☞ Should any one fail to obtain the Pills in his own neighbourhood, if fourteen Postage Stamps for the 1s. 1½d. box, 33 for the 2s. 6d., or 60 for the 4s. 6d. be posted to the Cambrian Pill Depôt, Tre’ Madoc, North Wales, the Pills will be sent per return post, free. N.B.—DIRECTIONS ARE GIVEN WITH EACH BOX OF PILLS. * * * * * British College of Health, New Road, London. CURE OF FISTULA, AND OTHER COMPLAINTS, WITHOUT CUTTING, BY MORISON’S PILLS. To MESSRS. MORISON. January 12th, 1853. GENTLEMEN,—I feel great pleasure in making a public acknowledgment of the good I have received from your valuable medicines. I have been afflicted from childhood with severe attacks of bilious complaint, every five or six weeks; I have suffered dreadfully from spasms, scarce ever free from them little or much: I have suffered from bad legs for these last twenty years. I have dreaded the approach of winter, for they would be then covered with scaly bleeding running sores from the knees to the ankles: I have been afflicted for these last ten years with rheumatism with repeated attacks of lumbago; I have been troubled from a child with great quantities of worms, and for these last five years I have suffered from a fistula, which gradually increasing, caused great pain and lowness of spirits, so I continued up to September 1851; when my afflictions increased—I was seized with severe griping pains in the bowels, for which by taking large doses of medicines and drugs, would relieve me for a few days, then they would return more violent. Worms made their way through the wound of the fistula in abundance. Four months I endured dreadful pains in the chest. I felt as if I were bound round with an iron bar. I felt dreadful pains across the back and shoulders, my neck became stiff, my eyes bloodshot; there appeared a heavy weight on my head, with a hissing noise like a steam engine, my arms seemed filled with streams of boiling water; I had every advice within my reach. I had blisters and mustard plasters to my chest in abundance; I had Doctors and medicines of every description, but all to no use, I gave myself up for lost; the last doctor told me my liver was dreadfully affected, and if I did not take care, I would have the yellow jaundice, and that the wound proceeded from the liver; he did me no good, there was no hope but the hospital, but I dreaded the knife. A friend at last persuaded me to try MORISON’S PILLS, but I was so prejudiced against them, I ridiculed the very idea, but try them I did, glad to catch at any thing, and thank God I did; they made me very bad at first, but I persevered, beginning with five of No. 2, increasing one each night up to nine. I found relief, they stopped the violence of the fistula, they relieved the pains in my chest, and brought