Jenner did not, even now that he had attained to certainty in his own mind, rush precipitately into publicity, although his benevolent desires to avert the scourge of smallpox from humanity strongly urged him to do so. Still less did he yield to the temptation to establish himself as a practitioner with a specialty for warding off smallpox, which might have led him speedily to fortune. He was as if forearmed against the stringent requirements which would be made as to the proofs of such a discovery if made gratuitously public. At this time he says: “While the vaccine discovery was progressive, the joy I felt at the prospect before me of being the instrument destined to take away from the world one of its greatest calamities, blended with the fond hope of enjoying independence and domestic peace and happiness, was often so excessive that, in pursuing my favourite subject among the meadows, I have sometimes found myself in a kind of reverie. It is pleasant to me to recollect that these reflections always ended in devout acknowledgments to that Being from whom this and all other mercies flow.” Until the spring of 1798 Jenner had no further opportunity of pursuing his inquiries, for the cowpox disappeared from the neighbouring dairies. At last he had matured his research, and it was ready for publication. Before sending it to the printers it was most carefully scrutinised by a number of friends at Rudhall, near Ross, in Herefordshire, the seat of Mr. Thomas Westfaling. Their sympathy encouraged him and their judgment approved of his work, which none who read Jenner’s modest and now classic recital, “An Inquiry into the Causes and Effects of the Variolæ Vaccinæ,” bearing date June 21, 1798, can wonder at. Previous to this date, however, Dr. and Mrs. Jenner had been two months in London, experiencing much mortification from the fact that no one in London could be obtained as a patient to be inoculated with cowpox. Dr. Jenner often stated that his patience had been exhausted on that occasion: and it remained for Henry Cline to perform the first successful vaccination in London. Finding that subsequent inoculation with smallpox failed to give his patient any disease, Cline expressed his opinion that this promised to be one of the greatest improvements ever made in medicine; and he begged Jenner to remove to London, promising him a practice of ten thousand a year. Jenner’s sentiments on this matter are characteristically expressed in the following extract: “Shall I, who even in the morning of my days sought the lowly and sequestered paths of life—the valley, and not the mountain; shall I, now my evening is fast approaching, hold myself up as an object for fortune and for fame? Admitting it as a certainty that I obtain both, what stock should I add to my little fund of happiness? My fortune, with what flows in from my profession, is sufficient to gratify my wishes; indeed, so limited is my ambition and that of my nearest connexions,