Incurable disease is one of the strongholds of the patent medicine business. The ideal patron, viewed in the light of profitable business, is the victim of some slow and wasting ailment in which recurrent hope inspires to repeated experiments with any "cure" that offers. In the columns of almost every newspaper you may find promises to cure consumption. Consumption is a disease absolutely incurable by any medicine, although an increasing percentage of consumptives are saved by open air, diet and methodical living. This is thoroughly and definitely understood by all medical and scientific men. Nevertheless there are in the patent medicine world a set of harpies who, for their own business interests, deliberately foster in the mind of the unfortunate sufferer from tuberculosis the belief that he can be saved by the use of some absolutely fraudulent nostrum. Many of these consumption cures contain drugs which hasten the progress of the disease, such as chloroform, opium, alcohol and hasheesh. Others are comparatively harmless in themselves, but for their fervent promises of rescue they delude the sufferer into misplacing his reliance, and forfeiting his only chance by neglecting those rigidly careful habits of life which alone can conquer the "white plague." One and all, the men who advertise medicines to cure consumption deliberately traffic in human life.
Certain members of the Proprietary Association of America (the patent medicine "combine") with whom I have talked have urged on me the claim that there are firms in the nostrum business that are above criticism, and have mentioned H. E. Bucklen & Co., of Chicago, who manufacture a certain salve. The Bucklen salve did not particularly interest me. But when I came to take up the subject of consumption cures I ran unexpectedly on an interesting trail. In the country and small city newspapers there is now being advertised lavishly "Dr. King's New Discovery for Consumption." It is proclaimed to be the "only sure cure for consumption." Further announcement is made that "it strikes terror to the doctors." As it is a morphin and chloroform mixture, "Dr. King's New Discovery for Consumption" is well calculated to strike terror to the doctors or to any other class or profession, except, perhaps, the undertakers. It is a pretty diabolical concoction to give to any one, and particularly to a consumptive. The chloroform temporarily allays the cough, thereby checking Nature's effort to throw off the dead matter from the lungs. The opium drugs the patient into a deceived cheerfulness. The combination is admirably designed to shorten the life of any consumptive who takes it steadily. Of course, there is nothing on the label of the bottle to warn the purchaser. That would be an example of legitimate advertising in the consumption field.
Chloroform and Prussic Acid.
Another "cure" which, for excellent reasons of its own, does not print its formula, is "Shiloh's Consumption Cure," made at Leroy, N. Y., by S. C. Wells & Co. Were it to publish abroad the fact that it contains, among other ingredients, chloroform and prussic acid. Under our present lax system there is no warning on the bottle that the liquid contains one of the most deadly of poisons. The makers write me: "After you have taken the medicine for awhile, if you are not firmly convinced that you are very much better we want you to go to your druggist and get back all the money that you have paid for Shiloh."
But if I were a consumptive, after I had taken "Shiloh" for awhile I should be less interested in recovering my money than in getting back my wasted chance of life. Would S. C. Wells & Co. guarantee that?
Morphin is the important ingredient of Dr. Bull's Cough Syrup. Nevertheless, the United States Postoffice Department obligingly transmits me a dose of this poison through the mails from A. C. Meyer & Co., of Baltimore, the makers. The firm writes me, in response to my letter of inquiry:
"We do not claim that Dr. Bull's Cough Syrup will cure an established case of consumption. If you have gotten this impression you most likely have misunderstood what we claim.... We can, however, say that Dr. Bull's Cough Syrup has cured cases said to have been consumption in its earliest stages."
Quite conservative, this. But A. C. Meyer & Co. evidently don't follow their own advertising very closely, for around my sample bottle (by courtesy of the Postoffice Department) is a booklet, and from that booklet I quote:
"There is no case of hoarseness, cough, asthma, bronchitis... or consumption that can not be cured speedily by the proper use of Dr. Bull's Cough Syrup."
If this is not a claim that Dr. Bull's Cough Syrup "will cure an established case of consumption," what is it? The inference from Meyer & Co.'s cautious letter is that they realize their responsibility for a cruel and dangerous fraud and are beginning to feel an uneasiness about it, which may be shame or may be only fear. One logical effect of permitting medicines containing a dangerous quantity of poison to be sold without the poison label is shown in the coroner's verdict reproduced on page 47.
In the account of the Keck baby's death from the Dr. Bull opium mixture, which the Cincinnati papers published, there was no mention of the name of the cough syrup. Asked about this, the newspapers gave various explanations. Two of them disclosed that they had no information on the point. This is contrary to the statement of the physician in the case, and implies a reportorial, laxity which is difficult to credit. One ascribed the omission to a settled policy and one to the fear of libel. When the coroner's verdict was given out, however, the name of the nostrum got into plain print. On the whole, the Cincinnati papers showed themselves gratifyingly independent.
Another case of poisoning from this same remedy occurred in Morocco, Ind., the victim being a 2-year-old child. The doctor reports:
"In an hour, when first seen, symptoms of opium poisoning were present. In about twelve hours the child had several convulsions, and spasms followed for another twelve hours at intervals. It then sank into a coma and died in the seventy-two hours with cardiac failure. The case was clearly one of death from overdose of the remedy."
The baby had swallowed a large amount of the "medicine" from a bottle left within its reach. Had the bottle been properly labeled with skull and cross-bones the mother would probably not have let it lie about.
Caution seems to have become a suddenly acquired policy of this class of medicines, in so far as their correspondence goes. Unfortunately, it does not extend to their advertising. The result is a rather painful discrepancy. G. G. Green runs hotels in California and manufactures quack medicines in Woodbury, N. J., one of these being "Boschee's German Syrup," a "consumption cure." Mr. Green writes me (per rubber stamp):
"Consumption can sometimes be cured, but not always. Some cases are beyond cure. However, we suggest that you secure a trial bottle of German Syrup for 25 cents," etc.
On the bottle I read: "Certain cure for all diseases of the throat and lungs." Consumption is a disease of the lungs; sometimes of the throat.
If it "can sometimes be cured, but not always," then the German Syrup is not a "certain cure for all diseases of the throat and lungs," and somebody, as the ill-fated Reingelder put it, "haf lied in brint" on Mr. Green's bottle, which must be very painful to Mr. Green. Mr. Green's remedy contains morphin and some hydrocyanic acid. Therefore consumption will be much less often curable where Boschee's German Syrup is used than where it is not.
A curious mixture of the cautious, semi-ethical method and the blatant claim-all patent medicine is offered in the Ozomulsion Company. Ozomulsion does not, like the "cures" mentioned above, contain active poisons. It is one of the numerous cod-liver oil preparations, and its advertising, in tne medical journals at first and now in the lay press, is that of a cure for consumption. I visited the offices of the Ozomulsion Company recently and found them duly furnished with a regular physician, who was employed, so he informed me, in a purely ethical capacity. There was also present during the interview the president of the Ozomulsion Company, Mr. A. Frank Richardson, former advertising agent, former deviser of the advertising of Swamp-Root, former proprietor of Kranitonic and present proprietor of Slocum's Consumption Cure, which is the "wicked partner" of Ozomulsion. For convenience I will put the conversation in court report form, and, indeed, it partook somewhat of the nature of a cross-examination:
Q.—Dr. Smith, will Ozomulsion cure consumption?
A.—Ozomulsion builds up the tissues, imparts vigor, aids the natural resistance of the body, etc. (Goes into a long exploitation in the manner and style made familiar by patent medicine pamphlets. )
Q.—But will it cure consumption?
A.—Well, without saying that it is a specific, etc. (Passes to an instructive, entertaining and valuable disquisition on the symptoms and nature of tuberculosis. )
Q.—Yes, but will Ozomulsion cure consumption?
A.—We don't claim that it will cure consumption.
Q.—Does not this advertisement state that Ozomulsion will cure consumption? (SHowing advertisement.)
A.—It seems to.
Q.—Will Ozomulsion cure consumption?
A.—In the early stages of the disease—
Q. (interrupting)—Does the advertisement make any qualifications as to the stage of tne disease?
A.—Not that I find.
Q.—Have you ever seen that advertisement before?
A.—Not to my knowledge.
Q.—Who wrote it?
A. (by President Richardson)—I done that ad. myself.
Q.—Mr. Richardson, will Ozomulsion cure consumption?
A.—Sure; we got testimonials to prove it.
Q.—Have you ever investigated any of these testimonials?
Q. (to Dr. Smith)—Dr. Smith, in view of the direct statement of your advertising, do you believe that Ozomulsion will cure consumption?
A.—Well, I believe in a great many cases it will.
That is as far as Dr. Smith would go. I wonder what he would have said as to the Dr. T. A. Slocum side of the business. Dr. Slocum puts out a "Special Cure Offer" that will snatch you from the jaws of death, on theblanket plan, for $6, and guarantees the cure (or more medicine) for $10. His scheme is so noble and broad-minded that I can not refrain from detailing it. For $5 you get,
1 large bottle of Psychine,1 large bottle of Ozomulsion,1 large bottle of Coltsfoote Expectorant,1 large tube of Ozojell,3 boxes of lazy Liver Pills3 Hot X-Ray Porous Plaster,
"which," says the certificate, "will in a majority of cases effect a permanent care of the malady from which the invalid is now suffering." Whatever ails you—that's what Dr. T. A. Sloram cures. For $10 you get almost twice the amount, plus the guarantee. Surely there is little left on earth, unless Dr. Slocum should issue a $15 offer, to include funeral expenses and a tombstone.
The Slocum Consumption Cure proper consists of a gay-hued substance known as "Psychine." Psychine is about 16 per cent, alcohol, and has a dash of strychnin to give the patient his money's worth. Its alluring color is derived from cochineal. It is "an infallible and unfailing remedy for consumption." Ozomulsion is also a sure cure, if the literature is to be believed. To cure one's self twice of the same disease savors of reckless extravagance, but as "a perfect and permanent cure will be the inevitable consequence," perhaps it's worth the money. It would not do to charge Dr. T. A. Slocum with fraud, because he is, I suppose, as dead as Lydia E. Pinkham; but Mr. A. Frank Richardson is very much alive, and I trust it will be no surprise to him to see here stated that his Ozomulsion makes claims that it can not support, that his Psychine is considerably worse, that his special cure offer is a bit of shameful quackery, and that his whole Slocum Consumption Cure is a fake and a fraud so ludicrous that its continued insistence is a brilliant commentary on human credulousness.
Since the early '60s, and perhaps before, there has constantly been in the public prints one or another benefactor of the human race who wishes to bestow on suffering mankind, free of charge, a remedy which has snatched him from the brink of the grave. Such a one is Mr. W. A. Noyes, of Rochester, N. Y. To any one who writes him he sends gratis a prescription which will surely cure consumption. But take this prescription to your druggist and you will fail to get it filled, for the simple reason that the ingenious Mr. Noyes has employed a pharmaceutical nomenclature peculiarly his own If you wish to try the "Cannabis Sativa Remedy" (which is a mixture of hasheesh and other drugs) you must purchase it direct from the advertiser at a price which assures him an abnormal profit. As Mr. Noyes writes me proposing to give special treatment for my (supposed) case, depending on a diagnosis of sixty-seven questions, I fail to see why he is not liable for practicing medicine without a license.
Piso's Consumption Cure, extensively advertised a year or two ago, is apparently withdrawing from the field, so far as consumption goes, and the Pino people are now more modestly promising to cure coughs and colds. Old analyses give as the contents of Piso's Cure for Consumption alcohol, chloroform, opium and cannabis indica (hasheesh). In reply to an inquiry as to whether their remedy contains morphin and cannabis indica, the Piso Company replies: "Since the year 1872 Piso's Cure has contained no morphin or anything derived from opium." The question as to cannabis indica is not answered. Analysis shows that the "cure" contains chloroform, alcohol and apparently cannabis indica. It is, therefore, another of theremedies which can not possibly cure consumption, but, on the contrary, tend by their poisonous and debilitating drugs to undermine the victim's stamina.
Peruna, Liquozone, Duffy's Malt Whiskey, Pierce's Golden Medical Discovery and the other "blanket" cures include tuberculosis in their lists, claiming great numbers of well-authenticated cures. From the imposing book published by the R. V. Pierce Company, of Buffalo, I took a number of testimonials for investigation; not a large number, for I found the consumption testimonial rather scarce. From fifteen letters I got results in nine cases. Seven of the letters were returned to me marked "unclaimed," of which one was marked "Name not in the dictory," another "No such postoffice in the state" and a third "Deceased." The eighth man wrote that the Golden Medical Discovery had cured his cough and blood-spitting, adding: "It is the best lung medisan I ever used for lung trubble." The last man said he took twenty-five bottles and was cured! Two out of nine seems to me a suspiciously small percentage of traceable recoveries. Much stress has been laid by the Proprietary Association of America through its press committee on the suit brought by R. V. Pierce against the Ladies' Home Journal, the implication being (although the suit has not yet been tried) that a reckless libeler of a noble and worthy business has been suitably punished. In the full appreciation of Dr. Pierce's attitude in the matter of libel, I wish to state that in so far as its claim of curing consumption is concerned his Golden Medical Discovery is an unqualified fraud.
One might suppose that the quacks would stop short of trying to deceive the medical profession in this matter, yet the "consumption cure" may be found disporting itself in the pages of the medical journals. For instance, I find this advertisement in several professional magazines:
"McArthur's Syrup of Hypophosphites has proved itself, time and time again, to be positively beneficial in this condition [tuberculosis] in the hands of prominent observers, clinicians and, what is more, practicing physicians, hundreds of whom have written their admiring encomiums inits behalf, and it is the enthusiastic conviction of many thatits effect is truly specific" Which, translated into lay terms, means that the syrup will cure consumption. I find also in the medical press "a sure cure for dropsy," fortified with a picture worthy of Swamp-Root or Lydia Pinkham. Both of these are frauds in attempting to foster the idea that they willcurethe diseases, and they are none the less fraudulent for being advertised to the medical profession instead of to the laity.
Is there, then, no legitimate advertising of preparations useful in diseases such as tuberculosis? Very little, and that little mostly in the medical journals, exploiting products which tend to build up and strengthen the patient. There has recently appeared, however, one advertisement in the lay press which seems to me a legitimate attempt to push a nostrum. It is reproduced at the beginning of this article. Notice, first, the frank statement that there is no specific for consumption; second, that there is no attempt to deceive the public into the belief that the emulsion will be helpful in all cases. Whether or not Scott's Emulsion is superior to other cod-liver oils is beside the present question. If all patent medicine "copy" were written in the same spirit of honesty as this, I should have been able to omit from this series all consideration of fraud, and devote my entire attention to the far less involved and difficult matter of poison. Unhappily, all of the Scott's Emulsion advertising is not up to this standard. In another newspaper I have seen an excerpt in which the Scott & Bowne Company come perilously near making, if they do not actually make, the claim that their emulsion is a cure, and furthermore make themselves ridiculous by challenging comparison with another emulsion, suggesting a chemical test and offering, if their nostrum comes out second best,to give to the institution making the experiment a supply of their oil free for a year. This is like the German druggist who invented a heart-cure and offered two cases to any one who could prove that it was injurious!
Consumption is not the only incurable disease in which there are good pickings for the birds of prey. In a recent issue of the New York SundayAmerican-JournalI find three cancer cures, one dropsy cure, one "heart-disease soon cured," three epilepsy cures and a "case of paralysis cured." Cancer yields to but one agency—the knife. Epilepsy is either the result of pressure on the brain or some obscure cerebral disease; medicine can never cure it. Heart disease is of many kinds, and a drug that may be helpful in relieving symptoms in one case might be fatal in another. The same is true of dropsy. Medical science knows no "cure" for paralysis. As space lacks to consider individually the nature of each nostrum separately, I list briefly, for the protection of those who read, a number of the more conspicuous swindles of this kind now being foisted on the public:
Rupert Wells' Radiatized Fluid, for cancer.Miles' Heart Disease Cure.Miles' Grand Dropsy Cure.Dr. Tucker's Epilepsy Cure.Dr. Grant's Epilepsy Cure.W. H. May's Epilepsy Cure.Dr. Kline's Epilepsy Cure.Dr. W. 0. Bye's Cancer Cure.Mason's Cancer Cure.Dr. Williams' Pink Pills for Pale People,
which are advertised to cure paralysis and are a compound of green vitriol, starch and sugar.
Purchasers of these nostrums not only waste their money, but in many cases they throw away their only chance by delaying proper treatment until it is too late.
Properly, a "cure" known as Bioplasm belongs in this list, but so ingenious are its methods that it deserves some special attention. In some of the New York papers a brief advertisement, reading as follows, occupies a conspicuous position.
"After suffering for ten years the torture that only an ataxic can know, Mr. E. P. Burnham, of Delmar, N. Y., has been relieved of all pain and restored to health and strength, and the ability to resume his usual pursuits, by an easily obtained and inexpensive treatment which any druggist can furnish. To any fellow-sufferer who mails him a self-addressed envelope Mr. Burnham sends free this prescription which cured him."—Adv.
Now, people who give away something for nothing, and spend money advertising for a chance to do it, are as rare in the patent medicine business as out of it, and Delmar, N. Y., is not included in any map of Altruria that I have learned of E. P. Burnham, therefore, seemed worth writing to. The answer came back promptly, inclosing the prescription and explaining the advertiser's purpose:
"My only motive in the notice which caught your attention is to help other sufferers.You owe me nothing. I have nothing to sell. When you are benefited, however, if you feel disposed and able to send me a contribution to assist me in making this great boon to our felow-sufferers better known it will be thankfully received and used for that purpose."
I fear that Mr. Burnham doesn't make much money out of grateful correspondents who were cured of locomotor ataxia by his prescription, because locomotor ataxia is absolutely and hopelessly incurable. Where Mr. Burnham gets his reward, I fancy, is from the Bioplasm Company, of 100 William street, New York, whose patent medicine is prescribed for me. I should like to believe that his "only motive is to help other sufferers," but as I find, on investigation, that the advertising agents who handle the "Burnham" account are the Bioplasm Company's agents, I am regretfully compelled to believe that Mr. Burnham, instead of being of the tribe of the good Samaritan, is probably an immediate relative of Ananias. The Bioplasm Company also proposes to cure consumption, and is worthy of a conspicuous place in the Fraud's Gallery of Nostrums.
Even the skin of the Ethiop is not exempt from the attention of the quacks. A colored correspondent writes, asking that I "give a paragraph to these frauds who cater to the vanity of those of my race who insult their Creator in attempting to change their color and hair," and inclose a typical advertisement of "Lustorene," which "straightens kinky, nappy, curly hair," and of "Lustorone Face Bleach," which "whitens the darkest skin" and will "bring the skin to any desired shade or color." Nothing could better illustrate to what ridiculous lengths the nostrum fraud will go. Of course, the Lustorone business is fraudulent. Some time since a Virginia concern, which advertised to turn negroes white, was suppressed by the Postoffice Department, which might well turn its attention to Lustorone Face Bleach.
There are being exploited in this country to-day more than 100 cures, for diseases that are absolutely beyond the reach of drugs. They are owned by men who know them to be swindles, and who in private conversation will almost always evade the direct statement that their nostrums will "cure" consumption, epilepsy, heart disease and ailments of that nature. Many of them "guarantee" their remedies. They will return your money if you aren't satisfied. And they can afford to. They take the lightest of risks. The real risk is all on the other side. It is their few pennies per bottle against your life. Were the facile patter by which they lure to the bargain a menace to the pocketbook alone, one might regard them only as ordinaryfollowers of light finance, might imagine them filching their gain with the confidential, half-brazen, half-ashamed leer of the thimblerigger. But the matter goes further and deeper. Every man who trades in this market, whether he pockets the profits of the maker, the purveyor or the advertiser, takes toll of blood. He may not deceive himself here, for here the patent medicine is nakedest, most cold-hearted. Relentless greed sets the trap and death is partner in the enterprise.
Advertising and testimonials are respectively the aggressive and defensive forces of the Great American Fraud. Without the columns of the newspapers and magazines wherein to exploit themselves, a great majority of the patent medicines would peacefully and blessedly fade out of existence. Nearly all the world of publications is open to the swindler, the exceptions being the high-class magazines and a very few independent spirited newspapers. The strongholds of the fraud are dailies, great and small, the cheap weeklies and the religious press. According to the estimate of a prominent advertising firm, above 90 per cent, of the earning capacity of the prominent nostrums is represented by their advertising. And all this advertising is based on the well-proven theory of the public's pitiable ignorance and gullibility in the vitally important matter of health.
Study the medicine advertising in your morning paper, and you will find yourself in a veritable goblin-realm of fakery, peopled with monstrous myths. Here is an amulet in the form of an electric belt, warranted to restore youth and vigor to the senile; yonder a magic ring or a mysterious inhaler, or a bewitched foot-plaster which will draw the pangs of rheumatism from the tortured body "or your money back"; and again some beneficent wizard in St. Louis promises with a secret philtre to charm away deadly cancer, while in the next column a firm of magi in Denver proposes confidently to exorcise the demon of incurable consumption without ever seeing the patient. Is it credible that a supposedly civilized nation should accept such stuff as gospel? Yet these exploitations cited above, while they are extreme, differ only in degree from nearly all patent-medicine advertising. Ponce de Leon, groping toward that dim fountain whence youth springs eternal, might believe that he had found his goal in the Peruna factory, the Liquozone "laboratory" or the Vitæ-Ore plant; his thousands of descendants in this century of enlightenment painfully drag themselves along poisoned trails, following a will-o'-the-wisp that dances above the open graves.
If there is no limit to the gullibility of the public on the one hand, there is apparently none to the cupidity of the newspapers on the other. As the Proprietary Association of America is constantly setting forth in veiled warnings, the press takes an enormous profit from patent-medicine advertising. Mr. Hearst's papers alone reap a harvest of more than half a million dollars per annum from this source. The ChicagoTribune, which treats nostrum advertising in a spirit of independence, and sometimes with scant courtesy, still receives more than $80,000 a year in medical patronage. Many of the lesser journals actually live on patent medicines. What wonder that they are considerate of these profitable customers! Pin a newspaper owner down to the issue of fraud in the matter, and he will take refuge in the plea that his advertisers and not himself are responsible for what appears in the advertising columns.Caveat emptoris the implied superscription above this department. The more shame to those publicationswhich prostitute their news and editorial departments to their greed. Here are two samples, one from the ClevelandPlain-Dealer, the other from a temperance weekly, Green Goods "Cable News."
The "Ascatco" advertisement, which the Plain-Dealer prints as a cablegram, without any distinguishing mark to designate it as an advertisement, of course, emanates from the office of the nostrum, and is a fraud, as thePlain-Dealerwell knew when it accepted payment, and became partner to the swindle by deceiving its readers. Tne Vitæ-Ore "editorial" appears by virtue of a full-page advertisement of this extraordinary fake in the same issue.
Whether, because church-going people are more trusting, and therefore more easily befooled than others, or from some more obscure reason, many of the religious papers fairly reek with patent-medicine fakes. Take, for instance, theChristian Endeavor World, which is the undenominational organ of a large, powerful and useful organization, unselfishly working toward the betterment of society. A subscriber who recently complained of certain advertisements received the following reply from the business manager of the publication:
"Dear Sir:—Your letter of the 4th comes to me for reply. Appreciating the good spirit in which you write, let me assure you that, to the best of our knowledge and belief, we are not publishing any fraudulent or unworthy medicine advertising. We decline every year thousands of dollars' worth of patent-medicine advertising that we think is either fraudulent or misleading. You would be surprised, very likely, if you could know of the people of high intelligence and good character who are benefited by thesemedicines. We have taken a great deal of pains to make particular inquiries of our subscribers with respect to this question, and a very large percentage of them are devoted to one or more well-known patent medicines, and regard them as household remedies. Trusting that you will be able to understand that we are acting according to our best and sincerest judgment, I remain, yours very truly,
"The Golden Rule Company,
"George W. Coleman, Business Manager"
Running through half a dozen recent issues of theChristian Endeavor World, I find nineteen medical advertisements of, at best, dubious nature. Assuming that the business management of theChristian Endeavor Worldrepresents normal intelligence, I would like to ask whether it accepts the statement that a pair of "magic foot drafts" applied to the bottom of the feet will cure any and every kind of rheumatism in any part of the body? Further, if the advertising department is genuinely interested in declining "fraudulent or misleading" copy, I would call their attention to the ridiculous claims of Dr. Shoop's medicines, which "cure" almost every disease; to two hair removers, one an "Indian Secret," the other an "accidental discovery," both either fakes or dangerous; to the lying claims of Hall's Catarrh Cure, that it is "a positive cure for catarrh" in all its stages to "Syrup of Figs," which is not a fig syrup, but a preparation of senna; to Dr. Kilmer's Swamp Root, of which the principal medicinal constituent is alcohol; and, finally, to Dr. Bye's Oil Cure for cancer, a particularly cruel swindle on unfortunates suffering from an incurable malady. All of these, with other matter, which for the sake of decency I do not care to detail in these columns, appear in recent issues of theChristian Endeavor World, and are respectfully submitted to its management and its readers.
The Baptist Watchman of Oct. 12, 1905, prints an editorial defending the principle of patent medicines. It would be interesting to know whether the back page of the number has any connection with the editorial. This page is given up to an illustrated advertisement of Vito-Ore, one of the boldest fakes in the whole Frauds' Gallery. Vitæ-Ore claims to be a mineral mined from "an extinct mineral spring," and to contain free iron, free sulphur and free magnesium. It contains no free iron, no free sulphur, and no free magnesium. It announces itself as "a certain and never-failing cure" for rheumatism and Bright's disease, dropsy, blood poisoning, nervous prostration and general debility, among other maladies. Whether it is, as asserted, mined from an extinct spring or bucketed from a sewer has no bearing on its utterly fraudulent character. There is no "certain and never-failing cure" for the diseases in its list, and when theBaptist Watchmansells itself to such an exploitation it becomes partner to a swindle not only on the pockets of its readers, but on their health as well. In the same issue I find "Piso's Cure for Consumption,"
"Bye's Cancer Cure,"
"Mrs. M. Summer's Female Remedy,"
"Winslow's Soothing Syrup," and "Juven Pills," somewhat disguised here, but in other mediums openly a sexual weakness "remedy."
A correspondent sends me clippings fromThe Christian Century, leading off with an interesting editorial entitled "Our Advertisers," from which I quote in part:
"We take pleasure in calling the attention of our readers to the high grade of advertising whichThe Christian Centurycommands. We shall continue to advertise only such companies as we know to be thoroughly reliable. During the past year we have refused thousands of dollars'worth of advertising which other religious journals are running, but which is rated 'objectionable' by the better class of periodicals. Compare our advertising columns with the columns of any other purely religious journal, and let us know what you think of the character of our advertising patrons."
Whether the opinion of a non-subscriber will interestThe Christian CenturyI have no means of knowing, but I will venture it. My opinion is that a considerable proportion of its advertisements are such as any right-minded and intelligent publisher should be ashamed to print, and that if its readers accept its endorsement of the advertising columns they will have a very heavy indictment to bring against it. Three "cancer cures," a dangerous "heart cure," a charlatan eye doctor, Piso's Consumption Cure, Dr. Shoop's Rheumatism Cure and Liquozone make up a pretty fair "Frauds' Gallery" for the delectation ofThe Christian Century'sreaders.
As a convincing argument, many nostrums guarantee, not a cure, as they would have the public believe, but a reimbursement if the medicine is unsatisfactory.
Liquozone does this, and faithfully carries out its agreement. Electro-gen, a new "germicide," which has stolen Liquozone's advertising scheme almost word for word, also promises this. Dr. Shoop's agreementis so worded that the unsatisfied customer is likely to have considerable trouble in getting his money back. Other concerns send their "remedies" free on trial, among these being the ludicrous "magic foot drafts" referred to above. At first thought it would seem that only a cure would bring profit to the makers. But the fact is that most diseases tend to cure themselves by natural means, and the delighted and deluded patient, ascribing the relief to the "remedy," which really has nothing to do with it, sends on his grateful dollar. Where the money is already paid, most people are too inert to undertake the effort of getting it back. It is the easy American way of accepting a swindle as a sort of joke, which makes for the nostrum readers ready profits.
Then there is the "reward for proof" that the proprietary will not perform the wonders advertised. The Liquozone Company offer $1,000, I believe, for any germ that Liquozone will not kill. This is a pretty safe offer, because there are no restrictions as to the manner in which the unfortunate germ might be maltreated. If the matter came to an issue, the defendants might put their bacillus in the Liquozone bottle and freeze him solid. If that didn't end him, they could boil the ice and save their money, as thus far no germ has been discovered which can survive the process of being made into soup. Nearly all of the Hall Catarrh Cure advertisements offer a reward of $100 for any case of catarrh which the nostrum fails to cure. It isn't enough, though one hundred times that amount might be worth while; for who doubts that Mr. F. J. Cheney, inventor of the "red clause," would fight for his cure through every court, exhausting the prospective $100 reward of his opponent in the first round? How hollow the "guarantee" pretence is, is shown by a clever scheme devised by Radam, the quack, years ago, when Shreveport was stricken with yellow fever. Knowing that his offer could not be accepted, he proposed to the United States Government that he should eradicate the epidemic by destroying all the germs with Radam's Microbe Killer, offering to deposit $10,000 as a guarantee. Of course, the Government declined on the ground that it had no power to accept such an offer. Meantime, Radam got a lot of free advertising, and his fortune was made.
No little stress is laid on "personal advice" by the patent-medicine companies. This may be, according to the statements of the firm, from their physician or from some special expert. As a matter of fact, it is almost invariably furnished by a $10-a-week typewriter, following out one of a number of "form" letters prepared in bulk for the "personal-inquiry" dupes. Such is the Lydia E. Pinkham method. The Pinkham Company writes me that it is entirely innocent of any intent to deceive people into believing that Lydia E. Pinkham is still alive, and that it has published in several cases statements regarding her demise. It is true that a number of years ago a newspaper forced the Pinkham concern into a defensive admission of Lydia E. Pinkham's death, but since then the main purpose of the Pinkham advertising has been to befool the feminine public into believing that their letters go to a woman—who died nearly twenty years ago of one of the diseases, it is said, which her remedy claims to cure.