Sir Francis Burdett said Vaccination appeared before them with a complexion widely differing from that originally assumed. A short time ago they were assured it was an infallible preventive of Smallpox, and that its practice was so simple that any old woman was equal to it. Now they were told that it was a very nice operation requiring great judgment and skill, the want of which was held to account for the many failures which had occurred. Thus there was neither that simplicity nor security which was originally asserted. Considering these manifest discrepancies between promise and practice, it was, he thought, most unwise for the House to intervene in order to help what appeared to be a failing experiment. They ought to be cautious—they ought not to prop up what might prove to be pernicious error. Government in this free country cannot compel people to submit to the prescriptions of physicians, or the operations of surgeons, or anything except the laws; and it was doubtful whether science itself would be benefitted if placed under Government direction. They were referred to the reports of the Medical Colleges, but as he read these reports he detected much hesitation and evasion, and anything but the assurance displayed on behalf of Vaccination by several members of the House. Many instances of failure were admitted, and such instances might safely be doubled. As for Spurious Cowpox he wished to know what it was. It was used to account for all mishaps, and it was, he suspected, a mere shift, shuffle, and get-off. [Sir Francis need not have spoken thus dubiously, for the Report of the Physicians admitted what he suspected.] He would much prefer a committee of investigation, and hoped the resolution would not be pressed.
Mr. Wilberforce brought up the foreign argument. There might be failures at home, but these could be satisfactorily accounted for. It was for them to consider the magnificent successes of Vaccination in other lands [Omne ignotum pro magnifico est], concerning which there was no room for doubt. He saw no surer method of inspiring the public with confidence in Vaccination than by the establishment of the proposed Institution.
Mr. Rose explained that he merely wished to bring the House to a resolution, leaving it to his Majesty [that was to say, himself for the Government] to give it effect.
Mr. George Canning, Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, declared that though he considered the discovery of Vaccination to be of the greatest importance, yet he could not imagine any circumstances whatever that would induce him to follow up the most favourable report of its infallibility with any measure for its compulsory infliction.
This declaration of Canning is well worth attention and commemoration. It serves to mark the reverence for personal liberty, which was the fine distinction of the former order of English statesmen, and separated, when little else did, the English from the Continental Tory. The noble tradition of this liberty meets with scant favour in these times, and Canning’s avowal in the new House of Commons would be heard as an anachronism. Nearly every adventurer who has a prescription for the moral and physical welfare of his fellow creatures hopes to have it enforced by legislation; and since, under penalty of fine and imprisonment, our babes are cut and poisoned to save them from smallpox, there is no infraction of personal liberty, however outrageous, that can now be pronounced impossible.
When the House divided there were 60 for the motion and 5 against it—again a small House for so critical a matter.
With the permission to spend £3000 a year, the National Vaccine Establishment was constituted, Jenner being consulted in its organisation. A Board was formed, consisting of the President and four Censors of the Royal College of Physicians, and the Master and two senior Wardens of the College of Surgeons. The Board met on 8th December, 1808, and proceeded to business. Jenner, as was his fatality on important occasions, was absent, being detained at Berkeley by family affliction. He wrote to Moore—
I should be unworthy of the name of father were I to stir from my children. Indeed, nothing would make me, not even a royal mandate, unless accompanied by a troop of horse.
Jenner was elected Director, but not a member of the Board, and immediately began to protest that he was disregarded and subjected to indignity. “The Board,” he said, “appointed me Director, but they soon contrived to let me feel that I was to be a Director directed.” The arrangement he had made with Mr. Rose and Sir Lucas Pepys, the President of the College of Physicians, was, he held, altogether different—