"It is probably from surgical cases that the strongest arguments for euthanasia may be drawn. One of the highest authorities respecting such cases, the late Sir Benjamin Brodie, said that a very moderate amount of pain, if continued for a long time, would make any one heartily tired of life. He remarked also, that during his whole life he had known only two dying persons who showed any fear of death; and that both those died of bleeding. One cause of this singular circumstance probably was, that in these two cases there was hardly any pain to distract the mind; and the fact is curious, as showing how rare, in Sir Benjamin's experience, such painless deaths must have been."
The publication of this paper gave the discussion a fresh impulse, and numerous articles and letters have appeared in the English press, a few in favor of Euthanasia, but most of them decidedly against it. The Saturday Review, which had at first coquetted with Mr. Williams's theory as a novelty, upon sober reflection condemned it. The following is a part of its argument:
"It is of primary importance to inculcate a regard for the sanctity of human life. The reluctance to take life is indeed often pushed to an extreme by the opponents of capital punishments. But nobody can say that the mass of the population have as yet pushed their tenderness to the verge of effeminacy. A little story, related for a different purpose in the Fortnightly Review, illustrates very prettily a sentiment which is not so uncommon as might be desired. A sensible Scotchman watching by the bedside of his dying wife became impatient at the poor woman's anxiety to express her last wishes, and civilly requested her to 'get on wi' her deeing.' Now, among the poorer classes, where the inconvenience inflicted by people who 'take an unconscionable time in dying' is necessarily felt much more keenly than with people in a different rank, it is to be feared that this delicate hint is frequently followed up by some practical remonstrances. 'They pinched his nose beneath the clothes,' as Barham says, on the authority of a real occurrence, 'and the poor dear soul went off like a lamb.' Suppose, in fact, the case of a small cottage, where the invalid has become a heavy burden upon his family instead of a support, where the expense of providing medicine and attendance is most seriously felt, and where the sick-room is also the only dwelling-room, must there not frequently be a strong temptation to give him a quiet push or two along the downward path? If it were understood to be the law that invalids might be finished off when the case was hopeless, would not the temptation be frequently overpowering? Yes, it is replied, but the doctor and the parson must be present. That is all very well, but, if the practice became common, the people would quickly learn to take the law into their own hands. For it is to be observed that this is one of the cases where nobody could tell tales. A man on the verge of death does not require to have his throat cut
