Reprinted from Collier's Weekly, Feb. 17, 1906. {057}

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.

Newspaper Accomplices.

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 Chicago _Tribune_,

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 emptor_ is the implied superscription above this

department. The more shame to those publications {058}which prostitute

their news and editorial departments to their greed. Here are two

samples, one from the Cleveland _Plain-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 the _Plain-Dealer_ well 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, the _Christian 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 these {059}medicines. 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 the _Christian Endeavor

World_, I find nineteen medical advertisements of, at best, dubious

nature. Assuming that the business management of the _Christian Endeavor

World_ represents 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 the _Christian Endeavor

World_, and are respectfully submitted to its management and its

readers.

Quackery and Religion.

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 the _Baptist Watchman_ sells 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 from _The 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 which _The Christian Century_ commands. 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'

{060}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 interest _The Christian

Century_ I 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 of _The Christian

Century's_ readers.

[IMAGE ==>] {060}

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 agreement

{061}is 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.

Safe Rewards.

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.

The Immortal Mrs. Pinkham.

True, the newspaper appeal is always "Write to Mrs. Pinkham," and this

is technically a saving clause, as there is a Mrs. Pinkham, widow of the

son of Lydia E. Pinkham. What sense of shame she might be supposed to

suffer in the perpetration of an obvious and public fraud is presumably

{062}salved by the large profits of the business. The great majority

of the gulls who "write to Mrs. Pinkham" suppose themselves to be

addressing Lydia E. Pinkham, and their letters are not even answered by

the present proprietor of the name, but by a corps of hurried clerks and

typewriters.

You get the same result when you write to Dr. Hartman, of Peruna, for

personal guidance. Dr. Hartman himself told me that he took no active

part now in the conduct of the Peruna Company. If he sees the letters

addressed to him at all, it is by chance. "Dr. Kilmer," of Swamp-Root

fame, wants you to write to him about your kidneys. There is no Dr.

Kilmer in the Swamp-Root concern, and has not been for many years. Dr.

T. A. Slocum, who writes you so earnestly and piously about taking care

of your consumption in time, is a myth. The whole "personal medical

advice" business is managed by rote, and the letter that you get

"special to your case" has been printed and signed before your inquiry

ever reached the shark who gets your money.

An increasingly common pitfall is the letter in the newspapers from some

sufferer who has been saved from disease and wants you to write and get

the prescription free. A conspicuous instance of this is "A Notre

Dame Lady's Appeal" to sufferers from rheumatism and also from female

trouble. "Mrs. Summers," of Notre Dame, Ill., whose picture in the

papers represents a fat Sister of Charity, with the wan, uneasy

expression of one who feels that her dinner isn't digesting properly,

may be a real lady, but I suspect she wears a full beard and talks in

a bass voice, because my letter of inquiry to her was answered by the

patent medicine firm of Vanderhoof & Co., who inclosed some sample

tablets and wanted to sell me more. There are many others of this class.

It is safe to assume that every advertising altruist who pretends to

give out free prescriptions is really a quack medicine firm in disguise.

One more instance of bad faith to which the nostrum patron renders

himself liable: It is asserted that these letters of inquiry in the

patent medicine field are regarded as private. "All correspondence

held strictly private and sacredly confidential," advertises Dr. R. V.

Pierce, of the Golden Medical Discovery, etc. A Chicago firm of letter

brokers offers to send me 50,000 Dr. Pierce order blanks at $2 a

thousand for thirty days; or I can get terms on Ozomulsion, Theodore

Noel (Vitæ-Ore), Dr. Stevens' Nervous Debility Cure, Cactus Cure,

women's regulators, etc.

With advertisements in the medical journals the public is concerned only

indirectly, it is true, but none the less vitally. Only doctors read

these exploitations, but if they accept certain of them and treat their

patients on the strength of the mendacious statements it is at the peril

of the patients. Take, for instance, the Antikamnia advertising which

appears in most of the high-class medical journals, and which includes

the following statements:

"Do not depress the heart.

Do not produce habit.

Are accurate--safe--sure."

These three lines, reproduced as they occur in the medical journals,

contain five distinct and separate lies--a triumph of condensed

mendacity unequaled, so far as I know, in the "cure all" class. For an

instructive parallel here are two claims made by Duffy's Malt Whiskey,

one taken from a medical journal, and hence "ethical," the other

transcribed from a daily paper and therefore to be condemned by all

medical men.

Puzzle: Which is the ethical and which the unethical advertisement?

[IMAGE ==>] {063}

"It is the only cure and preventative [sic] of consumption, pneumonia,

grip, bronchitis, coughs, colds, malaria, low fevers and all wasting,

weakening, diseased conditions." {064}

"Cures general debility, overwork, la grippe, colds, bronchitis,

consumption, malaria, dyspepsia, depression, exhaustion and weakness

from whatever cause."

All the high-class medical publications accept the advertising

of "McArthur's Syrup of Hypophosphites," which uses the following

statement: "It is the enthusiastic conviction of many (physicians) that

its effect is truly specific." That looks to me suspiciously like a

"consumption cure" shrewdly expressed in pseudo-ethical terms.

The Germicide Family.

Zymoticine, if one may believe various medical publications, "will

prevent microbe proliferation in the blood streams, and acts as an

efficient eliminator of those germs and their toxins which are already

present." Translating this from its technical language, I am forced to

the conviction that Zymoticine is half-brother to Liquozone, and if the

latter is illegitimate at least both are children of Beelzebub, father

of all frauds. Of the same family are the "ethicals" Acetozone and

Keimol, as shown by their germicidal claims.

Again, I find exploited to the medical profession, through its own

organa, a "sure cure for dropsy."

"Hygeia presents her latest discovery," declares the advertisement, and

fortifies the statement with a picture worthy of Swamp-Root or Lydia

Pinkham. Every intelligent physician knows that there is no sure cure

for dropsy. The alternative implication is that the advertiser hopes to

get his profit by deluding the unintelligent of the profession, and

that the publications which print his advertisement are willing to hire

themselves out to the swindle.

In one respect some of the medical journals are far below the average of

the newspapers, and on a par with the worst of the "religious" journals.

They offer their reading space for sale. Here is an extract from a

letter from the _Medical Mirror_ to a well-known "ethical firm":

"Should you place a contract for this issue we shall publish a 300-word

report in your interest in our reading columns."

Many other magazines of this class print advertisements as original

reading matter calculated to deceive their subscribers.

Back of all patent medicine advertising stands the testimonial. Produce

proofs that any nostrum can not in its nature perform the wonders that

it boasts, and its retort is to wave aloft its careful horde or letters

and cry:

"We rest on the evidence of those we have cured."

The crux of the matter lies in the last word. Are the writers of those,

letters really cured? What is the value of these testimonials? Are

they genuine? Are they honest? Are they, in their nature and from their

source, entitled to such weight as would convince a reasonable mind?

Three distinct types suggest themselves: The word of grateful

acknowledgement from a private citizen, couched in such terms as to

be readily available for advertising purposes; the encomium from some

person in public life, and the misspelled, illiterate epistle which is

from its nature so unconvincing that it never gets into print, and which

outnumbers the other two classes a hundred to one. First of all,

most nostrums make a point of the mass of evidence. Thousands of

testimonials, they declare, {065}just as valuable for their purposes as

those they print, are in their files. This is not true. I have taken

for analysis, as a fair sample, the "World's Dispensary Medical Book,"

published by the proprietors of Pierce's Favorite Prescription, the

Golden Medical Discovery, Pleasant Pellets, the Pierce Hospital, etc. As

the dispensers of several nostrums, and because of their long career in

the business, this firm should be able to show as large a collection of

favorable letters as any proprietary concern.

Overworked Testimonials.

In their book, judiciously scattered, I find twenty-six letters twice

printed, four letters thrice printed and two letters produced four

times. Yet the compilers of the book "have to regret" (editorially) that

they can "find room only for this comparatively small number in this

volume." Why repeat those they have if this is true? If enthusiastic

indorsements poured in on the patent medicine people, the Duffy's Malt

Whiskey advertising management would hardly be driven to purchasing

its letters from the very aged and from disreputable ministers of the

gospel. If all the communications were as convincing as those published,

the Peruna Company would not have to employ an agent to secure

publishable letters, nor the Liquozone Company indorse across the face

of a letter from a Mrs. Benjamin Charters: "Can change as we see fit."

Many, in fact I believe I may say almost all, of the newspaper-exploited

testimonials are obtained at an expense to the firm. Agents are

employed to secure them. This costs money. Druggists get a discount

for forwarding letters from their customers. This costs money. Persons

willing to have their picture printed get a dozen photographs for

themselves. This costs money. Letters of inquiry answered by givers

of testimonials bring a price--25 cents per letter, usually. Here is a

document sent out periodically by the Peruna Company to keep in line its

"unsolicited" beneficiaries:

"As you are aware, we have your testimonial to our remedy. It has been

some time since we have heard from you, and so we thought best to

make inquiry as to your present state of health and whether you still

occasionally make use of Peruna. We also want to make sure that we have

your present street address correctly, and that you are making favorable

answers to such letters of inquiry which your testimonial may occasion.

Remember that we allow 25 cents for each letter of inquiry. You have

only to send the letter you receive, together with a copy of your reply

to the same, and we will forward you 25 cents for each pair of letters.

"We hope you are still a friend of Peruna and that our continued use

of your testimonial will be agreeable to you. We are inclosing stamped

envelope for reply. Very sincerely yours,

"The Peruna Drug Manufacturing Company,

"Per Carr."

And here is an account of another typical method of collecting this sort

of material, the writer being a young New Orleans man, who answered an

advertisement in a local paper, offering profitable special work to a

news paper man with spare time:

"I found the advertiser to be a woman, the coarseness of whose features

was only equaled by the vulgarity of her manners and speech, and whose

self-assertiveness was in proportion to her bulk. She proposed that I

set about securing testimonials to the excellent qualities of Peruna,

which she pronounced 'Pay-Runa,' for which I was to receive a fee of $5

to $10, according to the prominence of 'the guy' from whom I obtained

it. This I declined {066}flatly. She then inquired whether or not I was

a member of any social organizations or clubs in the city, and receiving

a positive answer she offered me $3 for a testimonial, including the

statement that Pay-Runa had been used by the members of the Southern

Athletic Club with good effects, and raised it to $5 before I left.

"Upon my asking her what her business was before she undertook the

Pay-Runa work, she became very angry. Now, when a female is both very

large and very angry, the best thing for a small, thin young man to do

is to leave her to her thoughts and the expression thereof. I did it."

[IMAGE: ==>] {066}

No Questions Desired.

{067} Testimonials obtained in this way are, in a sense, genuine; that

is, the nostrum firm has documentary evidence that they were given;

but it is hardly necessary to state that they are not honest. Often

the handling of the material is very careless, as in the case of Doan's

Kidney Pills, which ran an advertisement in a Southern city embodying

a letter from a resident of that city who had been dead nearly a year.

Cause of death, kidney disease.

In a former article I have touched on the matter of testimonials

from public men. These are obtained through special agents, through

hangers-on of the newspaper business who wheedle them out of congressmen

or senators, and sometimes through agencies which make a specialty of

that business. A certain Washington firm made a "blanket offer" to a

nostrum company of a $100 joblot of testimonials, consisting of one

De Wolf Hopper, one Sarah Bernhardt and six "statesmen," one of them a

United States senator. Whether they had Mr. Hopper and Mme. Bernhardt

under agreement or were simply dealing in futures I am unable to say,

but the offer was made in business-like fashion. And the "divine Sarah"

at least seems to be an easy subject for patent medicines, as her

letters to them are by no means rare. Congressmen are notoriously easy

to get, and senators are by no means beyond range. There are several

men now in the United States Senate who have, at one time or another,

prostituted their names to the uses of fraud medicines, which they do

not use and of which they know nothing. Naval officers seem to be easy

marks. Within a few weeks a retired admiral of our navy has besmirched

himself and his service by acting as pictorial sales agent for Peruna.

If one carefully considers the "testimonials" of this class it will

appear that few of the writers state that they have ever tried the

nostrum. We may put down the "public man's" indorsement, then, as

genuine (documentarily), but not honest. Certainly it can bear no weight

with an intelligent reader.

Almost as eagerly sought for as this class of letter is the medical

indorsement. Medical testimony exploiting any medicine advertised in the

lay press withers under investigation. In the Liquozone article of this

series I showed how medical evidence is itself "doctored." This was

an extreme instance, for Liquozone, under its original administration,

exhibited less conscience in its methods than any of its competitors

that I have encountered. Where the testimony itself is not distorted, it

is obtained under false pretences or it comes from men of no standing in

the profession. Some time ago Duffy's Malt Whiskey sent out an agent to

get testimonials from hospitals. He got them. How he got them is told

in a letter from the physician in charge of a prominent Pennsylvania

institution:

"A very nice appearing man called here one day and sent in his card,

bearing the name of Dr. Blank (I can't recall the name, but wish I

could), a graduate of Vermont University. He was as smooth an article as

I have ever been up against, and I have met a good many. He at once

got down to business and began to talk of the hospitals he had visited,

mentioning physicians whom I knew either personally or by reputation. He

then brought out a lot of documents for me to peruse, all of which were

bona fide affairs, from the various institutions, signed by the various

physicians or resident physicians, setting forth the merits or use of

'Duffy's Malt Whiskey.' He asked if I had ever used it. I said yes, but

very little, and was at the time using some, a fact, as I was sampling

what he handed me. He then placed about a dozen small bottles, holding

possibly two ounces, on the table, and said I should keep it, and he

would send me two quarts free for use here as soon as he got back."

Getting a Testimonial from a Physician.

{068} "He next asked me if I would give him a testimonial regarding

Duffy's Whiskey. I said I did not do such things, as it was against

my principles to do so. 'But this is not for publication,' he said. I

replied that I had used but little of it, and found it only the same as

any other whisky. He then asked if I was satisfied with the results as

far as I had used it. I replied that I was. He then asked me to state

that much, and I very foolishly said I would, on condition that it was

not to be used as an advertisement, and he assured me it would not be

used. I then, in a few words, said that 'I (or we) have used and are

using Duffy's Malt Whiskey, and are satisfied with the results,' signing

my name to the same. He left here, and what was my surprise to receive

later on a booklet in which was my testimonial and many others, with

cuts of hospitals ranging along with people who had reached 100 years by

use of the whisky, while seemingly all ailments save ringbone and spavin

were being cured by this wonderful beverage. I was provoked, but was

paid as I deserved, for allowing a smooth tongue to deceive me. Duffy's

Malt Whiskey has never been inside this place since that day and never

will be while I have any voice to prevent it. The total amount used at

the time and before was less than half a gallon."

This hospital is still used as a reference by the Duffy people.

Many of the ordinary testimonials which come unsolicited to the

extensively advertised nostrums in great numbers are both genuine and

honest. What of their value as evidence?

Some years ago, so goes a story familiar in the drug trade, the general

agent for a large jobbing house declared that he could put out an

article possessing not the slightest remedial or stimulant properties,

and by advertising it skillfully so persuade people of its virtues that

it would receive unlimited testimonials to the cure of any disease for

which he might choose to exploit it. Challenged to a bet, he became a

proprietary owner. Within a year he had won his wager with a collection

of certified "cures" ranging from anemia to pneumonia. Moreover, he

found his venture so profitable that he pushed it to the extent of

thousands of dollars of profits. His "remedy" was nothing but sugar. I

have heard "Kaskine" mentioned as the "cure" in the case. It answers the

requirements, or did answer them at that time, according to an analysis

by the Massachusetts State Board of Health, which shows that its

purchasers had been paying $1 an ounce for pure granulated sugar.

Whether "Kaskine" was indeed the subject of this picturesque bet, or

whether it was some other harmless fraud, is immaterial to the point,

which is that where the disease cures itself, as nearly all diseases

do, the medicine gets the benefit of this _viæ medicatriæ naturæ_--the

natural corrective force which makes for normal health in every human

organism. Obviously, the sugar testimonials can not be regarded as very

weighty evidence.

Testimonials for a Magic Ring.

There is being advertised now a finger ring which by the mere wearing

cures any form of rheumatism. The maker of that ring has genuine letters

from people who believe that they have been cured by it. Would any one

other than a believer in witchcraft accept those statements? Yet they

are just as "genuine" as the bulk of patent medicine letters and written

in as good faith. A very small proportion of the gratuitous indorsements

get into the newspapers, because, as I have said, they do not lend

themselves {069}well to advertising purposes. I have looked over the

originals of hundreds of such letters, and more than 90 per cent, of

them--that is a very conservative estimate--are from illiterate and

obviously ignorant people. Even those few that can be used are rendered

suitable for publication only by careful editing. The geographical

distribution is suggestive. Out of 100 specimens selected at random

from the Pierce testimonial book, eighty-seven are from small,

remote hamlets, whose very names are unfamiliar to the average man of

intelligence. Only five are from cities of more than 50,000 inhabitants.

Now, Garden City, Kas.; North Yamhill, Ore.; Theresa, Jefferson County,

N. Y.; Parkland, Ky., and Forest Hill, W. Va., may produce an excellent

brand of Americanism, but one does not look for a very high average of

intelligence in such communities. Is it only a coincidence that the

mountain districts of Kentucky, West Virginia and Tennessee, recognized

as being the least civilized parts of the country, should furnish a

number of testimonials, not only to Pierce, but to Peruna, Paine's

Celery Compound and other brands, out of all proportion to their

population? On page 65 {065} is a group of Pierce enthusiasts and a

group of Peruna witnesses. Should you, on the face of this exhibit,

accept their advice on a matter wholly affecting your physical welfare?

This is what the advertiser is asking you to do.

Secure as is the present control of the Proprietary Association over the

newspapers, there is one point in which I believe almost any journal may

be made to feel the force of public opinion, and that is the matter of

common decency. Newspapers pride themselves on preserving a respectable

moral standard in their news columns, and it would require no great

pressure on the part of the reading public (which is surely immediately

interested) to extend this standard to the advertising columns. I am

referring now not only to the unclean sexual, venereal and abortion

advertisements which deface the columns of a majority of papers, but

also to the exploitation of several prominent proprietaries.

Recently a prominent Chicago physician was dining _en famille_ with a

friend who is the publisher of a rather important paper in a Western

city. The publisher was boasting that he had so established the

editorial and news policy of his paper that every line of it could be

read without shame in the presence of any adult gathering.

"Never anything gets in," he declared, "that I couldn't read at this

table before my wife, son and daughter."

The visitor, a militant member of his profession, snuffed battle from

afar. "Have the morning's issue brought," he said. Turning to the second

page he began on Swift's Sure Specific, which was headed in large black

type with the engaging caption, "Vile, Contagious Blood Poison." Before

he had gone far the 19-year-old daughter of the family, obedient to

a glance from the mother, had gone to answer an opportune ring at the

telephone, and the publisher had grown very red in the face.

"I didn't mean the advertisements," he said.

"I did," said the visitor, curtly, and passed on to one of the extremely

intimate, confidential and highly corporeal letters to the ghost of

Lydia E. Pinkham, which are a constant ornament of the press. The

publisher's son interrupted:

"I don't believe that was written for me to hear," he observed. "I'm

too young--only 25, you know. Call me when you're through. I'll be out

looking at the moon."

Relentlessly the physician turned the sheet and began on one of the

Chattanooga Medical Company's physiological editorials, entitled "What

{070}Men Like in a Girl." For loathsome and gratuitous indecency, for

leering appeal to their basest passions, this advertisement and the

others of the Wine of Cardui series sound the depths. The hostess lasted

through the second paragraph, when she fled, gasping.

"Now," said the physician to his host, "what do you think of yourself?"

The publisher found no answer, but thereafter his paper was put under

a censorship of advertising. Many dailies refuse such "copy" as this of

Wine of Cardui. And here, I believe, is an opportunity for the entering

wedge. If every subscriber to a newspaper who is interested in keeping

his home free from contamination would protest and keep on protesting

against advertising foulness of this nature, the medical advertiser

would soon be restricted to the same limits of decency which other

classes of merchandise accept as a matter of course, for the average

newspaper publisher is quite sensitive to criticism from his readers. A

recent instance came under my own notice in the case of the _Auburn_ (N.

Y.) _Citizen_, which bought out an old-established daily, taking over

the contracts, among which was a large amount of low-class patent

medicine advertising. The new proprietor, a man of high personal

standards, assured his friends that no objectionable matter would be

permitted in his columns. Shortly after the establishment of the new

paper there appeared an advertisement of Juven Pills, referred to above.

Protests from a number of subscribers followed. Investigation showed

that a so-called "reputable" patent medicine firm had inserted this

disgraceful paragraph under their contract. Further insertions of the

offending matter were refused and the Hood Company meekly accepted the

situation. Another central New York daily, the _Utica Press_, rejects

such "copy" as seems to the manager indecent, and I have yet to hear of

the paper's being sued for breach of contract. No perpetrator of unclean

advertising can afford to go to court on this ground, because he knows

that his matter is indefensible.

Our national quality of commercial shrewdness fails us when we go into

the open market to purchase relief from suffering. The average American,

when he sets out to buy a horse, or a house, or a box of cigars, is a

model of caution. Show him testimonials from any number of prominent

citizens and he would simply scoff. He will, perhaps, take the word of

his life-long friend, or of the pastor of his church, but only after

mature thought, fortified by personal investigation. Now observe the

same citizen seeking to buy the most precious of all possessions, sound

health. Anybody's word is good enough for him here. An admiral whose

puerile vanity has betrayed him into a testimonial; an obliging and

conscienceless senator; a grateful idiot from some remote hamlet; a

renegade doctor or a silly woman who gets a bonus of a dozen photographs

for her letter--any of these are sufficient to lure the hopeful patient

to the purchase. He wouldn't buy a second-hand bicycle on the affidavit

of any of them, but he will give up his dollar and take his chance of

poison on a mere newspaper statement which he doesn't even investigate.

Every intelligent newspaper publisher knows that the testimonials which

he publishes are as deceptive as the advertising claims are false. Yet

he salves his conscience with the fallacy that the moral responsibility

is on the advertiser and the testimonial-giver. So it is, but the

newspaper shares it. When an aroused public sentiment shall make our

public men ashamed to lend themselves to this charlatanry, and shall

enforce on the profession of journalism those standards of decency in

the field of medical advertising which apply to other advertisers, the

Proprietary {071}Association of America will face a crisis more

perilous than any threatened legislation. For printers' ink is the very

life-blood of the noxious trade. Take from the nostrum vendors the means

by which they influence the millions, and there will pass to the limbo

of pricked bubbles a fraud whose flagrancy and impudence are of minor

import compared to the cold-hearted greed with which it grinds out its

profits from the sufferings of duped and eternally hopeful ignorance.

The Great American Fraud The Patent Medicine Evil · 第 35 / 44 题