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Professional and University Reform—Medical
women—Honours—The Imperial Academy of Medicine of France—Baronetcy—Domestic
bereavement—The University Principalship—Freedom of the City of
Edinburgh—Bigelow of Boston-—Views on education—Graduation addresses.
PROFESSOR SIMPSON took a warm interest in
medical politics, and made himself heard as a member of the Senatus of the
University. That body was not renowned for any spirit of harmony prevailing
in its midst; it included the medical professors many of whom were in
professional opposition to each other and were actuated by conflicting
interests. The rivalry prevailing amongst the leaders of the profession in
the Scots capital was amusingly shown in one of Sir James's letters, where
he related how Professor Miller had just given a capital address to the
young graduates and recommended them to marry chiefly because Mr. Syme had
advised the reverse two years before. "At least," he said, "so Mr. Syme
whispered to me, and so, indeed, did Miller himself state to Dr. Laycock!"
On the principles of Medical Reform and
University Reform the professors were, however, practically unanimous, but
their interests came into conflict with those of the extra-academical
school. The two opposing bodies worked hard to gain their own ends when a
Parliamentary Committee was appointed in 1852 to inquire into medical
reform. The modern Athens became once more disturbed by wordy warfare. The
general ends aimed at by the reformers were the obtaining of a proper
standing for qualified practitioners 5 some satisfactory means of enabling
the public to distinguish between regular and irregular,, quack,
practitioners; and to define the amount of general and professional
knowledge necessary for degrees and qualifications. It was also desired to
remove the absurd anomaly whereby, although Scots medical education was then
ahead of English, Scots graduates had no legal standing in England. The
Medical Act which was passed in 1858 carried out many of the best
suggestions made before the Committee, and effected desirable improvements
both in the status of practitioners and in medical education; but it was
inadequate, as time has shown, and the question of reform still burns.
Simpson took an active interest in the proceedings before the Committee, and
made several dashes up to London to further the projects which he had at
heart. The annual meeting of the British Medical Association was held in
Edinburgh in July, 1858, at the moment when the fete of the Bill hung in the
balance. As the journal of the Association said at the time the fruit of a
quarter of a century's growth was plucked in the midst of the rejoicings.
Sir Robert Christison publicly stated that owing to Simpson's energetic
efforts certain fer-reaching and objectionable clauses, which had been
allowed to creep into the Bill, were expunged at the last moment. Simpson
went up to London by the night train, employed the following day in
effecting his purpose, and returned the next night ; this was when the
journey took nearly twice as many hours as now.
The Universities (Scotland) Act was also passed
in 1858 ; by it the complete control of the University, and with it the
patronage of many of the Chairs, was lost to its original founders, the Town
Council, who had so carefully and successfully guided it through nearly
three centuries. The Council did not part from their charge without a
struggle-; in urging their cause they proudly pointed to the fact that they
had appointed Simpson to the Chair, of Midwifery against the opposition of
the medical faculty. To have elected him, they thought, under such
circumstances displayed their discernment, vindicated their existence, and
pleaded for the perpetuation of their elective office.
When the question of the admission of women to
the study of medicine came up in Edinburgh and divided the ancient city once
more into two hostile camps, Simpson's sympathies appear to have gone with
the sex to which he was already a benefactor. He recognised that there was a
place, if a small one, within the ranks of the profession for women ; and
when the question came to the vote he cast his in their favour. The
proposal, however, was rejected, and has only quite recently become law in
the University.
Numerous honours were heaped upon him during the
last five-and-twenty years of his life. In 1847 he filled the office of
President of the Edinburgh College of Physicians, and in 1852 held the
corresponding post in the Medico-Chirurgical Society. In the following year
the Imperial Academy of Medicine of France—a body which lacks an analogue in
this country—conferred upon him the title of Foreign Associate. This was a
jealously guarded honour awarded only to the most highly distinguished men
of the day, and it was conferred upon Simpson in an altogether unprecedented
manner which doubled its value. According to custom a commission of members
prepared a list of renowned men whom they advised the Academy to elect; in
the list no British name appeared although Owen, Faraday, and Bright were
entered as "reserves." On the day of election the members accepted all the
candidates named in the original list until the last was reached. When the
president asked for the vote for this individual a sensational and truly
Gallic scene was enacted. Almost to a man the members rose, and loud and
long proclaimed Simpson's name. Excited speeches were made, and amidst great
enthusiasm he was elected to the one remaining vacancy by an overwhelming
majority. It had remained for Simpson to prove, as the President courteously
pointed out at the time, that there existed a greater honour than that of
being elected by the Academy—viz., that of being chosen in spite of the will
of the Academy itself.
This was by no means the only honour awarded to
him by France. In 1856 the French Academy of Sciences voted him the Monthyon
Prize of two thousand francs for " the most important benefits done to
humanity." Other foreign societies added their compliments, and he was
elected Foreign Associate of the Belgian Royal Academy of Medicine, of the
Parisian Surgical and Biological Societies, and of the Medical Societies of
Norway, Stockholm, Copenhagen, New York, Massachusetts, Leipsic, and other
places.
In 1866 his own country made an acknowledgment
of his eminent attainments when the Queen offered him a baronetcy on the
advice of Lord John Russell. Twice before he had refused a title, but this
time he wrote to his brother that he feared he must accept although it
appeared so absurd to take a title. This honour was the first of its kind
ever conferred upon a doctor, or even upon a professor, in Scotland. It was
entirely unsought, and scarcely welcomed by its recipient for its own sake;
he regarded it not merely as a personal honour but also as a tardy
recognition of the services of the Edinburgh school in the cause of
medicine. He enjoyed the congratulations which showered upon him, and felt
glad when the citizens flocked to Queen Street to express their feelings,
much to Lady Simpson's delight. The medical papers unanimously approved of
the honour, the Lancet remarking that apart from his connection with
chloroform, Simpson was distinguished as an obstetric practitioner, as a
physiologist, as an operator, and as a pathologist of great research and
originality.
Domestic bereavement quenched the rejoicings
over the baronetcy, and condolences displaced congratulations. He fell ill
for a time himself, and in a condition of unusual mental depression spoke of
the baronetcy as appearing even more of a bauble in sickness than in health.
In less than a fortnight after the offer of the title his eldest son David
died after a short illness. He had been educated for the medical profession,
and was a youth of considerable promise and of an earnest temperament; his
death fell as a severe blow, and Simpson even contemplated abandoning the
baronetcy which had not yet been formally conferred. The words of his
friends, however, and the thought that his dead son had particularly
insisted on its acceptance, persuaded him.
A coat of arms had to be drafted for the new
Baronet, and this was a pleasant interest for one of his tastes. The family
history was searchingly entered into, and the arms of his father's family
were differenced on the most correct lines with those of the Jervays from
whom his mother had sprung. In the matter of a crest he was able to be
boldly original, and adopted the rod of sculapius over the motto Victo
dolorey and thus handed down to his family the memory of his great victory
over pain. In June of the same year, 1866, the University of Oxford
conferred upon him one of the few honours which reached him from England in
awarding him the honorary degree of Doctor of Civil Law. The University of
Dublin made him an honorary Doctor of Medicine, and he was created an
honorary Fellow of the King's and Queen's College of Physicians of Ireland.
By the death of the veteran Sir David Brewster,
in February, 1868, the office of Principal of Edinburgh University fell
vacant. This post is a survival from the earliest days. The College out of
which the University grew was established in 1583 by the Town Council under
a charter granted by James VI. Only one regent or tutor was necessary at
first to teach the "bairns," as the students were termed in the contract
entered into between Rollock, the first regent, and the city fathers.
Rollock was promised that as the college increased u in policy and learning
he should be advanced to the highest post created. By his own efforts the
number of students increased so greatly that within-the first few years
several other regents were appmftifed, and the Council, remembering their
promise, dignified him with the title of Principal or First Master in 1586.
This office was held during the succeeding two centuries by a series of more
or less worthy men, prominent among whom were Leighton, afterwards
Archbishop of Glasgow, and William Carstares, better known as a statesman
and for his connection with the Rye House Plot in 1684. During Carstares's
tenure the tutors were turned into professors, and the college became more
strictly speak-inga university, although from the first it had assumed
without any right by charter the function of degree-granting. Although the
utility of the post quite vanished when the college became a university, and
the principal had no place in the constitution of a university, nevertheless
the principalship was not abolished. The Universities Act of 1858 recognised
the office, but only as that of an ornamental head, acting as president of
the assembly of professors constituting the Senatus Academicus. The salary
is a thousand pounds a year with an official residence, not within the
precincts or the University. The former head master of the college, known by
and knowing every student, became a sinecurist of whose existence it is no
exaggeration to say many of the students are, through no fault of their own,
unaware. Brewster had been a distinguished occupant of the
post—distinguished not as a principal, for he received the appointment only
at the age of 193 o seventy-eight, but as a scientist. To die public he was
best known as the author of the " Life of Sir Isaac Newton," and as the
inventor of the kaleidoscope. It is said that Brewster never spoke as much
as five lines at the meetings of the Senatus Academicus without having
previously written them down; and it is probable that this lack of
spontaneous utterance from the Chairman gave the tone to the assembly. The
rival professors doubtless nursed their animosities for some less dignified
meeting-place, differing there only on the most correct academic lines.
It is not surprising that Simpson at first
refused to be a candidate for the vacant post. He would undoubtedly have
made an unrivalled figure-head for his Jlma Mater i he was the leading
figure in Scotland already and u did the hospitalities" of Edinburgh to
distinguished visitors of all classes. But he would probably have been
obliged to resign his professorship and have thus been cut off from his
sphere of greatest usefulness; and although he would have grasped with ease
the details of university aflairs it is open to question whether he would
have suitably filled the post of president over men to many of whom he was
in professional opposition. The most that the suggestion that he should be a
candidate conveyed was a well-meant compliment, but it would have been a
greater compliment on his part if he had really ended his life as the
ornamental head of the University he had already done so much to adorn. He
would certainly have turned his position to good account, and perhaps might
have earned the gratitude of all succeeding students by improving their
position in the University and bettering their relationship with their
teachers—a much needed reform at that time. But he was a man for more active
occupation, and it was^ more fitting that he should persevere to the end in
the work of his life. Simpson expressed his opinion that the most suitable
man for the post was the one already named by Brewster and desired by a
majority of the Senatus; but that man, Professor Christison, then over
seventy years of age, generously said that Sir Alexander Grant, an active
candidate, would better fill the post. A strong section of Edinburgh folks
persisted in pushing Simpson, and in deference to their wishes he consented
to enter the lists. It cannot be said that he displayed any of the eager
energy which had marked his candidature for the midwifery chair; but his
friends made up for his comparative apathy. They were met by a strong
opposition, not instigated by his rivals for the post, but offered by
insignificant persons who cherished ill-will against him and spread untrue
statements with the object of damaging his character. Greatly owing to the
reports spread in this manner he was not elected. Sir Alexander Grant became
the new Principal. The fact that he could not gain the post was communicated
to him in a letter which reached him one morning before prayers. He
conducted the worship as usual after reading the letter, and when the family
had afterwards all assembled at the breakfast table he intimated the fact to
them and dismissed the subject from his mind with the quiet remark, "I have
lost the Principalship."
An interesting episode pertaining to this period
was narrated by the Free Church minister of Newhaven. "The election," he
wrote to Dr. Duns, " took place on a Monday, and it was on the Sabbath
preceding, between sermons, that one of my people, a fisherman, called on me
stating that his wife was apparently dying, but that she and all her friends
were longing most intensely for a consultation with Sir James. I did not
know well what to do, for I knew that his mind was likely to be very much
harassed, and I shrank from adding to his troubles. But in the urgency of
the case I wrote him a note simply stating that one of the best women in the
town was at the point of death and longed for his help, leaving the matter
without another word to himself. The result was that he came down
immediately, spent three hours beside his patient, performed, I am told,
miracles of skill, and did not leave her till the crisis was over. She
would, I am assured, have died that evening, but she was one of the
sincerest mourners at his funeral, and she still lives to bless his memory.
After all was over he went into a friend's house and threw himself down on a
sofa in a state of utter exhaustion. This was the way in which, without hope
of fee or reward, 196 and while others were waiting for him able to give him
both, Sir James spent the evening preceding the election. Some will say it
was no great matter after all. Why, for that part of it, neither was the cup
of cold water which the dying Sir Philip Sidney passed from his own lips to
those of a wounded soldier in greater agony than himself. But the incident
is recalled whenever his name is mentioned as adding to the glory of the
knight sans peur et sans reproche, and the incident I have mentioned in the
Newhaven fisherman's house surely gives to Sir James a place beside him in
the glorious order of chivalrous generosity."
Among the last of the honours offered to Simpson
was the Freedom of the City of Edinburgh; a fitting tribute from the City in
which and for which he had so nobly and untiringly laboured. It was proposed
to present him with the burgess-ticket at the same time that it was publicly
presented to another hero in a different sphere, Lord Napier of Magdala; but
by his own desire the ceremony was postponed so far as he was concerned in
order that full honour might be paid to Lord Napier. At the eventual
presentation the Lord Provost made a short speech recapitulating the
achievements for which they desired to honour him, and referring to his
reputation as being great on the banks of the Thames and the Seine, as well
as on the shores of the Firth of Forth; he likewise expressed the pride of
his fellow-citizens that Sir James had remained amongst them and had not
been drawn away like other men of genius before him by the attractions of
the greater metropolis of the south. Simpson's reply took the form of an
impromptu review of his career from the time he first entered the City as a
wonderstruck boy. "I came," he proudly said, "to settle down and fight
amongst you a hard and up-hill battle of life for bread and name and fame,
and the feet that I stand here before you this day so for testifies that in
the arduous struggle I have—won."
The accounts of the speeches delivered on this
occasion which reached America raised the indignation of Dr. Bigelow, of
Boston. Reference had been made to chloroform in a manner which appeared to
slight Morton's work in introducing ether as an anaesthetic before
chloroform was heard of. In Bigelow's estimation Simpson posed as a hero at
the expense of Morton. Simpson had certainly been fer from liberal in his
allusions to Morton and others in his article upon Anaesthesia in
the Encyclopedia Britannica, and had written almost entirely about his own
discovery. A controversy was excited, and on his deathbed Simpson wrote a
letter to Bigelow to prove that he had duly considered the priority and the
value of Morton's and Wells's work. In his concluding sentences he expressed
regret at having taken up so much of his own and his correspondent's time in
such a petty discussion, but blamed his illness which prevented him from
writing with the force and brevity required.
"With many of our profession in America," he
said, "I have the honour of being personally acquainted, and regard their
friendship so very highly that I shall not regret this attempt—my last,
perhaps—at professional writing as altogether useless on my part if it tend
to fix my name and memory duly in their love and esteem."
The widespread national expression of the sense
of loss and of sympathy which reached Edinburgh from the United States after
Sir James's death testified to the regard in which he was held from one end
to the other of that country. In Boston itself the Gynaecological Society,
of which he had been the first honorary member, convened a special memorial
meeting, which was solemn and impressive. He had not been mistaken in
presuming with his last breath that he held the regard of his American
confreres.
On the subject of education Simpson held what
were considered advanced opinions, but which had already been expressed by
Mr. Lowe. A few years before his death he delivered a lecture on Modern and
Ancient Languages at Granton, in which he lamented the common neglect of
modern languages in the education of the day. He had personally felt the
want of a mastery over French and German, both in the course of his studies
and during his travels; nor did he feel the want compensated for by his
ability to write and talk in Latin. He strongly advocated the paying of more
attention to the modern and less to the dead languages, and he urged that
natural science should take its place in the ordinary curriculum of the
great public schools. These views were used as an argument against his
fitness for the post of Principal of the ancient University.
On three separate occasions it fell to Simpson's
lot to deliver the annual address to the newly-fledged graduates, which is
the duty of the professors of the medical faculty in rotation. This ceremony
remains deeply impressed in the memory of Edinburgh men, simple and dull as
it undoubtedly is. The homily delivered by the orator of the day contains
excellent counsels appropriate to the occasion, but the young man eager to
rise and confidently try his wings pays little attention to the words of
wisdom ; unless it be to feel wonder that just as he is about to leave them,
probably for ever, his Alma Mater and her priests have discovered an
affectionate regard for him and his welfare. A few years later the
struggling young practitioner may perhaps turn to the copy of this
graduation address, forwarded to him by post with the author's compliments,
and find in such an one as Simpson delivered much to strengthen and
encourage him. In 1842 and 1855 he delivered addresses from which quotations
have already been made; and in the third one, spoken in 1868, he made a
forecast of the future of medical science, predicting inter alia that by
concentration of electric or other lights we should yet be enabled to make
many parts of the body sufficiently diaphanous for inspection by the
practised eye of the physician. It was his habit to commit such lectures to
memory and to deliver them without notes. He was a ready public speaker on
any subject in which he was interested ; speeches made on the spur of the
moment teemed with pleasantly-put facts and apt anecdotes from the vast
storehouse of his memory. A speech from Sir James was one of the treats in
which Edinburgh folks delighted. |
