effectual method of cure." In a pamphlet on
the influence of the tractors, Perkins stated that
"he had crossed the Atlantic and become a resident
in London, that he might devote his time
and attention to the diffusion of this important
discovery, and its application to the miseries of
mankind." He alleged that among his
testimonials were vouchers from "eight professors
in four universities in the various branches as
follows: three of natural philosophy, four of
medicine, one of natural history; to these may
be added nineteen physicians, seventeen
surgeons, and twenty clergymen, of whom ten are
doctors of divinity, and many others of equal
respectability." Very soon, however, Dr.
Haygarth and Mr. Smith in this country, and
Schumacker in Germany, showed that they could
produce equally marvellous effects with "false
tractors" made of wax and wood, provided only
that the patients did not know the deceit
practised upon them, and had entire confidence in
the method of cure employed. The paralytic
were made to walk, rheumatic pains were put to
flight, and, during the operation of pointing the
false tractors to the part of the body affected,
the pulse was visibly influenced. In one case
they produced an increase of pain instead of
relieving it, and the patient declared that after
their use for four minutes, he was in more pain
than when the surgeon took five pieces of bone
from his leg, after a compound fracture in
Wales, and his pulse was raised to one hundred
and twenty beats a minute.

Contemporaneous with Perkins were the Jew
doctors, Brodun and Solomon. The former was
footman to Dr. Bossy, a learned physician of
those days, and having obtained some knowledge
of medical terms, resolved to turn doctor
himself. He brought out a "Nervous Cordial"
and Botanical Syrup, which were announced to
be grand restoratives of nature, and he secured
patents for them. He published, also, a
Guide to Old Age, with a portrait of the
author, and puffed it so judiciously that, according
to his own account, it went through fifty
editions. After travelling about England, he
at length determined to settle in the metropolis,
"the Paradise of quacks," and, after a run of
success, attempted to get himself appointed an
officer of volunteers, but eventually failed.
Famous Dr. Solomon, in his youthful days,
gained a livelihood by hawking black-ball in
Newcastle. Regarding this employment as too
menial, he turned his attention to cleansing
ladies' faces from spots and freckles, by an
"abstringent lotion." Afterwards he attempted
to establish a newspaper in Liverpool, but not
succeeding, tried to sell it, unestablished as
it was. His great exploit was the fabrication of
the Cordial Balm of Gilead, and the publication
with it of a Guide to Health. In his
Guide he informs the public, "that the most
learned physicians have been unable to discover
in the Cordial Balm of Gilead the least
particle of mercury, antimony, iron, or any other
mineral except gold (pure virgin gold), and the
balm of Mecca." A portrait adorns this valuable
medical work, and an engraving of the
great man's house, with a scale of measurement.

The Balm of Gilead had a large sale, and
seems to have been a pleasant beverage. On
one occasion a tradesman at Everton, near
Liverpool, discovered, to his great regret, that
his wife, though formerly modest and
temperate, had suddenly become a dram-drinker.
Enraged at her depravity, he interrogated
her so sternly, that she confessed she had
been allured to the pernicious habit by sipping
the Balm of Gilead and other nostrums. She
then produced the empty bottles which had
contained these intoxicating cordials, and told
her husband that three of her female
neighbours had also been deluded into the same
habit. The tradesman thereupon concerted a
plan with the other injured husbands to
chastise the Jew doctor. They decoyed him to
Everton on the pretence of attending a patient,
and meeting him on the way, disguised as
devils, with cow-hide and horns, dragged him
into a field, and compelled him to swallow a
whole bottle of his own nostrum. The doctor
invoked Moses and all the Prophets to deliver
him from the demons; but they proceeded to
toss him in a blanket, all the while filling the
air with hisses and execrations. At length,
permitted to return home, he was so convinced
of the supernatural character of the punishment
inflicted upon him for his impositions, that he
advertised his premises to be let or sold.

On one occasion the British Parliament, carried
away by the public enthusiasm for a secret
remedy called Stephen's Specific, which was
believed to be infallible in cases of gravel and
stone, voted five thousand pounds for its
purchase. The composition of Mrs. Stephen's
remedy was thereafter officially published in the
London Gazette, but the mixture of ingredients
was so unexpectedly absurd that the
publication was fatal to its reputation. "It
consisted of egg-shells and snail-shells, with the
snails in them, all calcined, ash-keys, hips and
haws, swine-cress, and various other vegetables,
all burned to a cinder, with camomile flowers,
fennel, and some other vegetables—these last
not being burned in the same manner." Dr.
Hartley, the metaphysician, nevertheless
published an octavo volume in favour of Mrs.
Stephen's alleged specific, adducing one hundred
and fifty cases in proof of its efficiency, his own
being amongst the number. Dr. Hartley,
however, died of the disease for which he believed
Mrs. Stephen's specific to be an infallible remedy,
and of which he believed himself to be cured.

However much we may be disposed to smile
at the simplicity of our ancestors in giving
credence to the vendors of secret remedies, it
must not be forgotten that a whole host of them
flourish in our own day, and draw annually large
sums from the pockets of the public. They
seem naturally to divide themselves into two
classes: one offering to the world an universal
panacea for all diseases and all cases of disease;
the other professing a speciality, or confining
themselves to the treatment of special diseases.