FURTHER REFORMS--HONOURS
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; 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 fate 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 far-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 AEsculapius over the motto
_Victo dolore_, 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 "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 appointed, 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 speaking a 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 seventy-eight, but as a scientist. To
the 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 _Alma Mater_; he was the leading figure in
Scotland already and "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 affairs 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,
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 fact that I stand here before you this day so far
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 far from liberal in his
allusions to Morton and others in his article upon Anaesthesia in the
_Encyclopaedia 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.