No estimate of the future of vivisection in America can be of value which does not recognize the power of the laboratory at the present day. Half a century ago, the vivisection of animals was rarely practised; to-day, in the older states, there are few institutions of higher learning which do not possess ample facilities for animal experimentation. Millionaires, many times over, have been induced to devote some part of their great wealth to the foundation and support of institutions for exsperimentation upon living things. Farms have been established where animals destined to sacrifice, are born and bred. It may safely be estimated that in America, to-day, there are not less than five hundred times as many experiments every year, as took place half a century ago.

One must recognize, too, the change which has taken place in the attitude of a majority of the medical profession towards this reform. During the past thirty years, thousands of young men have entered the profession, who have been carefully educated to regard all criticism of animal experimentation as due to a sentimentalism worthy only of contempt. I greatly doubt whether even one per cent. of the physicians in America, under fifty years of age, have ever heard that half a century ago, the feeling of the medical profession, in the English-speaking world was almost unanimous in disapproval and condemnation of methods and of experiments which now pass without notice, and uncondemned. When men, educated to come into the closest of relations with their fellow-beings, are thus prejudiced and uninformed, should we wonder that their views are so widely accepted? The wonder to me is rather that so large a minority are not to be convinced that everything in a laboratory must be right.

Another element of the forces that to-day are marshalled against reform, is the Press. Political journals, which even twenty-five years ago endeavoured to hold an attitude of impartiality, now present editorials almost every week in ridicule of any legal regulation of vivisection, or of any opposition to laboratory freedom. The intimate knowledge of medical matters sometimes exhibited by the writers, would seem to indicate a closer relation between the physiological laboratory of to-day, and the editorial sanctum, than existed forty years ago. There are journals, so closely related, apparently, to laboratory interests, that they do not permit correction of editorial misstatements or mistake to appear in their columns, even when such blunders are pointed out. The old impartial attitude of the Press seems—except here and there—to have completely disappeared. Any forecast of the future must take into account this vast and ever- increasing influence.

Yet another impediment to the legal repression of any cruelty pertaining to animal experimentation is one which we all deplore, even though no remedy appears in sight. It is not the opposition of enemies, but division among friends that constitutes, in my opinion, the greatest present obstacle to any reform. It is as though against some strong fortress, different armies were engaging in an attack, each with its separate purpose, its own plan of campaign, its own ultimate aim, and now and then crossing and recrossing in each other's way, to the infinite delight of the enemy. Some of us make the demand that ALL such inquiry on the part of Science shall be made a crime; and some of us take the position of the English-speaking medical profession of forty years ago, that ABUSES AND CRUELTY ALONE should be the object of attack. If opposition from the first, had been solely directed against ABUSES of vivisection, could any reform have been achieved? It is not certain. When Mr. Rockefeller opened his purse on the vivisection table, he added immeasurably to the strength of the forces that resist reform. And yet it is difficult to over-estimate the loss to any cause of such men as Sir Benjamin Ward Richardson, as Professor William James and Professor Henry J. Bigelow of Harvard University, or of Dr. Theophilus Parvin of Jefferson Medical College,—to refer only to the dead. Their criticisms of cruelty were outspoken, but they could not join in universal condemnation of all such inquiry into the phenomena of life. Might it not have been better—even at the cost of a lessened demand—to have kept on the side of reform that large element in the medical profession which willingly condemned abuse, but declined to denounce the simplest demonstration, or the most painless investigation? Of course such an inquiry will receive different replies. It is ever the easier task to make condemnation absolute. The thing has been done; the past is beyond recall. But in looking at the future, we cannot but recognize the changed attitude of a majority of the medical profession from that of half a century ago.

The strongest position of the modern physiological laboratory, is its SECRECY. It occupies in the popular mind almost precisely the place which was held for centuries by the Inquisition in Spain. There were men who doubtless objected, then, to the secrecy of the dungeon. "Trust us absolutely," cried the inquisitor. "Ours is the responsibility of preventing errors that lead to eternal death. Can you not leave it to us to decide what shall be done in the torture- chamber, being assured that NO MORE PAIN WILL BE INFLICTED THAN IS ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY FOR THE END IN VIEW?" "Trust us absolutely," demands the vivisector of to-day. "Can you dare to question the purity of our motives, the unselfishness of our aims, the mild and humane methods of our experimentation? Why should any one wish to disturb the silence and secrecy in which we carry on our work? Cannot the public leave it solely to us to determine what pain may be inflicted upon animals, being certain that no more suffering will be caused than we deem to be necessary for success?"

The parallelism is complete. It is a call for implicit confidence. And that confidence has been given by a too credulous public. Three hundred years ago, when the victims were marched in long procession from dungeon to burning-place, they were accompanied by an approving mob, eager to inflict every indignity and to applaud every pang. The men about the burning-place were not intentionally cruel. They had simply given the control of their judgment to the inquisitor. Is it so very different, to-day, in the matter of vivisection? Why should we hesitate to recognize that at the present time, a large section of the general public have made the same act of surrender, justifying whatever the laboratory demands, and defending whatever it defends?

It seems to me probable, therefore, that for many years to come, the laboratory for vivisection, IF ONLY IT CAN MAINTAIN ITS SECRECY, will continue as serenely indifferent to criticsm, as completely master of the confidence of modern society, as supreme in power and position as was the Spanish Inquisition of three centuries ago. New laboratories will be founded upon ill-gotten wealth; new inquisitors, with salaries greater than those of Washington or Lincoln will take the places of those that retire; new theories, now unimagined, will demand their tribute of victims to help prove or disprove some useless hypothesis; even new methods of torment may be invented, and new excuses for their necessity put forth. Nor is this all. If the laboratory of the present day shall continue to maintain its hold upon the intelligence of modern society; if it can keep unimpaired that confidence in its benevolent purpose, that belief in accomplishment, that faith in utility which now so largely obtains; and if, moreover, it can secure for the charity hospital that absolute power and secrecy which it has gained for itself in animal experimentation, then, within the lifetime of men now living, human beings will take their place as "material" for investigation of human ailments. Upon the living bodies of Amerian soldiers, upon lunatics in asylums and babes in institutions and patients in charity hospitals, experiments of this character have already taken place. Is utility to Science to be considered the standard by which human actions are to be judged? Then, even within the present century, experimentation upon human beings may be openly acknowledged as a defensible method of investigation.

Now all this is not a cry of despair, a confession of defeat. It is meant only to be rational recognition of existing conditions, and especially of the forces that now prevent reform. Perhaps if the armies were united, a different forecast could be made; but that union is beyond hope. The enthusiasm that would expect to eliminate a great evil on other terms, and within the space of time occupied by a single generation does not seem to me to be justified by the records of history. Of the ultimate triumph of the reform of vivisection, there can be no more question than of the result of the agitation against human slavery, against the torment of criminals, against the burning of the heretic or the witch. In what way may we anticipate its coming?

We may be certain that a period will yet arrive, when among the more intelligent classes of society, doubts concerning the practical utility of all that is done in the name of Science will take the place of present-day credulity. It is too soon to expect a general spirit of inquiry to arise; the closed laboratory has not been so long in existence but that a request for more time to demonstrate possibility of accomplishment may seem not unreasonable. But some time in the future, long after we have all passed away, the intellectual world may be moved by the spirit of doubt and unrest; it will ask from the laboratory a statement of account; it will demand that the books be balanced; and that against the cost of agony and death, there be made known whatever gains in way of discoveries of clearly demonstrated value to humanity, can be proven to exist.

Like the servant in the parable, the modern laboratory has been given its ten talents. It enjoys a secrecy which is profound, all that wealth can procure, and unrestricted opportunity for ever phase of research. There is no limitation to the torments which it may inflict, without impediment or fear of public criticism, if present secrecy can be maintained. The conscience of modern society—so far as vivisection is concerned,—would seem to have "journeyed into a far country." But some day it may return to its own, and ask for an accounting of its trust.