SUSPENDED ANIMATION.

Some time since an article appeared in the _Times_, quoted from the

_Brisbane Courier_ (an Australian paper of good credit), stating that

one Signor Rotura had devised a plan by which animals might be congealed

for weeks or months without being actually deprived of life, so that

they might be shipped from Australia for English ports as dead meat, yet

on their arrival here be restored to full life and activity. Many

regarded this account as intended to be received seriously, though a few

days later an article appeared, the opening words of which implied that

only persons from north of the Tweed should have taken the article _au

grand serieux_. Of course it was a hoax; but it is worthy of notice that

the editor of the _Brisbane Courier_ had really been misled, as he

admitted a few weeks later, with a candour which did him credit.[70]

This wonderful discovery, however, besides being worth publishing as a

joke (though rather a mischievous one, as will presently be shown), did

good service also by eliciting from a distinguished physician certain

statements respecting the possibility of suspending animation, which

otherwise might have remained for some time unpublished. I propose here

to consider these statements, and the strange possibilities which some

of them seem to suggest. In the first place, however, it may be worth

while to recall the chief statements in the clever Australian story, as

some of Dr. Richardson's statements refer specially to that narrative. I

shall take the opportunity of indicating certain curious features of

resemblance between the Australian story, which really had its origin in

America (I am assured that it was published a year earlier in a New York

paper), and an American hoax which acquired a wide celebrity some forty

years ago, the so-called Lunar Hoax. As it is certain that the two

stories came from different persons, the resemblance referred to seems

to suggest that the special mental qualities (defects, _bien entendu_)

which cause some to take delight in such inventions, are commonly

associated with a characteristic style of writing. If Buffon was right,

indeed, in saying, _Le style c'est de l'homme meme_, we can readily

understand that clever hoaxers should thus have a style peculiar to

themselves.

It can hardly be considered essential to the right comprehension of

scientific experiments that a picturesque account should be given of the

place where the experiments were made. The history of the wonderful

Australian discovery opens nevertheless as follows:--"Many of the

readers of the _Brisbane Courier_ who know Sydney Harbour will remember

the long inlet opposite the heads known as Middle Harbour, which, in a

succession of land-locked reaches, stretches away like a chain of lakes

for over twenty miles. On one of these reaches, made more than

ordinarily picturesque by the bold headlands that drop almost sheer into

the water, stand, on about an acre of grassy flat, fringed by white

beach on which the clear waters of the harbour lap, two low brick

buildings. Here, in perfect seclusion, and with a careful avoidance of

publicity, is being conducted an experiment, the success of which, now

established beyond any doubt, must have a wider effect upon the future

prosperity of Australia than any project ever contemplated." It was

precisely in this tone that the author of the "Lunar Hoax"[71] opened

his account of those "recent discoveries in astronomy which will build

an imperishable monument to the age in which we live, and confer upon

the present generation of the human race a proud distinction through all

future time." "It has been poetically said," he remarks--though probably

he would have found some difficulty in saying where or by whom this had

been said,--"that the stars of heaven are the hereditary regalia of man,

as the intellectual sovereign of the animal creation; he may now fold

the zodiac around him with a loftier consciousness of his mental

supremacy" (a sublime idea, irresistibly suggestive of the description

which an American humourist gave of a certain actor's representation of

the death of Richard III., "he wrapped the star-spangled banner round

him, and died like the son of a hoss").

It next becomes necessary to describe the persons engaged in pursuing

the experiments by which the art of freezing animals alive is to be

attained. "The gentlemen engaged in this enterprise are Signor Rotura,

whose researches into the botany and natural history of South America

have rendered his name eminent; and Mr. James Grant, a pupil of the late

Mr. Nicolle, so long associated with Mr. Thomas Mort in his freezing

process. Next to the late Mr. Nicolle, Mr. James Grant can claim

pre-eminence of knowledge in the science of generating cold, and his

freezing chamber at Woolhara has long been known as the seat of valuable

experiments originated in his, Mr. Nicolle's, lifetime." Is it merely an

accident, by the way, or is it due to the circumstance that exceptional

powers of invention in general matters are often found in company with

singular poverty of invention as to details, that two of the names here

mentioned closely resemble names connected with the Lunar Hoax? It was

Nicollet who in reality devised the Lunar Hoax, though Richard Alton

Locke, the reputed author, probably gave to the story its final form;

and, again, the story purported to come from Dr. Grant, of Glasgow. In

the earlier narrative, again, as in the later, due care was taken to

impress readers with the belief that those who had made the discovery,

or taken part in the work, were worthy of all confidence. Sir W.

Herschel was the inventor of the optical device by which the inhabitants

of the moon were to be rendered visible, a plan which "evinced the most

profound research in optical science, and the most dexterous ingenuity

in mechanical contrivance. But his son, Sir John Herschel, nursed and

cradled in the observatory, and a practical astronomer from his boyhood,

determined upon testing it at whatever cost." Among his companions he

had "Dr. Andrew Grant, Lieutenant Drummond of the Royal Engineers, and a

large party of the best English mechanics."

The accounts of preliminary researches, doubts, and difficulties are in

both cases very similar in tone. "It appears that five months ago," says

the narrator of the Australian hoax, "Signor Rotura called upon Mr.

Grant to invoke his assistance in a scheme for the transmission of live

stock to Europe. Signor Rotura averred that he had discovered a South

American vegetable poison, allied to the well-known _woolara_ (_sic_)

that had the power of perfectly suspending animation, and that the

trance thus produced continued until the application of another

vegetable essence caused the blood to resume its circulation and the

heart its functions. So perfect, moreover, was this suspension of life

that Signor Rotura had found in a warm climate decomposition set in at

the extremities after a week of this living death, and he imagined that

if the body in this inert state were reduced to a temperature

sufficiently low to arrest decomposition, the trance might be kept up

for months, possibly for years. He frankly owned that he had never tried

this preserving of the tissues by cold, and could not confidently speak

as to its effect upon the after-restoration of the animal operated on.

Before he left Mr. Grant he had turned that gentleman's doubts into

wondering curiosity by experimenting on his dog." The account of this

experiment I defer for a moment till I have shown how closely in several

respects this portion of the Australian hoax resembles the corresponding

part of the American story. It will be observed that the great discovery

is presented as simply a very surprising development of a process which

is strictly within the limits, not only of what is possible, but of what

is known. So also in the case of the Lunar Hoax, the amazing magnifying

power by which living creatures in the moon were said to have been

rendered visible, was presented as simply a very remarkable development

of the familiar properties of the telescope. In both cases, the

circumstances which in reality limit the possible extension of the

properties in question were kept conveniently concealed from view. In

both cases, doubts and difficulties were urged with an apparent

frankness intended to disarm suspicion. In both cases, also, the

inventor of the new method by which difficulties were to be overcome is

represented as in conference with a man of nearly equal skill, who urges

the doubts naturally suggested by the wonderful nature of the promised

achievements. In the Lunar Hoax, Sir John Herschel and Sir David

Brewster are thus represented in conference. Herschel asks whether the

difficulty arising from deficient illumination may not be overcome by

effecting a transfusion of artificial light through the focal image.

Brewster, startled at the novel thought, as he well might be,

hesitatingly refers "to the refrangibility of rays and the angle of

incidence," which is effective though glorious in its absurdity. (Yet it

has been gravely asserted that this nonsense deceived Arago.) "Sir John,

grown more confident, adduced the example of the Newtonian reflector, in

which the refrangibility was arrested by the second speculum and the

angle of incidence restored by the third" (a bewilderingly ridiculous

statement). "'And,' continued he, 'why cannot the illuminated

microscope, say the hydro-oxygen, be applied to render distinct, and if

necessary even to magnify, the focal object?' Sir David sprang from his

chair in an ecstasy of conviction, and leaping half-way to the ceiling"

(from which we may infer that he was somewhat more than _tete montee_),

"exclaimed, 'Thou art the man!'"

The method devised in each case being once accepted as sound, the rest

of course readily follows. In the case of the Lunar Hoax a number of

discoveries are made which need not here be described[72] (though I

shall take occasion presently to quote some passages relating to them

which closely resemble in style certain passages in the Australian

narrative). In the later hoax, the illustrative experiments are

forthwith introduced. Signor Rotura, having so far persuaded Mr. Grant

of the validity of the plan as to induce him to allow a favourite dog to

be experimented upon, "injected two drops of his liquid, mixed with a

little glycerine, into a small puncture made in the dog's ear. In three

or four minutes the animal was perfectly rigid, the four legs stretched

backward, eyes wide open, pupils very much dilated, and exhibiting

symptoms very similar to those caused by strychnine, except that there

had been no previous struggle or pain. Begging his owner to have no

apprehension for the life of his favourite animal, Signor Rotura lifted

the dog carefully and placed him on a shelf in a cupboard, where he

begged he might be left till the following day, when he promised to call

at ten o'clock and revive the apparently dead brute. Mr. Grant

continually during that day and night visited the cupboard, and so

perfectly was life suspended in his favourite--no motion of the pulse or

heart giving any indication of the possibility of revival--that he

confesses he felt all the sharpest reproaches of remorse at having

sacrificed a faithful friend to a doubtful and dangerous experiment. The

temperature of the body, too, in the first four hours gradually lowered

to 25 degrees Fahrenheit below ordinary blood temperature, which

increased his fears as to the result; and by morning the body was as

cold as in natural death. At ten o'clock next morning, according to

promise, Signor Rotura presented himself, and laughing at Mr. Grant's

fears, requested a tub of warm water to be brought. He tested this with

the thermometer at 32 degrees Fahrenheit" (which, being the temperature

of freezing water, can hardly be called warm), "and in this laid the

dog, head under." In reply to Mr. Grant's objections Signor Rotura

assured him that, as animation must remain entirely suspended until the

administration of the antidote, no water could be drawn into the lungs,

and that the immersion of the body was simply to bring it again to a

blood-heat. After about ten minutes of this bath the body was taken out,

and another liquid injected in a puncture made in the neck. "Mr. Grant

tells me," proceeds the veracious narrator, "that the revival of Turk

was the most startling thing he ever witnessed; and having since seen

the experiment made upon a sheep, I can fully confirm his statement. The

dog first showed the return of life in the eye" (winking, doubtless, at

the joke), "and after five and a half minutes he drew a long breath, and

the rigidity left his limbs. In a few minutes more he commenced gently

wagging his tail, and then slowly got up, stretched himself, and trotted

off as though nothing had happened." From this moment Mr. Grant had full

faith in Signor Rotura's discovery, and promised him all the assistance

in his power. They next determined to try freezing the body. But the

first two experiments were not encouraging. Mr. Grant fortunately did

not allow his favourite dog to be experimented upon further, so a

strange dog was put into the freezing room at Mr. Grant's works for four

days, after having in the first place had his animation suspended by

Signor Rotura. Although this animal survived so far as to draw a long

breath, the vital energies appeared too exhausted for a complete rally,

and the animal died. So also did the next two animals experimented on,

a cat and a dog. "In the meantime, however, Dr. Barker had been taken

into their counsels, and at his suggestion respiration was encouraged,

as in the case of persons drowned, by artificial compression and

expansion of the lungs. Dr. Barker was of opinion that, as the heart in

every case began to beat, it was a want of vital force to set the lungs

in proper motion that caused death. The result showed his surmises to be

entirely correct. A number of animals whose lives had been sealed up in

this artificial death have been kept in the freezing chamber from one to

five weeks, and it is found that though the shock to the system from

this freezing is very great, it is not increased by duration of time."

I need not follow the hoaxer's account of the buildings erected for the

further prosecution of these researches. One point, however, may be

mentioned illustrating the resemblance to which I have already referred

as existing between this Australian narrative and the Lunar Hoax. In

describing the works erected at Middle Harbour, the Australian account

carefully notes that the necessary funds were provided by Mr.

Christopher Newton, of Pitt Street. In like manner, in the Lunar Hoax we

are told that the plate-glass required for the optical arrangement

devised by Sir J. Herschel was "obtained, by consent be it observed,

from the shop-window of M. Desanges, the jeweller to his ex-majesty

Charles X., in High Street."

Now comes the culminating experiment, the circumstances of which are the

more worthy of being carefully noted, because it is distinctly stated by

Dr. Richardson that none of the experiments described in this narrative,

apocryphal though they may really be, can be regarded as beyond the

range of scientific possibilities:--"Arrived at the works in Middle

Harbour, I was taken into the building that contains Mr. Grant's

apparatus for generating cold.... Attached to this is the freezing

chamber, a small, dark room, about eight feet by ten. Here were fourteen

sheep, four lambs, and three pigs, stacked on their sides in a heap,

_alive_, which Mr. Grant told me had been in their present position for

nineteen days, and were to remain there for another three months.

Selecting one of the lambs, Signor Rotura put it on his shoulder, and

carried it outside into the other building, where a number of shallow

cemented tanks were in the floor, having hot and cold water taps to each

tank, with a thermometer hanging alongside. One of these tanks was

quickly filled, and its temperature tested by the Signor, I meantime

examining with the greatest curiosity and wonder the nineteen-days-dead

lamb. The days of miracles truly seem to have come back to us, and many

of those stories discarded as absurdities seem to me less improbable

than this fact, witnessed by myself. There was the lamb, to all

appearance dead, and as hard almost as a stone, the only difference

perceptible to me between his condition and actual death being the

absence of dull glassiness about the eye, which still retained its

brilliant transparency. Indeed, this brilliancy of the eye, which is

heightened by the enlargement of the pupil, is very striking, and lends

a rather weird appearance to the bodies. The lamb was gently dropped

into the warm bath, and was allowed to remain in it about twenty-three

minutes, its head being raised above the water twice for the

introduction of the thermometer into its mouth, and then it was taken

out and placed on its side on the floor, Signor Rotura quickly dividing

the wool on its neck, and inserting the sharp point of a small silver

syringe under the skin and injecting the antidote. This was a pale green

liquid, and, as I believe, a decoction from the root of the

_Astracharlis_, found in South America. The lamb was then turned on its

back, Signor Rotura standing across it, gently compressing its ribs with

his knees and hands in such a manner as to imitate their natural

depression and expansion during breathing. In ten minutes the animal was

struggling to free itself, and when released skipped out through the

door and went gambolling and bleating over the little garden in front.

Nothing has ever impressed me so entirely with a sense of the

marvellous. One is almost tempted to ask, in the presence of such a

discovery, whether death itself may not ultimately be baffled by

scientific investigation." In the Lunar Hoax there is a passage

resembling in tone the lively account of the lamb's behaviour when

released. Herds of agile creatures like antelopes were seen in the moon,

"abounding in the acclivitous glades of the woods." "This beautiful

creature afforded us," says the narrator, "the most exquisite amusement.

The mimicry of its movements upon our white-painted canvas was as

faithful and luminous as that of animals within a few yards of the

_camera obscura_. Frequently, when attempting to put our fingers upon

its beard, it would suddenly bound away, as if conscious of our earthly

impertinence; but then others would appear, whom we could not prevent

nibbling the herbage, say or do to them what we would." And again, a

little further on, "We fairly laughed at the recognition of so familiar

an acquaintance as a sheep in so distant a land--a good large sheep,

which would not have disgraced the farms of Leicestershire or the

shambles of Leadenhall Market; presently they appeared in great numbers,

and on reducing the lenses we found them in flocks over a great part of

the valley. I need not say how desirous we were of finding shepherds to

these flocks, and even a man with blue apron and rolled-up sleeves would

have been a welcome sight to us, if not to the sheep; but they fed in

peace, lords of their own pastures, without either protector or

destroyer in human shape."

Not less amusing, though more gravely written, is the account of the

benefits likely to follow from the use of the wonderful process for

freezing animals alive. Cargoes of live sheep can be readily sent from

Australia to Europe. Any that cannot be restored to life will still be

good meat; while the rest can be turned to pasture or driven alive to

market. With bullocks the case would not be quite so simple, because of

their greater size and weight, which would render them more difficult

to handle with safety. The carcass being rendered brittle by freezing,

they are so much the more liable to injury. "It sounded odd to hear Mr.

Grant and Signor Rotura laying stress upon the danger of breakage in a

long voyage." This one can readily imagine.

Some of the remoter consequences of the discovery are touched on by the

narrator, though but lightly, as if he saw the necessity of keeping his

wonders within reasonable limits. Signor Rotura, "though he had never

attempted his experiment on a human being," which was considerate on his

part, "had no doubt at all as to its perfect safety." He had requested

Sir Henry Parkes to allow him to operate on the next felon under capital

sentence. This, by the way, was a compromising statement on our hoaxer's

part. It requires very little acquaintance with our laws to know that no

one could allow a felon condemned to death to be experimented on in this

or in any other manner. Such a man is condemned to die, and to die

without any preliminary tortures, bodily or mental, other than those

inseparable from the legally adopted method of bringing death about. He

can neither be allowed to remain alive after an experiment, and

necessarily free (because he has not been condemned to other punishment

than the death penalty), nor can he be first experimented upon and then

hanged. So that that single sentence in the narrative should have shown

every one that it was a hoax, even if the inherent absurdity of many

other parts of the story had not shown this very clearly. As to whether

a temporary suspension of the vital faculties would affect the longevity

of the patient, Signor Rotura expressed himself somewhat doubtful; he

believed, however, that the duration of life might in this way be

prolonged for years. "I was anxious," says the hoaxer, "to know if a

period of, say, five years of this inertness were submitted to, whether

it would be so much cut out of one's life, or if it would be simply five

years of unconscious existence tacked on to one's sentient life. Signor

Rotura could give no positive answer, but he believes, as no change

takes place or can take place while this frozen trance continues, no

consumption, destruction, or reparation of tissue being possible, it

would be so many unvalued and profitless years added to a lifetime." Of

some of the strange ideas suggested by this conception I shall take

occasion to speak further on; I must for the present turn, however, from

the consideration of this ingenious hoax to discuss the scientific

possibilities which underlie the narrative, or at least some parts of

the narrative.

In the first place, it must be noticed that in the phenomena of

hibernation we have what at a first view seems closely to resemble the

results of Signor Rotura's apocryphal experiments. As was remarked in

the _Times_, the idea underlying the Australian story is that the

hibernation of animals can be artificially imitated and extended, so

that as certain animals lie in a state of torpor and insensibility

throughout the winter months, all animals also may perhaps be caused to

lie in such a state for an indefinite length of time, if only a suitable

degree of cold is maintained, and some special contrivance adopted to

prevent insensibility from passing into death. The phenomena of

hibernation are indeed so surprising, when rightly understood, that

inexperienced persons might well believe in almost any wonders resulting

from the artificial production (which, be it remembered, is altogether

possible) of the hibernating condition, and the artificial extension of

this condition to other animals than those which at present hibernate,

and to long periods of time. It has been justly said, that if

hibernation had only been noticed among cold-blooded animals, its

possibility in the case of mammals would have seemed inconceivable. The

first news that the bat and hedgehog pass into the state of complete

hibernation, would probably have bean received as either a daring hoax

or a very gross blunder.

Let us consider what hibernation really is. When, as winter approaches

and their insect food disappears, the bat and the hedgehog resign

themselves to torpor, the processes which we are in the habit of

associating with vitality gradually diminish in activity. The breathing

becomes slower and slower, the heart beats more and more slowly, more

and more feebly. At last the breathing ceases altogether. The

circulation does not wholly cease, however. So far as is known, the life

of warm-blooded animals cannot continue after the circulation has

entirely ceased for more than a certain not very considerable length of

time.[73] The chemical changes on which animal heat depends, and without

which there can be no active vitality, cease with the cessation of

respiration. But dormant vitality is still maintained in hibernation,

because the heart's fibre, excited to contract by the carbonized blood,

continues to propel the blood through the torpid body. This slow

circulation of venous blood continues during the whole period of

hibernation. It is the only vital process which can be recognised; and

it is not easy to understand how the life of any warm-blooded animal can

be maintained in this way. The explanation usually offered is that the

material conveyed by the absorbents suffices to counterbalance the

process of waste occasioned by the slow circulation. But this does not

in reality touch the chief difficulty presented by the phenomena of

hibernation. So far as mere waste is concerned (as I have elsewhere

pointed out) the imagined Australian process is as effectual as

hibernation; in that process, of course the circulation would be as

completely checked as the respiration; thus there would be no waste, and

the absorbents (which would also be absolutely dormant) would not have

to do even that slight amount of work which they accomplish during

hibernation. Science can only say that the known cases of hibernation

among warm-blooded animals show that the vital forces may be reduced

much lower without destroying life, than but for them we should have

deemed conceivable.

But next let us consider what science has to say as to the artificial

suspension of vitality. In Dr. Richardson's paper on this subject there

is much which seems almost as surprising as anything in the Australian

story. Indeed, he seems scarcely to have felt assured that that story

really was a hoax. "The statements," he says, "which, under the head of

'A Wonderful Discovery,' are copied from the _Brisbane Courier_, seem

greatly to have astonished the reading public. To what extent the

statements are true or untrue it is impossible to say. The whole may be

a cleverly-written fiction, and certain of the words and names used

seem, according to some readers, to suggest that view; but be this so or

not, I wish to indicate that some part at all events of what is stated

might be true, and is certainly within the range of possibility." "The

discovery," he proceeds, "which is described in the communication under

notice, is not in principle new; on the subject of suspension of

animation I have myself been making experimental inquiries for

twenty-five years at least, and have communicated to the scientific

world many essays, lectures, and demonstrations, relating to it. I have

twice read papers bearing on this inquiry to the Royal Society, once to

the British Association for the Advancement of Science, two or three

times in my lectures on Experimental and Practical Medicine, and

published one in _Nature_. In respect to the particular point of the

preservation of animal bodies for food, I dwelt on this topic in the

lectures delivered before the Society of Arts, in April and May of last

year (1878), explaining very definitely that the course of research in

the direction of preservation must ultimately lead to a process by which

we should keep the structures of animals in a form of suspended

molecular life." In other words, Dr. Richardson had indicated the

possibility of doing precisely that which would have constituted the

chief value of the Australian discovery, if this had been real.

Let us next consider what is known respecting the possibility of

suspending a conscious and active life. This is first stated in general

terms by Dr. Richardson, as follows:--"If an animal perfectly free from

disease be subjected to the action of some chemical agents or physical

agencies which have the property of reducing to the extremest limit the

motor forces of the body, the muscular irritability, and the nervous

stimulus to muscular action, and if the suspension of the muscular

irritability and of the nervous excitation be made at once and equally,

the body even of a warm-blooded animal may be brought down to a

condition so closely resembling death, that the most careful examination

may fail to detect any signs of life." This general statement must be

carefully studied if the reader desires thoroughly to understand at once

the power and the limits of the power of science in this direction. The

motor forces, the muscular irritability, and the nervous stimulus to

muscular action, can be reduced to a certain extent without destroying

life, but not absolutely without destroying life. The reduction of the

muscular irritability must be made at once and equally; if the muscular

irritability is reduced to its lowest limit while the nervous

excitation remains unaltered, or is less reduced, death ensues; and

_vice versa_, if the nervous excitation is reduced to its lowest limits

while the muscular irritability remains unaltered, or is little reduced,

death equally follows. Then it is to be noticed that though when the

state of seeming death is brought about, the most careful examination

may fail to detect any signs of life, it does not follow that science

may not find perfectly sure means of detecting cases where life still

exists but is at its very lowest. Of course all the ordinary tests, in

which so many place complete reliance--a mirror placed close to the

mouth, a finger on the pulse, hand, or ear applied to the breast[74]

over the heart, and so forth--would be utterly inadequate, in such a

case, to reveal any signs of life. That doctors have been deceived by

cases of suspended vitality not artificially produced, but presenting

similar phenomena, is well known. A case in point may not be out of

place here, as illustrating well certain features of suspended

animation, and showing the possibility that in _some_ cases

consciousness may remain, even when the most careful examination detects

no traces of life. The case is described by Dr. Alexander Crichton, in

his "Inquiry into the Nature and Origin of Mental Derangement." "A young

lady, who had seemed gradually to sink until she died, had been placed

in her coffin, careful scrutiny revealing no signs of vitality. On the

day appointed for her funeral, several hymns were sung before her door.

She was conscious of all that happened around her, and heard her friends

lamenting her death. She felt them put on the dead-clothes, and lay her

in the coffin, which produced an indescribable mental anxiety. She tried

to cry, but her mind was without power, and could not act on the body.

It was equally impossible to her to stretch out her arms or to open her

eyes or to cry, although she continually endeavoured to do so. The

internal anguish of her mind was, however, at its utmost height when the

funeral hymns began to be sung and when the lid of the coffin was about

to be nailed on. The thought that she was to be buried alive was the

first one which gave activity to her mind, and caused it to operate on

her corporeal frame. Just as the people were about to nail on the lid,

a kind of perspiration was observed to appear on the surface of the

body. It grew greater every moment, and at last a kind of convulsive

motion was observed in the hands and feet of the corpse. A few minutes

after, during which fresh signs of returning life appeared, she at once

opened her eyes, and uttered a most pitiable shriek." In this case it

was considered that the state of trance had been brought about by the

excessive contractile action of the nervous centres. St. Augustine, by

the way, remarks in his "De Civitate Dei" on the case of a certain

priest called Restitutus (appropriately enough), who could when he

wished withdraw himself from life in such sort that he did not feel when

twitched or stung, but might even be burned without suffering pain

except afterwards from the wound so produced. Not only did he not

struggle or even move, but like a dead person he did not breathe, yet

afterwards he said that he could hear the voices of those around him (if

they spoke loudly) as if from a great distance (_de longinquo_).

To return, however, to Dr. Richardson's discussion of the artificial

suspension of active life.

He recognises three degrees of muscular irritability, to which he has

given the names of active efficient, passive efficient, and

negative,--though doubtless he would recognize the probability that the

line separating the first from the second may not always be easily

traced, and that, though there is a most definite distinction between

the second and the third, the actual position of the boundary line has

not as yet been determined. In other words, so far as the first and

second states are concerned, there are not two degrees only, but many.

As regards the third or negative state, which is only another way of

describing death, there is, of course, only one degree, though the

evidence as to the existence of this state may be more or less complete

and obvious. Dr. Richardson defines the active efficient state of

muscular irritability as that "represented in the ordinary living muscle

in which the heart is working at full tension, and all parts of the body

are thoroughly supplied with blood, with perfection of consciousness in

waking hours, and, in a word, full life." The second, or passive

efficient state, "is represented in suspended animation, in which the

heart is working regularly but at low tension, supplying the muscles and

other parts with sufficient blood to maintain the molecular life, but no

more." The third of these states--the negative--"is represented when

there is no motion whatever of blood through the body, as in an animal

entirely frozen."

With the first and third of these states I have in reality nothing to

do, unless indeed it could be shown that the third or negative state can

be produced without causing death. Perhaps in assuming, as I did above,

that this state is identical with the state of the dead, I was, in fact,

assuming what science has yet to demonstrate. I may at any rate,

however, say without fear of valid contradiction, that science has as

yet never succeeded in showing that this negative state may be attained

even for a moment without death ensuing; and the probability (almost

amounting to certainty) is that death and this change of state have in

every instance been simultaneous. Dr. Richardson speaks of the second

stage as that in which animation is _usually_ suspended; but he does not

show that the third stage can even possibly be attained without death.

The second stage, or stage of passive efficiency, closely resembles the

third, "but differs from it in that, under favouring circumstances, the

whole of the phenomena of the active efficient stage may be perfectly

resumed, the heart suddenly enlarging in volume from its filling with

blood, and reanimating the whole organism by the force of its renewed

stroke in full tension. So far as we have yet proceeded," continues Dr.

Richardson, "the whole phenomena of restoration from death are

accomplished during this stage;" meaning, it would seem, that in all

instances of restoration the restoration has been from the second, never

from the third stage. "To those who are not accustomed to see them they

are no doubt very wonderful, looking like veritable restorations from

death. They surprise even medical men the first time they are witnessed

by them." He gives an interesting illustration. At a meeting of the

British Medical Association at Leeds, "a member of the Association was

showing to a large audience the action of nitrous oxide gas, using a

rabbit as the subject of his demonstration. The animal was removed from

the narcotizing chamber a little too late, for it had ceased to breathe,

and it was placed on the table to all appearance dead." "At this stage,"

he proceeds, "I went to the table, and by use of a small pair of

double-acting bellows restored respiration. In about four minutes there

was revival of active irritability in the abdominal muscles, and two

minutes later the animal leaped again into life, as if it had merely

been asleep. There was nothing remarkable in the fact; but it excited,

even in so cultivated an audience as was then present, the liveliest

surprise."

But when we learn the condition necessary that a body which has once

been reduced to the state of passive efficiency should be restored to

active life, we recognise that even when science has learned how to

reduce vitality to a minimum without destroying it, few will care to

risk the process, either in their own persons or in the case of those

dear to them. Besides the condition already indicated, that the muscular

irritability and the nervous excitation must be simultaneously and

equally reduced, it is essential that the blood, the muscular fluid, and

the nervous fluid should all three remain in what Dr. Richardson calls

the aqueous condition, and not become what he calls pectous, a word

which we must understand to bear the same relation to the word solid or

crystalline that the word "aqueous," as used by Dr. Richardson, bears to

the word watery. If all three fluids remain in the aqueous condition,

"the period during which life may be restored is left undefined. It may

be a very long period, including weeks, and possibly months, granting

that decomposition of the tissues is not established; and even after a

limited process of decomposition, there may be renewal of life in

cold-blooded animals. But if pectous change begins in any one of the

structures I have named, it extends like a crystallization quickly

through all the structures, and thereupon recovery is impossible, for

the change in one of the parts is sufficient to prevent the restoration

of all. Thus the heart may be beating, but the blood being pectous it

beats in vain; or the heart may beat and the blood may flow, but the

voluntary muscles being pectous the circulating action is vain; or the

heart may beat, the blood may flow, and the muscles may remain in the

aqueous condition, but the nerves being pectous the circulating action

is in vain; or sometimes the heart may come to rest, and the other parts

may remain susceptible, but the motion of the heart and blood not being

present to quicken them into activity, their life is in vain." Add to

this, that the restoration of the motor forces, of the muscular

irritability, and of the nervous excitation, must be as simultaneous and

as equal as their reduction had been, and we begin to recognise decided

objections to the too frequent suspension of animation, even when the

most perfect artificial means have been devised for bringing about that

interesting result.

Although, however, we may not feel encouraged to believe that many will

care to have experiments tried on themselves in this direction, we may

still examine with interest the results of experimental research and

experience. These agree in showing that there are means by which active

life may be suspended, while at the same time the aqueous condition of

the fluids mentioned above (the blood, the muscular fluid, and the

nervous fluid, the two latter of which are for convenience called the

colloidal animal fluids, and are derived from the blood) is retained.

The first and in some respects the most efficient of these means is

cold. The blood and the colloidal fluids remain in the aqueous condition

when the body is exposed to cold at freezing-point. "At this same point

all vital acts, excepting perhaps the motion of the heart" (it is Dr.

Richardson, be it remembered, who thus uses the significant word

"perhaps"), "may be temporarily arrested in an animal, and then some

animals may continue apparently dead for long intervals of time, and may

yet return to life under conditions favourable to recovery." Dr.

Richardson gives a singular illustration of this, describing an

experiment which must have appeared even more surprising to those who

witnessed it than that in which the rabbit was restored to life. "In one

of my lectures on death from cold," he says, "which I delivered in the

winter session of 1867, some fish which during a hard frost had been

frozen in a tank at Newcastle-on-Tyne, were sent up to me by rail. They

were produced in the completely frozen state at the lecture, and by

careful thawing many of them were restored to perfect life. At my

Croomian lecture on muscular irritability after systemic death, a

similar fact was illustrated from frogs." It would appear, indeed, that

so far as cold-blooded animals are concerned, there is no recognisable

limit to the time during which they may remain thus frozen yet

afterwards recover. But, even in their case, much skill is required to

make the recovery sure. "If in thawing them the utmost care is not taken

to thaw gradually, and at a temperature always below the natural

temperature of the living animal, the fluids will pass from the frozen

state through the aqueous into the pectous so rapidly that death from

pectous change will be pronounced without perceiving any intermediate or

life stage at all." Naturally it is much more difficult to restore life

in the case of warm-blooded animals. Indeed, Dr. Richardson remarks,

that in the case of the more complex and differently shielded organs of

warm-blooded animals, it is next to impossible to thaw equally and

simultaneously all the colloidal fluids. "In very young animals it can

be done. Young kittens, a day or two old, that have been drowned in

ice-cold water, will recover after two hours' immersion almost to a

certainty, if brought into dry air at a temperature of 98 degrees

Fahrenheit. The gentlest motion of the body will be sufficient to

re-start the respiration, and therewith the life."

Remarking on such cases as these, Dr. Richardson notes that the nearest

natural approach to the stage of passive efficiency is seen in

hibernating animals. He states, however, that in hibernation the

complete state of passive efficiency is not produced. He does not accept

the opinion of those who consider that in true hibernation breathing

ceases as above described. A slow respiration continues, he believes, as

well as that low stage of active efficiency of circulation which we have

already indicated. "The hibernating animal sleeps only; and while

sleeping it consumes or wastes; and if the cold be prolonged it may die

from waking." More decisive, because surer, is the evidence derived from

the possibility of waking the hibernating animals by the common methods

used for waking a sleeper. This certainly seems to show that animation

is not positively suspended.

He asks next the question whether an animal like a fish, frozen equally

through all its structures, is to be regarded as actually dead in the

strict sense of the word or not, seeing that if it be uniformly and

equally thawed it may recover from this perfectly frozen state. "In like

manner," he says, "it may be doubted whether a healthy warm-blooded

animal suddenly and equally frozen through all its parts is dead,

although it is not recoverable." If, as seems certainly to be the case,

the animal dies because in the very act of trying to restore it some

inequality in the process is almost sure to determine a fatal issue,

some vital centre passing into the pectous state, the animal could not

have been dead before restoration was attempted; for the dead cannot die

again. Albeit, the outlook is not encouraging, at any rate so far as the

use of cold alone for maintaining suspended animation in full-grown

warm-blooded animals is concerned. Cold will, however, for a long time

maintain ready for motion active organs locally subject to it Even after

death this effect of cold "may be locally demonstrated," Dr. Richardson

tells us, "and has sometimes been so demonstrated to the wonder of the

world." "For instance, on January 17, in the year 1803, Aldini, the

nephew of Galvani, created the greatest astonishment in London by a

series of experiments which he conducted on a malefactor, twenty-six

years old, named John Forster, who was executed at Newgate, and whose

body, an hour after execution, was delivered over to Mr. Keate, Master

of the College of Surgeons, for research. The body had been exposed for

an hour to an atmosphere two degrees below freezing-point,[75] and from

that cause, though Aldini does not seem to have recognised the fact, the

voluntary muscles retained their irritability to such a degree that when

Aldini began to pass voltaic currents through the body, some of the

bystanders seem to have concluded that the unfortunate malefactor had

come again to life. It is significant also that Aldini in his report

says that his object was not to produce reanimation, but to obtain a

practical knowledge how far galvanism might be employed as an auxiliary

to revive persons who were accidentally suffocated, _as though he

himself were in some doubt_,"--that is, not in doubt only about the

power of galvanism, but in doubt whether Forster had been restored to

life for a while, or not! Dr. Richardson has himself repeated, on lower

animals, these experiments of Aldini's, except that the animals on which

he has experimented have passed into death under chloroform, not through

suffocation. His object, in fact, was to determine the best treatment

for human beings who sink under chloroform and other anaesthetics. He

finds that in warm weather he fails to get the same results. Noticing

this, he says, "I experimented at and below the freezing-point, and then

found that both by the electrical discharge, and by injection of water

heated to 130 degrees" (again this terrible inexactness of expression)

"into the muscles through the arteries, active muscular movements could

be produced in warm-blooded animals many hours after death. Thus, for

lecture experiment, I have removed one muscle from the body of an animal

that had slept to death from chloroform, and putting the muscle in a

glass tube surrounded with ice and salt, I have kept it for several days

in a condition for its making a final muscular contraction, and, by

gently thawing it, have made it, in the act of final contraction, do

some mechanical work, such as moving a long needle on the face of a

dial, or discharging a pistol. In muscles so removed from the body and

preserved ready for motion there is, however, only one final act. For

as the blood and nervous supply are both cut off from it, there is

nothing left in it but the reserved something that was fixed by the

cold. But I do not see any reason why this should not be maintained in

reservation for weeks or months, as easily as for days, in a fixed cold

atmosphere."

Cold being, however, obviously insufficient of itself for the suspension

of active life in warm-blooded animals, at least if such life is

eventually to be restored, let us next consider some of the agencies

which either alone or aided by cold may suspend without destroying life.

The first known of all such agencies was mandragora. Dioscorides

describes a wine, called _morion_, which was made from the leaves and

the root of mandragora, and possessed properties resembling those of

chloral hydrate. That it must have been an effective narcotic is shown

by the circumstance that painful operations were performed on patients

subjected to its influence, without their suffering the least pain, or

even feeling. The sleep thus produced lasted several hours. Dr.

Richardson considers that the use of this agent was probably continued

until the twelfth or thirteenth century. "From the use of it doubtless

came," he says, "the Shaksperian legend of Juliet." He strangely omits

to notice that Shakspeare elsewhere speaks of this narcotic by name,

where Iago says of Othello:

"Not poppy, nor mandragora,

Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world,

Shall ever med'cine thee to that sweet sleep

Which thou own'dst yesterday."

Probably the use of mandragora as a narcotic may have continued much

later than the thirteenth century. In earlier times it was certainly

used as opium is now used, not for medicinal purposes, but to produce

for a while an agreeable sensation of dreamy drowsiness. "There were

those," says Dr. Richardson, in his interesting article on Narcotics in

the CONTEMPORARY REVIEW for July last, "who drank of it for taste or

pleasure, and who were spoken of as 'mandragorites,' as we might speak

of 'alcoholists' or 'chloralists.' They passed into the land of sleep

and dream, and waking up in scare and alarm were the screaming mandrakes

of an ancient civilization." He has himself made the "morion" of the

ancients, dispensing the prescription of Dioscorides and Pliny. "The

same chemist, Mr. Hanbury," he says, "who first put chloral into my

hands for experiment, also procured for me the root of the true

mandragora. From that root I made the morion, tested it on myself, tried

its effects, and re-proved, after a lapse perhaps of four or five

centuries, that it had all the properties originally ascribed to it."

The "deadly nightshade" has similar properties. (In fact, morion was

originally made from the _Atropa belladonna_, not from its ally the

_Atropa mandragora_.) In 1851, Dr. Richardson attended two children who

were poisoned for a time from eating the berries and chewing the leaves

of the nightshade, which they had gathered near Richmond. They were

brought home insensible, he says, "and they lay in a condition of

suspended life for seven hours, the greatest care being required to

detect either the respiration or the movements of the heart; they

nevertheless recovered."

With the nitrite of amyl, Dr. Richardson has suspended the life of a

frog for nine days, yet the creature was then restored to full and

vigorous life. He has shown also that the same power of suspension,

though in less degree, "could be produced in warm-blooded animals, and

that the heart of a warm-blooded animal would contract for a period of

eighteen hours after apparent death." The action of nitrite of amyl

seems to resemble that of cold. In the pleasing language of the doctors,

"it prevents the pectous change of colloidal matter, and so prevents

_rigor mortis_, coagulation of blood, and solidification of nervous

centres and cords." So long as this change is prevented, active life can

be restored. But when in these experiments "the pectous change occurred,

all was over, and resolution into new forms of matter by putrefaction

was the result." From the analogy of some of the symptoms resulting from

the use of nitrite of amyl with the symptoms of catalepsy, Dr.

Richardson has "ventured to suggest that under some abnormal conditions

the human body itself, in its own chemistry, may produce an agent which

causes the suspended life observed during the cataleptic condition." The

suggestion has an interest apart from the question of the possibility of

safely suspending animation for considerable periods of time: it might

be possible to detect the nature of the agent thus produced by the

chemistry of the human body (if the theory is correct), and thus to

learn how its power might be counteracted.

Chloral hydrate seems singularly efficient in producing the semblance of

death,--so completely, indeed, as to deceive even the elect. Dr.

Richardson states that at the meeting of the British Association at

Exeter, some pigeons which had been put to sleep by the needle injection

of a large dose of chloral, "fell into such complete resemblance of

death that they passed for dead among an audience containing many

physiologists and other men of science. For my own part," he proceeds,

"I could detect no sign of life in them, and they were laid in one of

the out-offices of the museum of the infirmary as dead. In this

condition they were left late at night, but in the following morning

they were found alive, and as well as if nothing hurtful had happened to

them." Similar effects seem to be produced by the deadly poisons

cyanogen gas and hydrocyanic acid, though in the following case,

narrated by Dr. Richardson, the animal experimented upon (not with the

idea of eventually restoring it to life) belonged to a race so specially

tenacious of life that some may consider only one of its proverbial nine

lives to have been affected. In the laboratory of a large drug

establishment a cat, "by request of its owner, was killed, as was

assumed, instantaneously and painlessly by a large dose of Scheele's

acid. The animal appeared to die without a pang, and, presenting every

appearance of death, was laid in a sink to be removed on the next

morning. At night the animal was lying still in form of death in the

tank beneath a tap. In the morning it was found alive and well, but with

the fur wet from the dropping of water from the tap." This fact was

communicated to Dr. Richardson by an eminent chemist under whose direct

observation it occurred, in corroboration of an observation of his own

similar in character.

Our old friend alcohol (if friend it can be called) possesses the power

of suspending active vitality without destroying life, or at any rate

without depriving the muscles of their excitability. Dr. Richardson

records the case of a drunken man who, while on the ice at the Welsh

Harp lake, fell into the water through an opening in the ice, and was

for more than fifteen minutes completely immersed. He was extricated to

all appearance dead, but under artificial respiration was restored to

consciousness, though he did not survive for many hours. On the whole,

alcoholic suspension of life does not appear to be the best method

available. To test it, the patient must first get "very, very drunk,"

and even then, like the soldiers in the old song, must go on drinking,

lest the experiment should terminate simply in the fiasco of a drunken

sleep.

The last agent for suspending life referred to by Dr. Richardson is pure

oxygen. But he has not yet obtained such information on the power of

oxygen in this respect as he hopes to do.

Summing up the results of the various experiments made with narcotics

and other agents for suspending life, Dr. Richardson remarks that much

is already known in the world of science in respect to the suspension of

animal life by artificial means: "cold as well as various chemical

agents has this power, and it is worthy of note that cold, together with

the agents named, is antiseptic, as though whatever suspended living

action, suspended also by some necessary and correlative influence the

process of putrefactive change." He points out that if the news from

Brisbane were reliable, it would be clear that what had been done had

been effected by the combination of one of the chemical agents above

named, or of a similar agent, with cold. The only question which would

remain as of moment is, not whether a new principle has been developed,

but whether in matter of detail a new product has been discovered which,

better than any of the agents we already possess, destroys and suspends

animation. "In organic chemistry," he proceeds, "there are, I doubt not,

hundreds of substances which, like mandragora and nitrite of amyl, would

suspend the vital process, and it may be a new experimenter has met with

such an agent. It is not incredible, indeed, that the Indian Fakirs

possess a vegetable extract or essence which possesses the same power,

and by means of which they perform their as yet unexplained feat of

prolonged living burial." But he is careful to note the weak points of

the Australian story--viz., first, the statement that the method used is

a secret, "for men of true science know no such word;" secondly, that

the experimenter has himself to go to America to procure more supplies

of his agents; and, thirdly, that he requires two agents, one of which

is an antidote to the other. As respects this third point, he asks very

pertinently how an antidote can be absorbed and enter into the

circulation in a body practically dead.

It is, of course, now well known that the whole story was a hoax, and a

mischievous one. Several Australian farmers travelled long distances to

Sydney to make inquiries about a method which promised such important

results, only to find that there was not a particle of truth in the

story.

The Contemporary Review, Volume 36, November 1879 · 第 29 / 35 题