Jenner was of an indolent disposition, but the part Pearson was playing stung him to action. His nephew, Rev. G. C. Jenner, wrote to him from London, and thus roused his jealousy—
Norfolk Street, 11th March, 1799.
After what Mr. Paytherus has written to you it will be needless for me to say anything to urge the necessity of your coming to town to wear the laurels you have gained, or to prevent their being placed on the brows of another....
Dr. Pearson is going to send circular letters to medical gentlemen to let them know that he will supply them with Cowpox matter upon their application to him, by which means he will be the chief person known in the business, and consequently deprive you of that merit, or at least a great share of it, which is so justly your due. Dr. Pearson gave a public lecture on the Cowpox on Saturday, and adopted your opinions, except with regard to the probability of the disease originating in Horses’ heels.... All your friends agree that now is your time to establish your fame and fortune; but if you delay taking a personal active part any longer, the opportunity will be lost for ever.—Your affectionate nephew, G. C. Jenner.
Jenner at once communicated the alarming intelligence to his friend Gardner with a sly suggestion for counter-action—
Berkeley, Wednesday.
A letter just received from G. Jenner informs me that Dr. Pearson on Saturday gave a public lecture on the Cowpox, and that it was publicly exhibited at Sir Joseph Banks’s on Sunday evening. He has also given out that he will furnish any gentleman at a distance with the virus.
As this is probably done with the view of showing himself as the first man in the concern, should not some neatly drawn paragraphs appear from time to time in the public prints, by no means reflecting on the conduct of P., but just to keep the idea publicly alive that P. was not the author of the discovery—I mean of Cowpox Inoculation.—Yours truly, E. J.
As human nature exists, it was not extraordinary that Jenner should feel anxious over the occupation of ground he considered his own; but at the same time it is obvious, that Pearson had done nothing wrong, nothing that was not allowable, nothing indeed that was not praiseworthy. He allowed Jenner full credit for having advertised the Gloucestershire faith in cowpox, and for the production of certain evidence for that faith; but he set aside Jenner’s prescription of horsegrease cowpox, and was making use of a form of cowpox that Jenner had explicitly condemned. Whilst Jenner, too, had excited curiosity, he did nothing, or could do nothing, to satisfy it; and it was idle to expect the world to await his convenience: nor was Pearson the man to rest content where action was possible. As he said—