An incident passed over in histories, although far more inwardly characteristic of the mind of the 18th century than a multitude of the superficialities wherewith their pages are cumbered, is that of Joanna Stephens and her remedies for the stone. Her cures were so remarkable and (on evidence) so indisputable, that a general demand arose for the revelation of her secret for the public benefit. This revelation Mrs. Stephens agreed to make on receipt of £5000 as compensation; and a subscription was started, to which Fellows of the Royal Society, physicians, noblemen, bishops, ladies, and kindly folk of all orders set their names. Such, however, was the unanimity and anxiety to possess the Stephens secret, that it was pronounced a national concern, and Parliament was invoked to supply the requisite funds; whereon an Act was passed “for providing a reward to Joanna Stephens upon a proper discovery to be made by her of the medicines prepared by her for the cure of the stone.” The discovery was duly disclosed to appointed trustees, one of whom was Archbishop of Canterbury, and the £5000 was paid over in 1739; and here we have the heads of the precious revelation-- My medicines are a Powder, a Decoction, and a Pill. The Powder consists of egg-shells and snails, both calcined. The Decoction is made by boiling camomile, fennel, parsley, and burdock leaves (together with a ball, which consists of soap, swine’s cresses burnt to a blackness, and honey) in water. The Pills consist of snails calcined, wild carrot seeds, burdock seeds, ashen keys, hips and hawes, all burnt to a blackness, soap and honey. JOANNA STEPHENS. 16th June, 1739. The public were apparently satisfied with the purchase, but with the usual levity of credulity forgot Mrs. Stephens and her marvellous cures in the pursuit of fresh nostrums. Fashions in medicine are on a par with fashions in dress, and have only occasional reference to the permanence and veracity of nature. The revival of inoculation in England was stimulated by reports from abroad. For instance, in the _Gentleman’s Magazine_ it was stated that in 1737 there were inoculated in Philadelphia-- Men and Women, 32 Children under twelve, 64 Negroes, 32 and that out of the 128 only one Negro died. Again, in the same magazine for 1738 we read-- In Barbados in March last there were upwards of 3000 persons down in the smallpox, where inoculation is practised with great success. Such reports, whilst secure from examination, were none the less effective over the public imagination. There was a report published by Dr. Mead in 1747, which derived great credit from his endorsement, and which continues to be cited to the present day as proof for inoculation, but which is a model of convenient and circumstantial vagueness worthy of Defoe. Thus Mead’s story runs--