In this letter there was material for a smallpox idyl--nothing easier, nothing surer, “smallpox made entirely harmless.” But idyls are deceptive; their paradisiacal effects are obtained by the sedulous exclusion of whatever is otherwise. About the time that Lady Mary was romancing so triumphantly to Miss Sarah Chiswell she despatched this note to her husband-- Sunday, 23rd March, 1717-18. The boy[12] was engrafted last Tuesday, and is at this time singing and playing, and very impatient for his supper. I pray God my next may give as good an account of him.... I cannot engraft the girl; her nurse has not had the smallpox. Why should the engrafting of the infant have been hindered because the nurse had not had smallpox? The answer to the question reveals a peril concealed from Miss Sarah Chiswell. Because the engrafted child would probably have communicated unmitigated smallpox to the nurse. Why not then engraft nurse and child? Because they would have sickened together, and mother Mary did not care to incur the risk. There was no danger, she said; none whatever, only a pleasant diversion; nevertheless she preferred discretion to her own voluble assurance. In History we have always to suspect the picturesque, for mankind have a fatal preference for handsome error over uncomely fact; and Lady Mary Wortley Montagu as mother of English inoculation, and derivatively of vaccination, is ever so much more graceful than dull Timoni and Pylarini in the _Philosophical Transactions_, or Cotton Mather in New England. Few condescend to inquire whether Lady Mary, as primary inoculator, was acting independently, or whether she had advisers and prompters. “All of her self and by her self” is the heroic representation--“a woman’s wit against the world;” and judgment surrenders to fancy, as is the way with myths ancient and modern. But it so happens that what in itself ought to be incredible--that a young Englishwoman should suddenly adopt the strange practice of a strange people--is demonstrably incredible. Lady Mary did not act alone. She had for counsellor and director, Charles Maitland, the physician to the embassy, who, familiar with the fame of inoculation, was glad to observe its practice experimentally. Maitland writes-- In the year 1717, when I had the honour to attend the English Ambassador and his family at Constantinople, I had a fair opportunity fully to inform myself _of what I had long before heard_, namely, the famous practice of transplanting, or raising the smallpox by inoculation.[13] Here we may note, too, that Maitland was aware that inoculation did not originate in Turkey. He says-- Whilst universally practised all over Turkey for three-score years past, it has been known in other parts of the East, a hundred, or, for aught we know, some hundreds of years before.[14] It was Maitland who managed the inoculation of young Montagu, and he thus described the operation--