s is also untrue. Experiments of the kind have been done by
other vivisectors, and they are recorded in their own reports. For
example, de Sinety of Paris tells us in his "Manuel Pratique de
Gynecologie" (Paris, 1879, p. 778), that upon female guinea-pigs, he
had practised "l'ablation de ces glands pendant la lactation."[1]
Another French vivisector, Dr. Paul Bert, states that he had not only
performed "l'ablation des mamelles chez une femelle de cochon d'Inde,"
but that he had succeeded in performing the operation on a female
goat. The poor creature recovered from the vivisection, and later,
gave birth to a kid, which was placed with the mother. What would
happen to a new-born animal placed at the side of a mother whose
breasts had been cut off?

"Le petit, animal, voulant teter, et trouvant pas de mamelles, a donne
de violent coups de te^te dans le re'gion mammaire...."[2]

[1] In a reference to de Sinety's vivisections at page 171, in the
present volume, there is a slight mistake. Although de Sinety, as
shown above, had practised the ablation of the mammary glands during
lactation, it would seem that mutilation rather than complete ablation
preceded his experiments on the innervation of the mammary nerve. The
sentence should read "cut into the breasts," and not "removed the
breasts." He tells us that he made a considerable number of
experiments of the kind upon female guinea-pigs. In one of them, for
example, he laid bare the nerve and isolated it with a thread,--"le
nerf mammaire d'un co^te est mis a` nu, et isole," and that when the
electric current was used, extreme pain,--"un douleur tre`s vivre" was
excited, notwithstanding which the excitation was continued for ten
minutes. (Gazette Me'd. de Paris, for 1879, p. 593).
[2] Comptes Rendus de la Soc. de Biologie, Paris, 1883, p. 778.

There is no need of completing the description. It was an experiment
absolutely useless and without justification. We may confess that we
read of such useless cruelties of experiment only with infinite
disgust.

No matter how careful a writer may be, it is very rare that he
escapes, from unfriendly readers, the imputation of inaccuracy.
Against writers of history--men like Froude, Macaulay, or Carlyle--the
same charge has been made. But a critic whose microscopic eye
discerns inaccuracy in others should be very careful to make no
similar errors himself. The mistake upon which he has dwelt, was due
to reliance upon the