They are adapted
to disease, and disease only, for when taken by one in health they
produce but little effect. This is the perfection of medicine. It is
antagonistic to disease and no more. Tender children may take them with
impunity. If they are sick they will cure them, if they are well they
will do them no harm.

Give them to some patient who has been prostrated with bilious
complaint: see his bent-up, tottering form straighten with strength
again: see his long-lost appetite return: see his clammy features
blossom into health. Give them to some sufferer whose foul blood has
burst out in scrofula till his skin is covered with sores; who stands,
or sits, or lies in anguish. He has been drenched inside and out with
every potion which ingenuity could suggest. Give him these
PILLS, and mark the effect; see the scabs fall from his body;
see the new, fair skin that has grown under them; see the late leper
that is clean. Give them to him whose angry humors have planted
rheumatism in his joints and bones; move him and he screeches with pain;
he too has been soaked through every muscle of his body with liniments
and salves; give him these PILLS to purify his blood; they may
not cure him, for, alas! there are cases which no mortal power can
reach; but mark, he walks with crutches now, and now he walks alone;
they have cured him. Give them to the lean, sour, haggard dyspeptic,
whose gnawing stomach has long ago eaten every smile from his face and
every muscle from his body. See his appetite return, and with it his
health; see the new man. See her that was radiant with health and
loveliness blasted and too early withering away; want of exercise or
mental anguish, or some lurking disease, has deranged the internal
organs of digestion, assimilation or secretion, till they do their
office ill. Her blood is vitiated, her health is gone. Give her these
PILLS to stimulate the vital principle into renewed vigor, to
cast out the obstructions, and infuse a new vitality into the blood. Now
look again--the roses blossom on her cheek, and where lately sorrow sat
joy bursts from every feature. See the sweet infant wasted with worms.
Its wan, sickly features tell you without disguise, and painfully
distinct, that they are eating its life away. Its pinched-up nose and
ears, and restless sleepings, tell the dreadful truth in language which
every mother knows. Give it the PILLS in large doses to sweep
these vile parasites from the body. Now turn