htly,
making no effort to allay their anxiety--a course which often leads them
to apply for aid in illegitimate quarters, and to become the victims of
unprincipled men."

In some instances it is a clergyman who is the reputed advertiser, who,
as in the following unabridged "Ad," widely circulated in the country
papers, wishes to communicate to suffering humanity "the recipe that
will cure you free of charge":

*A Card.*
To all who an suffering from the errors and indiscretions of youth,
nervous weakness, early decay, loss of manhood, etc., I will lend a
recipe that will cure you, FREE OF CHARGE. This great remedy was
discovered by a missionary in South America. Send a self-addressed
envelope to the Rev. * * * * Station D, New York City.

Then there are the "Retired Philanthropic Physicians," and the "Patients
Who have been Cured," _et hoc genus omne_, who, with such rare
disinterestedness, incur large weekly expenses in advertising their
willingness to forward to sufferers the means of self-cure "on receipt
of two postage stamps." In a word, one and all of these pirates have
only one common aim and aspiration--to fleece the fools who are
credulous enough to seek their aid.

The main point to attain in this business is to decoy the victim to the
advertiser's den or office. Once there, he is impressed with the
multifarious engagements of the human decoy-spider who is probably
appraising his prey through a peep-hole. By and by, the patient's
anxiety is dissipated by the appearance of the pretended Medicus, and he
proceeds to give all the painful details of his case, while the
listener, by looks and words, does everything to increase his alarm. The
history finished, questions will be asked him as to his avocations,
position and income, all apparently with the view of elucidating the
points of his case, but in fact for the purpose of estimating the "size
of his pile," with the object of ascertaining to what extent he can be
"bled." This essential information obtained, the quack at once sets his
moral rack to work. Everything will be said not only to confirm the
patient's fears, but to increase them. A pretended examination of urine
will be made, and he will be gravely told that the quack's worst fears
are confirmed, ocular demonstration being offered the dupe. The effect
of this ordeal may be imagined. The unfortunate victim believes that he
has received "confirmation, strong as proof of holy writ," of his
danger