianapolis editor; his letter about the ownership of certain stocks; his reply to Burchard and the preachers, in which he said that history showed the church could get along without the state, but the state could not get along without the church, and this in reply to the "Rum, Romanism and Rebellion" nonsense; and last, but not least, his speech to the millionaires in New York—all of these things weakened him. As a matter of fact many Catholics were going to support Blaine, but when they saw him fooling with the Protestant clergy, and accepting the speech of Burchard, they instantly turned against him. If he had never met Burchard, I think he would have been elected. His career was something like that of Mr. Clay; he was the most popular man of his party and yet——
Question. How do you account for Mr. Blaine's action in allowing his name to go before the convention at Minneapolis in 1892?
Answer. In 1892, Mr. Blaine was a sick man, almost worn out; he was not his former self, and he was influenced by others. He seemed to have lost his intuition; he was misled, yet in spite of all defeats, no name will create among Republicans greater enthusiasm than that of James G. Blaine. Millions are still his devoted, unselfish and enthusiastic friends and defenders.
—The Globe-Democrat, St. Louis, October 27, 1895.
Question. How were you affected by the announcement that the united prayers of the Salvationists and Christian Endeavorers were to be offered for your conversion?
Answer. The announcement did not affect me to any great extent. I take it for granted that the people praying for me are sincere and that they have a real interest in my welfare. Of course, I thank them one and all. At the same time I can hardly account for what they did. Certainly they would not ask God to convert me unless they thought the prayer could be answered. And if their God can convert me of course he can convert everybody. Then the question arises why he does not do it. Why does he let millions go to hell when he can convert them all. Why did he not convert them all before the flood and take them all to heaven instead of drowning them and sending them all to hell. Of course these questions can be answered by saying that God's ways are not our ways. I am greatly obliged to these people. Still, I feel about the same, so that it would be impossible to get up a striking picture of "before and after." It was good-natured on their part to pray for me, and that act alone leads me to believe that there is still hope for them. The trouble with the Christian Endeavorers is that they don't give my arguments consideration. If they did they would agree with me. It seemed curious that they would advise divine wisdom what to do, or that they would ask infinite mercy to treat me with kindness. If there be a God, of course he knows what ought to be done, and will do it without any hints from ignorant human beings. Still, the Endeavorers and the Salvation people may know more about God than I do. For all I know, this God may need a little urging. He may be powerful but a little slow; intelligent but sometimes a little drowsy, and it may do good now and then to call his attention to the facts. The prayers did not, so far as I know, do me the least injury or the least good. I was glad to see that the Christians are getting civilized. A few years ago they would have burned me. Now they pray for me.
Suppose God should answer the prayers and convert me, how would he bring the conversion about? In the first place, he would have to change my brain and give me more credulity—that is, he would be obliged to lessen my reasoning power. Then I would believe not only without evidence, but in spite of evidence. All the miracles would appear perfectly natural. It would then seem as easy to raise the dead as to waken the sleeping. In addition to this, God would so change my mind that I would hold all reason in contempt and put entire confidence in faith. I would then regard science as the enemy of human happiness, and ignorance as the soil in which virtues grow. Then I would throw away Darwin and Humboldt, and rely on the sermons of orthodox preachers. In other words, I would become a little child and amuse myself with a religious rattle and a Gabriel horn. Then I would rely on a man who has been dead for nearly two thousand years to secure me a seat in Paradise.
After conversion, it is not pretended that I will be any better so far as my actions are concerned; no more charitable, no more honest, no more generous. The great difference will be that I will believe more and think less.
After all, the converted people do not seem to be better than the sinners. I never heard of a poor wretch clad in rags, limping into a town and asking for the house of a Christian.
I think that I had better remain as I am. I had better follow the light of my reason, be true to myself, express my honest thoughts, and do the little I can for the destruction of superstition, the little I can for the development of the brain, for the increase of intellectual hospitality and the happiness of my fellow-beings. One world at a time.
—New York Journal, December 15, 1895.
There are several good things about Spiritualism. First, they are not bigoted; second, they do not believe in salvation by faith; third, they don't expect to be happy in another world because Christ was good in this; fourth, they do not preach the consolation of hell; fifth, they do not believe in God as an infinite monster; sixth, the Spiritualists believe in intellectual hospitality. In these respects they differ from our Christian brethren, and in these respects they are far superior to the saints.
I think that the Spiritualists have done good. They believe in enjoying themselves—in having a little pleasure in this world. They are social, cheerful and good-natured. They are not the slaves of a book. Their hands and feet are not tied with passages of Scripture. They are not troubling themselves about getting forgiveness and settling their heavenly debts for a cent on the dollar. Their belief does not make then mean or miserable.
They do not persecute their neighbors. They ask no one to have faith or to believe without evidence. They ask all to investigate, and then to make up their minds from the evidence. Hundreds and thousands of well-educated, intelligent people are satisfied with the evidence and firmly believe in the existence of spirits. For all I know, they may be right—but——
Question. The Spiritualists have indirectly claimed, that you were in many respects almost one of them. Have you given them reason to believe so?
Answer. I am not a Spiritualist, and have never pretended to be. The Spiritualists believe in free thought, in freedom of speech, and they are willing to hear the other side—willing to hear me. The best thing about the Spiritualists is that they believe in intellectual hospitality.
Question. Is Spiritualism a religion or a truth?
Answer. I think that Spiritualism may properly be called a religion. It deals with two worlds—teaches the duty of man to his fellows—the relation that this life bears to the next. It claims to be founded on facts. It insists that the "dead" converse with the living, and that information is received from those who once lived in this world. Of the truth of these claims I have no sufficient evidence.
Question. Are all mediums impostors?
Answer. I will not say that all mediums are impostors, because I do not know. I do not believe that these mediums get any information or help from "spirits." I know that for thousands of years people have believed in mediums—in Spiritualism. A spirit in the form of a man appeared to Samson's mother, and afterward to his father.
Spirits, or angels, called on Abraham. The witch of Endor raised the ghost of Samuel. An angel appeared with three men in the furnace. The handwriting on the wall was done by a spirit. A spirit appeared to Joseph in a dream, to the wise men and to Joseph again.
So a spirit, an angel or a god, spoke to Saul, and the same happened to Mary Magdalene.
The religious literature of the world is filled with such things. Take Spiritualism from Christianity and the whole edifice crumbles. All religions, so far as I know, are based on Spiritualism—on communications received from angels, from spirits.
I do not say that all the mediums, ancient and modern, were, and are, impostors—but I do think that all the honest ones were, and are, mistaken. I do not believe that man has ever received any communication from angels, spirits or gods. No whisper, as I believe, has ever come from any other world. The lips of the dead are always closed. From the grave there has come no voice. For thousands of years people have been questioning the dead. They have tried to catch the whisper of a vanished voice. Many say that they have succeeded. I do not know.
Question. What is the explanation of the startling knowledge displayed by some so-called "mediums" of the history and personal affairs of people who consult them? Is there any such thing as mind-reading or thought-transference?
Answer. In a very general way, I suppose that one person may read the thought of another—not definitely, but by the expression of the face, by the attitude of the body, some idea may be obtained as to what a person thinks, what he intends. So thought may be transferred by look or language, but not simply by will. Everything that is, is natural. Our ignorance is the soil in which mystery grows. I do not believe that thoughts are things that can been seen or touched. Each mind lives in a world of its own, a world that no other mind can enter. Minds, like ships at sea, give signs and signals to each other, but they do not exchange captains.
Question. Is there any such thing as telepathy? What is the explanation of the stories of mental impressions received at long distances?
Answer. There are curious coincidences. People sometimes happen to think of something that is taking place at a great distance. The stories about these happenings are not very well authenticated, and seem never to have been of the least use to anyone.
Question. Can these phenomena be considered aside from any connection with, or form of, superstition?
Answer. I think that mistake, emotion, nervousness, hysteria, dreams, love of the wonderful, dishonesty, ignorance, grief and the longing for immortality—the desire to meet the loved and lost, the horror of endless death—account for these phenomena. People often mistake their dreams for realities—often think their thoughts have "happened." They live in a mental mist, a mirage. The boundary between the actual and the imagined becomes faint, wavering and obscure. They mistake clouds for mountains. The real and the unreal mix and mingle until the impossible becomes common, and the natural absurd.
Question. Do you believe that any sane man ever had a vision?
Answer. Of course, the sane and insane have visions, dreams. I do not believe that any man, sane or insane, was ever visited by an angel or spirit, or ever received any information from the dead.
Question. Setting aside from consideration the so-called physical manifestations of the mediums, has Spiritualism offered any proof of the immortality of the soul?
Answer. Of course Spiritualism offers what it calls proof of immortality. That is its principal business. Thousands and thousands of good, honest, intelligent people think the proof sufficient. They receive what they believe to be messages from the departed, and now and then the spirits assume their old forms —including garments—and pass through walls and doors as light passes through glass. Do these things really happen? If the spirits of the dead do return, then the fact of another life is established. It all depends on the evidence. Our senses are easily deceived, and some people have more confidence in their reason than in their senses.
Question. Do you not believe that such a man as Robert Dale Owen was sincere? What was the real state of mind of the author of "Footfalls on the Boundaries of Another World"?
Answer. Without the slightest doubt, Robert Dale Owen was sincere. He was one of the best of men. His father labored all his life for the good of others. Robert Owen, the father, had a debate, in Cincinnati, with the Rev. Alexander Campbell, the founder of the Campbellite Church. Campbell was no match for Owen, and yet the audience was almost unanimously against Owen.
Robert Dale Owen was an intelligent, thoughtful, honest man. He was deceived by several mediums, but remained a believer. He wanted Spiritualism to be true. He hungered and thirsted for another life. He explained everything that was mysterious or curious by assuming the interference of spirits. He was a good man, but a poor investigator. He thought that people were all honest.
Question. What do you understand the Spiritualist means when he claims that the soul goes to the "Summer land," and there continues to work and evolute to higher planes?
Answer. No one pretends to know where "heaven" is. The celestial realm is the blessed somewhere in the unknown nowhere. So far as I know, the "Summer land" has no metes and bounds, and no one pretends to know exactly or inexactly where it is. After all, the "Summer land" is a hope—a wish. Spiritualists believe that a soul leaving this world passes into another, or into another state, and continues to grow in intelligence and virtue, if it so desires.
Spiritualists claim to prove that there is another life. Christians believe this, but their witnesses have been dead for many centuries. They take the "hearsay" of legend and ancient gossip; but Spiritualists claim to have living witnesses; witnesses that can talk, make music; that can take to themselves bodies and shake hands with the people they knew before they passed to the "other shore."
Question. Has Spiritualism, through its mediums, ever told the world anything useful, or added to the store of the world's knowledge, or relieved its burdens?
Answer. I do not know that any medium has added to the useful knowledge of the world, unless mediums have given evidence of another life. Mediums have told us nothing about astronomy, geology or history, have made no discoveries, no inventions, and have enriched no art. The same may be said of every religion.
All the orthodox churches believe in Spiritualism. Every now and then the Virgin appears to some peasant, and in the old days the darkness was filled with evil spirits. Christ was a Spiritualist, and his principal business was the casting out of devils. All of his disciples, all of the church fathers, all of the saints were believers in Spiritualism of the lowest and most ignorant type. During the Middle Ages people changed themselves, with the aid of spirits, into animals. They became wolves, dogs, cats and donkeys. In those day all the witches and wizards were mediums. So animals were sometimes taken possession of by spirits, the same as Balaam's donkey and Christ's swine. Nothing was too absurd for the Christians.
Question. Has not Spiritualism added to the world's stock of hope? And in what way has not Spiritualism done good?
Answer. The mother holding in her arms her dead child, believing that the babe has simply passed to another life, does not weep as bitterly as though she thought that death was the eternal end. A belief in Spiritualism must be a consolation. You see, the Spiritualists do not believe in eternal pain, and consequently a belief in immortality does not fill their hearts with fear.
Christianity makes eternal life an infinite horror, and casts the glare of hell on almost every grave.
The Spiritualists appear to be happy in their belief. I have never known a happy orthodox Christian.
It is natural to shun death, natural to desire eternal life. With all my heart I hope for everlasting life and joy—a life without failures, without crimes and tears.
If immortality could be established, the river of life would overflow with happiness. The faces of prisoners, of slaves, of the deserted, of the diseased and starving would be radiant with smiles, and the dull eyes of despair would glow with light.
If it could be established.
Let us hope.
—The Journal, New York, July 26, 1896.
Question. What is your opinion of the position taken by the United States in the Venezuelan dispute? How should the dispute be settled?
Answer. I do not think that we have any interest in the dispute between Venezuela and England. It was and is none of our business. The Monroe doctrine was not and is not in any way involved. Mr. Cleveland made a mistake and so did Congress.
Question. What should be the attitude of the church toward the stage?
Answer. It should be, what it always has been, against it. If the orthodox churches are right, then the stage is wrong. The stage makes people forget hell; and this puts their souls in peril. There will be forever a conflict between Shakespeare and the Bible.
Question. What do you think of the new woman?
Answer. I like her.
Question. Where rests the responsibility for the Armenian atrocities?
Answer. Religion is the cause of the hatred and bloodshed.
Question. What do you think of international marriages, as between titled foreigners and American heiresses?
Answer. My opinion is the same as is entertained by the American girl after the marriages. It is a great mistake.
Question. What do you think of England's Poet Laureate, Alfred Austin?
Answer. I have only read a few of his lines and they were not poetic. The office of Poet Laureate should be abolished. Men cannot write poems to order as they could deliver cabbages or beer. By poems I do not mean jingles of words. I mean great thoughts clothed in splendor.
Question. What is your estimate of Susan B. Anthony?
Answer. Miss Anthony is one of the most remarkable women in the world. She has the enthusiasm of youth and spring, the courage and sincerity of a martyr. She is as reliable as the attraction of gravitation. She is absolutely true to her conviction, intellectually honest, logical, candid and infinitely persistent. No human being has done more for women than Miss Anthony. She has won the respect and admiration of the best people on the earth. And so I say: Good luck and long life to Susan B. Anthony.
Question. Which did more for his country, George Washington or Abraham Lincoln?
Answer. In my judgment, Lincoln was the greatest man ever President. I put him above Washington and Jefferson. He had the genius of goodness; and he was one of the wisest and shrewdest of men. Lincoln towers above them all.
Question. What gave rise to the report that you had been converted —did you go to church somewhere?
Answer. I visited the "People's Church" in Kalamazoo, Michigan. This church has no creed. The object is to make people happy in this world. Miss Bartlett is the pastor. She is a remarkable woman and is devoting her life to good work. I liked her church and said so. This is all.
Question. Are there not some human natures so morally weak or diseased that they cannot keep from sin without the aid of some sort of religion?
Answer. I do not believe that the orthodox religion helps anybody to be just, generous or honest. Superstition is not the soil in which goodness grows. Falsehood is poor medicine.
Question. Would you consent to live in any but a Christian community? If you would, please name one.
Answer. I would not live in a community where all were orthodox Christians. I would rather dwell in Central Africa. If I could have my choice I would rather live among people who were free, who sought for truth and lived according to reason. Sometime there will be such a community.
Question. Is the noun "United States" singular or plural, as you use English?
Answer. I use it in the singular.
Question. Have you read Nordau's "Degeneracy"? If so, what do you think of it?
Answer. I think it is substantially insane.
Question. What do you think of Bishop Doane's advocacy of free rum as a solution of the liquor problem?
Answer. I am a believer in liberty. All the temperance legislation, all the temperance societies, all the agitation, all these things have done no good.
Question. Do you agree with Mr. Carnegie that a college education is of little or no practical value to a man?
Answer. A man must have education. It makes no difference where or how he gets it. To study the dead languages is time wasted so far as success in business is concerned. Most of the colleges in this country are poor because controlled by theologians.
Question. What suggestion would you make for the improvement of the newspapers of this country?
Answer. Every article in a newspaper should be signed by the writer. And all writers should do their best to tell the exact facts.
Question. What do you think of Niagara Falls?
Answer. It is a dangerous place. Those great rushing waters— there is nothing attractive to me in them. There is so much noise; so much tumult. It is simply a mighty force of nature—one of those tremendous powers that is to be feared for its danger. What I like in nature is a cultivated field, where men can work in the free open air, where there is quiet and repose—no turmoil, no strife, no tumult, no fearful roar or struggle for mastery. I do not like the crowded, stuffy workshop, where life is slavery and drudgery. Give me the calm, cultivated land of waving grain, of flowers, of happiness.
Question. What is worse than death?
Answer. Oh, a great many things. To be dishonored. To be worthless. To feel that you are a failure. To be insane. To be constantly afraid of the future. To lose the ones you love.
—The Herald, Rochester, New York, February 25, 1896.
Question. With all your experiences, the trials, the responsibilities, the disappointments, the heartburnings, Colonel, is life worth living?
Answer. Well, I can only answer for myself. I like to be alive, to breathe the air, to look at the landscape, the clouds and stars, to repeat old poems, to look at pictures and statues, to hear music, the voices of the ones I love. I like to talk with my wife, my girls, my grandchildren. I like to sleep and to dream. Yes, you can say that life, to me, is worth living.
Question. Colonel, did you ever kill any game?
Answer. When I was a boy I killed two ducks, and it hurt me as much as anything I ever did. No, I would not kill any living creature. I am sometimes tempted to kill a mosquito on my hand, but I stop and think what a wonderful construction it has, and shoo it away.
Question. What do you think of political parties, Colonel?
Answer. In a country where the sovereignty is divided among the people, that is to say, among the men, in order to accomplish anything, many must unite, and I believe in joining the party that is going the nearest your way. I do not believe in being the slave or serf or servant of a party. Go with it if it is going your road, and when the road forks, take the one that leads to the place you wish to visit, no matter whether the party goes that way or not. I do not believe in belonging to a party or being the property of any organization. I do not believe in giving a mortgage on yourself or a deed of trust for any purpose whatever. It is better to be free and vote wrong than to be a slave and vote right. I believe in taking the chances. At the same time, as long as a party is going my way, I believe in placing that party above particular persons, and if that party nominates a man that I despise, I will vote for him if he is going my way. I would rather have a bad man belonging to my party in place, than a good man belonging to the other, provided my man believes in my principles, and to that extent I believe in party loyalty.
Neither do I join in the general hue and cry against bosses. There has always got to be a leader, even in a flock of wild geese. If anything is to be accomplished, no matter what, somebody takes the lead and the others allow him to go on. In that way political bosses are made, and when you hear a man howling against bosses at the top of his lungs, distending his cheeks to the bursting point, you may know that he has ambition to become a boss.
I do not belong to the Republican party, but I have been going with it, and when it goes wrong I shall quit, unless the other is worse. There is no office, no place, that I want, and as it does not cost anything to be right, I think it better to be that way.
Question. What is your idea of Christian Science?
Answer. I think it is superstition, pure and unadulterated. I think that soda will cure a sour stomach better than thinking. In my judgment, quinine is a better tonic than meditation. Of course cheerfulness is good and depression bad, but if you can absolutely control the body and all its functions by thought, what is the use of buying coal? Let the mercury go down and keep yourself hot by thinking. What is the use of wasting money for food? Fill your stomach with think. According to these Christian Science people all that really exists is an illusion, and the only realities are the things that do not exist. They are like the old fellow in India who said that all things were illusions. One day he was speaking to a crowd on his favorite hobby. Just as he said "all is illusion" a fellow on an elephant rode toward him. The elephant raised his trunk as though to strike, thereupon the speaker ran away. Then the crowd laughed. In a few moments the speaker returned. The people shouted: "If all is illusion, what made you run away?" The speaker replied: "My poor friends, I said all is illusion. I say so still. There was no elephant. I did not run away. You did not laugh, and I am not explaining now. All is illusion."
That man must have been a Christian Scientist.
—The Inter-Ocean, Chicago, November, 1897.
Answer. Because, as it is generally practiced, it is an unspeakable cruelty. Because it hardens the hearts and demoralizes those who inflict useless and terrible pains on the bound and helpless. If these vivisectionists would give chloroform or ether to the animals they dissect; if they would render them insensible to pain, and if, by cutting up these animals, they could learn anything worth knowing, no one would seriously object.
The trouble is that these doctors, these students, these professors, these amateurs, do not give anesthetics. They insist that to render the animal insensible does away with the value of the experiment. They care nothing for the pain they inflict. They are so eager to find some fact that will be of benefit to the human race, that they are utterly careless of the agony endured.
Now, what I say is that no decent man, no gentleman, no civilized person, would vivisect an animal without first having rendered that animal insensible to pain. The doctor, the scientist, who puts his knives, forceps, chisels and saws into the flesh, bones and nerves of an animal without having used an anesthetic, is a savage, a pitiless, heartless monster. When he says he does this for the good of man, because he wishes to do good, he says what is not true. No such man wants to do good; he commits the crime for his own benefit and because he wishes to gratify an insane cruelty or to gain a reputation among like savages.
These scientists now insist that they have done some good. They do not tell exactly what they have done. The claim is general in its character—not specific. If they have done good, could they not have done just as much if they had used anesthetics? Good is not the child of cruelty.
Question. Do you think that the vivisectionists do their work without anesthetics? Do they not, as a rule, give something to deaden pain?
Answer. Here is what the trouble is. Now and then one uses chloroform, but the great majority do not. They claim that it interferes with the value of the experiment, and, as I said before, they object to the expense. Why should they care for what the animals suffer? They inflict the most horrible and useless pain, and they try the silliest experiments—experiments of no possible use or advantage.
For instance: They flay a dog to see how long he can live without his skin. Is this trifling experiment of any importance? Suppose the dog can live a week or a month or a year, what then? What must the real character of the scientific wretch be who would try an experiment like this? Is such a man seeking the good of his fellow- men?
So, these scientists starve animals until they slowly die; watch them from day to day as life recedes from the extremities, and watch them until the final surrender, to see how long the heart will flutter without food; without water. They keep a diary of their sufferings, of their whinings and moanings, of their insanity. And this diary is published and read with joy and eagerness by other scientists in like experiments. Of what possible use is it to know how long a dog or horse can live without food?
So, they take animals, dogs and horses, cut through the flesh with the knife, remove some of the back bone with the chisel, then divide the spinal marrow, then touch it with red hot wires for the purpose of finding, as they say, the connection of nerves; and the animal, thus vivisected, is left to die.
A good man will not voluntarily inflict pain. He will see that his horse has food, if he can procure it, and if he cannot procure the food, he will end the sufferings of the animal in the best and easiest way. So, the good man would rather remain in ignorance as to how pain is transmitted than to cut open the body of a living animal, divide the marrow and torture the nerves with red hot iron. Of what use can it be to take a dog, tie him down and cut out one of his kidneys to see if he can live with the other?
These horrors are perpetrated only by the cruel and the heartless —so cruel and so heartless that they are utterly unfit to be trusted with a human life. They inoculate animals with a virus of disease; they put poison in their eyes until rottenness destroys the sight; until the poor brutes become insane. They given them a disease that resembles hydrophobia, that is accompanied by the most frightful convulsions and spasms. They put them in ovens to see what degree of heat it is that kills. They also try the effect of cold; they slowly drown them; they poison them with the venom of snakes; they force foreign substances into their blood, and, by inoculation, into their eyes; and then watch and record their agonies; their sufferings.
Question. Don't you think that some good has been accomplished, some valuable information obtained, by vivisection?
Answer. I don't think any valuable information has been obtained by the vivisection of animals without chloroform that could not have been obtained with chloroform. And to answer the question broadly as to whether any good has been accomplished by vivisection, I say no.
According to the best information that I can obtain, the vivisectors have hindered instead of helped. Lawson Tait, who stands at the head of his profession in England, the best surgeon in Great Britain, says that all this cutting and roasting and freezing and torturing of animals has done harm instead of good. He says publicly that the vivisectors have hindered the progress of surgery. He declares that they have not only done no good, but asserts that they have done only harm. The same views according to Doctor Tait, are entertained by Bell, Syme and Fergusson.
Many have spoken of Darwin as though he were a vivisector. This is not true. All that has been accomplished by these torturers of dumb and helpless animals amounts to nothing. We have obtained from these gentlemen Koch's cure for consumption, Pasteur's factory of hydrophobia and Brown-Sequard's elixir of life. These three failures, gigantic, absurd, ludicrous, are the great accomplishment of vivisection.
Surgery has advanced, not by the heartless tormentors of animals, but by the use of anesthetics—that is to say, chloroform, ether and cocaine. The cruel wretches, the scientific assassins, have accomplished nothing. Hundreds of thousands of animals have suffered every pain that nerves can feel, and all for nothing—nothing except to harden the heart and to make criminals of men.
They have not given anesthetics to these animals, but they have been guilty of the last step in cruelty. They have given curare, a drug that attacks the centers of motion, that makes it impossible for the animal to move, so that when under its influence, no matter what the pain may be, the animal lies still. This curare not only destroys the power of motion, but increases the sensitiveness of the nerves. To give this drug and then to dissect the living animal is the extreme of cruelty. Beyond this, heartlessness cannot go.
Question. Do you know that you have been greatly criticized for what you have said on this subject?
Answer. Yes; I have read many criticisms; but what of that. It is impossible for the ingenuity of man to say anything in defence of cruelty—of heartlessness. So, it is impossible for the defenders of vivisection to show any good that has been accomplished without the use of anesthetics. The chemist ought to be able to determine what is and what is not poison. There is no need of torturing the animals. So, this giving to animals diseases is of no importance to man—not the slightest; and nothing has been discovered in bacteriology so far that has been of use or that is of benefit.
Personally, I admit that all have the right to criticise; and my answer to the critics is, that they do not know the facts; or, knowing them, they are interested in preventing a knowledge of these facts coming to the public. Vivisection should be controlled by law. No animal should be allowed to be tortured. And to cut up a living animal not under the influence of chloroform or ether, should be a penitentiary offence.
A perfect reply to all the critics who insist that great good has been done is to repeat the three names—Koch, Pasteur and Brown- Sequard.
The foundation of civilization is not cruelty; it is justice, generosity, mercy.
—Evening Telegram, New York, September 30, 1893.