mpous scriptural and
classical quotations, as was the Mather wont. The ingredients of the
prescriptions are vile beyond belief, though, as Mather said in one of
his letters, they are "powerful and parable physicks," which are two
desirable qualities or attributes of any physic. The book gives an
interesting account of Mather's share in that great colonial revolution
in medicine--the introduction of the custom of inoculation for the
small-pox. His friend, Dr. Zabdiel Boylston, of Boston, was the first
physician to inaugurate this great step by inoculating his own son--a
child six years old. Deep was the horror and aversion felt by the
colonial public toward both the practice and practitioners of this
daring innovation, and fiercely and malignantly was it opposed; but its
success soon conquered opposition, and also that fell disease, which six
times within a hundred years had devastated New England, bringing
death, disfigurement, and business misfortunes to the colonists. So
universal was the branding produced by this scourge that scarcely an
advertisement containing any personal description appears in any
colonial print, without containing the words, pock-fretten, pock-marked,
pock-pitted, or pock-broken.

Through the possibility of having the small-pox to order, arose the
necessity of small-pox hospitals, to which whole families or parties
resorted to pass through the ordeal in concert. Small-pox parties were
made the occasion of much friendly intercourse; they were called
classes. Thus in the _Salem Gazette_ of April 22, 1784, after Point
Shirley was set aside as a small-pox retreat, it was advertised that
"Classes will be admitted for Small pox." These classes were real
country outings, having an additional zest of novelty since one could
fully participate in the pleasures, profits, and pains of a small-pox
party but once in a lifetime. Much etiquette and deference was shown
over these "physical gatherings," formal invitations were sometimes sent
to join the function at a private house. Here is an extract from a
letter written July 8, 1775, by Joseph Barrell, a Boston merchant, to
Colonel Wentworth: "Mr. Storer has invited Mrs. Martin to take the
small-pox in her house; if Mrs. Wentworth desires to get rid of her
fears in the same way we will accommodate her in the best way we can.
I've several friends that I've invited, and none of them will be more
welcome than Mrs. Wentworth." These brave classes took their various