“No trivial gain nor trivial loss despise;Mole-hills, if often heaped, to mountains rise.Weigh every small expense and nothing waste;Farthings long saved amount to pounds at last.”
“No trivial gain nor trivial loss despise;Mole-hills, if often heaped, to mountains rise.Weigh every small expense and nothing waste;Farthings long saved amount to pounds at last.”
“No trivial gain nor trivial loss despise;
Mole-hills, if often heaped, to mountains rise.
Weigh every small expense and nothing waste;
Farthings long saved amount to pounds at last.”
It is easy to see here the imprint of a well-known national characteristic, from which, however, he completely shook himself free when prosperity came to him.
His share of the rent of the Adam Street lodging amounted to only three shillings a week. The entries in the cash-book show how frugally he lived and how every spare sum was devoted to the purchase of books. His library, the foundation of much of his encyclopedic knowledge, was a curious mixture. Adam’s “Antiquities,” Milton’s Poems, Byron’s “Giaour” and “Childe Harold,” a Church Bible, Paley’s “Natural Theology,” Fife’s “Anatomy,” and “The Fortunes of Nigel,” were amongst those entered as purchased. The daily entries were such as the following:—“Subject (anatomical), £2; spoon, 6d.; bread and tart, 1s. 8d. Duncan’s Therapeutics, 9d.; snuff; 1½d.; Early Rising, 9½d.”
He followed out the usual student’s custom of the day of learning dispensing by serving for a time in a chemist’s shop. The late Dr. Keiller, of Edinburgh,31used to relate how, while he himself was so employed in a chemist’s shop in Dundas Street, one day “a little fellow with a big head” was brought in and entered as a pupil by a relative. The little fellow was Simpson, and no sooner was he left in the shop than he sat down with a book upon drugs, and turning to the shelves took down drug after drug to read up. The prompt industry of the big-headed fellow deeply impressed Keiller.
James attended most of the University classes, but studied surgery under the great Robert Liston, the foremost extra-mural surgeon, daring and skilful as an operator and of great repute as a lecturer, who afterwards filled the post of Professor of Clinical Surgery in University College Hospital, London. Liston was an abrupt-mannered but sincere man, and a keen lover of truth. He was a warm advocate of hospital reform, and was successful in introducing several needed improvements into the Royal Infirmary after a fierce fight. Here again Simpson was brought under the influence of a strong, self-reliant man with a distinct tendency towards controversy; to whom he was also attracted by the fact that Liston was a native of Linlithgowshire. Liston and Syme, after being close colleagues, quarrelled most fiercely, and were bitter rivals until Liston removed to London in 1835. Simpson attended Liston’s lectures during three sessions.
There is no record of his having obtained great distinction in any of the medical classes, but his32certificates show that he worked with pre-eminent diligence in them all, and obtained a characteristic mastery of each subject. If any exception occurred it was in the very subject in which he afterwards earned his greatest scientific fame—that of obstetrics. He attended Professor James Hamilton’s course of lectures on that subject early in his career, and apparently felt so little interest—the subject only became a compulsory one for examination for qualification in 1830—that he regularly went to sleep during the lecture. The excuse urged was that the lecture being a late one, three to four in the afternoon, it found him tired out after a long morning of study, lectures, and practical work. But had he been keenly interested he would have been wide awake, for Hamilton was a forcible, if plain, lecturer.
Hamilton was another of Simpson’s teachers who exhibited the same uncompromising fighting characteristics—eager and strenuous in his efforts to obtain some object—which Simpson himself afterwards displayed. He fought hard for fifteen years to gain recognition for the subject which he taught, and to have it included in those necessary for qualification. He succeeded in the end, but in the course of the struggle had to bring two actions at law against professional brethren. In one the defendant was Dr. Gregory, whose teaching was mainly responsible for the British system of medical practice in the early part of this century, viz., free purging, free bleeding,33and frequent blistering, and who was the inventor of that well known household remedy, Gregory’s powder. Gregory was also a pugnacious man and could not abide the pretensions of the representative of the despised art of midwifery; he administered a public caning to him, and had to pay £100 in damages which, it is said, he offered to pay over again for another opportunity of thrashing the little obstetrician. This encounter occurred before Simpson became a student, but the memory of it was frequently revived in the subsequent disputes which Hamilton carried on.
The notes which Simpson took of the curriculum lectures were concisely made and full of comments, criticisms, and queries. He by no means bowed down to authority; he allowed nothing to pass which he did not understand at the time, and specially noted points which it seemed to him his teachers themselves did not understand.
Like most young men of his abilities and temperament, Simpson took pleasure in rhyming, and some of his verses are preserved. They indicate something of the rollicking spirit of the medical student’s life seventy years ago. The medical student at that date has been described in a recent interesting sketch of Edinburgh student life as wearing a white great-coat and talking loud; his hat was inclined knowingly to one side of his head, and the bright hues of an Oriental handkerchief decorated his neck. There was a great deal of acting in34his motions. He was first at the door of the theatre on a Saturday night, and regardless of the damages sustained by the skirts of his coat, secured the very middle seat of the fifth row of benches in the pit. Simpson, however, hardly conformed to this description. He enjoyed recreation as much as any man, and had a keen sense of humour which made him popular among his fellow students, but he was saturated with the love of study and was not led into extravagances of the Bob Sawyer type, or the harmless inanities of Albert Smith’s immortal Medical Student.
During the long summer vacation he noted carefully his observations on the botany, zoology, geology, and even the meteorology of the Bathgate district. Dr. Duns, in his memoir, points out that he was much more at home with the phenomena of organic than with those of inorganic forms. His highest powers came into play when he had to do with the presence of life and its varied manifestations. Even his antiquarian notes illustrated this. He passed at once from the things to the thoughts and feelings of the men associated with them.
In the holidays he also assisted the village doctor in visiting and dispensing, and lent a willing hand in his father’s shop when he was wanted, often enough driving the baker’s cart on the daily round of bread delivery.
In January of the year 1830 his father was taken seriously ill, and James hastily left Edinburgh and35tended him till his death. On his return he presented himself for the final examination at the College of Surgeons. This he passed with ease and credit in April, and found himself a fully qualified medical practitioner at the age of eighteen.
36CHAPTER IIIFurther Studies. 1830-1835
Applies for a village appointment—Disappointment—Brother’s help to further studies—Dispensary assistant—Obtains University M.D., 1832—Thesis—Assistant to the Professor of Pathology—Turns to obstetrics—Attends Professor Hamilton’s lectures again—Royal Medical and Royal Physical Societies—Edward Forbes—The Oineromathic Society—Foreign tour—Visits Liverpool and meets Miss Jessie Grindlay—His characteristics, principles, and methods, with extracts from addresses.
Applies for a village appointment—Disappointment—Brother’s help to further studies—Dispensary assistant—Obtains University M.D., 1832—Thesis—Assistant to the Professor of Pathology—Turns to obstetrics—Attends Professor Hamilton’s lectures again—Royal Medical and Royal Physical Societies—Edward Forbes—The Oineromathic Society—Foreign tour—Visits Liverpool and meets Miss Jessie Grindlay—His characteristics, principles, and methods, with extracts from addresses.
There now came the first crisis in Simpson’s medical career. After his father’s death he felt that having obtained his qualification to practise it was his duty to relieve his family of the burden of supporting him through more extended studies. After due deliberation he applied for a small appointment which would have served as a nucleus for private practice, that of parish surgeon to a small village on the banks of the Clyde. Those in whose hands the appointment lay were not impressed with his fitness for the post, and he was not elected, “I felt,” he afterwards said, “a deeper amount of chagrin and disappointment37than I have ever experienced since that date. If chosen, I would probably have been working there as a village doctor still.” Although such a commencement might have delayed his ultimate rise to eminence, it cannot be agreed that it could possibly have prevented it. It was at this crisis that what he tenderly referred to as “the ceaseless love and kindness of a dear elder brother” came to his rescue, and by Alexander’s or, as he affectionately called him, “Sandy’s” help, he returned to Edinburgh to resume his studies in the winter session, 1830-31. His other brother, David, had started in business as a baker at Stockbridge, close to Edinburgh, and James boarded with him there for a time. His qualification enabled him to become assistant to a Dr. Gairdner in dispensary practice, a class of work he had had some experience of in the previous year while staying with Dr. Girdwood at Falkirk during the summer. Dr. Gairdner was much struck with Simpson’s abilities, which he stated, “promised the most flattering expectations.” In the course of his first experiences of actual practice he became impressed with the necessity for a knowledge of obstetrics, and therefore attended lectures on the subject by Dr. Thatcher, an extra-mural teacher of repute, who subsequently applied for the University chair of midwifery when Simpson was the successful candidate.
His chief object, however, was to qualify for the degree of Doctor of Medicine of the University, and38this he succeeded in doing in 1832. The regulations for this coveted degree were, for the times, wonderfully complete; it was held in such high estimation and such large numbers qualified annually—in 1827 there were one hundred and sixty graduates—that the authorities felt justified in being stringent. The length of the course of study necessary for graduation had been fixed at four years, and required the candidate to have attended classes in Anatomy, Surgery, Materia Medica, and Pharmacy, the Theory and Practice of Medicine, Clinical Medicine, Midwifery, Chemistry, and Botany, as well as a three months’ course in any two of the following:—Practical Anatomy, Natural History, Medical Jurisprudence, Clinical Surgery, and Military Surgery. The first step in examination took place at the house of one of the professors where the candidate was questioned in literary subjects, chiefly Latin, and in the different branches of Medicine and Surgery. If he passed this satisfactorily he was examined more minutely by two professors in the presence of the others, and was subsequently given two Aphorisms of Hippocrates to explain and illustrate in writing and to defend before the faculty, as well as two cases with questions attached. The last step was the presenting of a thesis which was read by one of the faculty and was publicly defended by the candidate on the day of graduation. All this examination was conducted in Latin. Simpson’s thesis was entitled: “De causa39mortis in quibusdam inflammationibus proxima.” He was amongst the last graduates who were examined through the medium of Latin, for after 1833 the language was optional, and English soon became the only one used; at the same time the examinations were differently arranged, and made to consist of more thorough and prolonged written and oral stages. Being on a pathological subject, Simpson’s thesis was allotted to Thomson, the professor of Pathology, to examine, who not only recommended the author for the degree, but was so impressed by the ability displayed in the dissertation that he sought him out and promptly offered him the post of assistant, which Simpson as promptly accepted. This appointment was most welcome. Not only did it give him a much desired opportunity for pathological work, but the salary of £50 a year enabled him to free his family from the immediate necessity of supporting him.
If to MacArthur and John Reid was due the credit of first directing Simpson’s thoughts to the study of medicine, to Professor John Thomson belongs the credit of having made him an obstetrician. “At Dr. Thomson’s earnest suggestion and advice,” says Simpson, “I first turned more especially to the study of midwifery with the view of becoming a teacher of this department of medical science.” He lost no time in throwing himself heartily into the work that was nearest to him, and became almost indispensable to his chief. Most of his time was spent in the40Pathological Museum, busily engaged in arranging, classifying, and describing the preparations, but he also assisted in preparing the professor’s lectures. He took up more readily than Thomson the then new mode of study by the microscope, and it is related that once he composed a lecture for his chief on this subject which Thomson delivered without previous perusal. Several times as Thompson read the lecture to the class he looked up to glare at his assistant, and when they returned to the side room he shook his fist in his face, saying, “I don’t believe one d—d word of it.”
Although Simpson was now earning enough by his salary as assistant to meet his expenses at the time, his family maintained their loving interest in his welfare. His sister told him he was working too hard and hurting his health. “Well,” he replied, “I am sure it is just to please you all.”
Sandy, who had married in 1832, watched his career carefully, and when the cholera made its appearance in Scotland he made a will with a provision for “my dear James” in the event of his death. “I daresay,” he addressed his family therein, “every one of you has a pleasure in doing him good by stealth as I have had myself.”
By Thomson’s advice Simpson attended Hamilton’s lectures in the winter session 1833-4, and this time with awakened interest. With the definite object of devoting himself to Midwifery clearly in view Simpson worked with all his phenomenal energy41during the years from 1832 to 1835, studying the subject while he was helping Thomson. He entered the front rank of the young graduates of his day, and was elected a member of the Royal Medical and Royal Physical Societies in the same year, 1833. Both these societies were for the encouragement of scientific study and discussion among students and young graduates, and to obtain the Presidential chair of either was a high honour. The Royal Medical Society was the oldest Society in the University, having been established in 1737 by the great Cullen and others; it had always been of great account in the University, and the originality of the utterances on professional matters which emanated from it made it then a power to be reckoned with not only in Edinburgh, but throughout European professional circles. For membership of the Royal Physical Society he was proposed by Edward Forbes, a brilliant youth, who subsequently distinguished himself in Natural History, and held the University Chair in that subject for a brief period until cut down prematurely at the age of thirty-nine. Forbes was the leader of a set of able young students who have left a distinct mark in the history of the University. John Reid was an intimate friend of Forbes, and Simpson was probably as intimate with him. Forbes was the founder and editor of the best of all the shortlived literary ventures of Edinburgh undergraduates—The University Maga, which was issued weekly in 1834; and he was also one of the42founders of the Oineromathic Society, “The brotherhood of the friends of Truth.” Forbes thus described the nature of this Society in song:—
“Some love to stray through lands far away,Some love to roam on the sea,But an antique cell and a college bell,And a student’s life for me.For palace or cot, for mead or grotI never would care or pine,But spend my days in twining laysTo Learning, Love, and Wine.”
“Some love to stray through lands far away,Some love to roam on the sea,But an antique cell and a college bell,And a student’s life for me.For palace or cot, for mead or grotI never would care or pine,But spend my days in twining laysTo Learning, Love, and Wine.”
“Some love to stray through lands far away,
Some love to roam on the sea,
But an antique cell and a college bell,
And a student’s life for me.
For palace or cot, for mead or grot
I never would care or pine,
But spend my days in twining lays
To Learning, Love, and Wine.”
“Wine, Love, and Learning” was the motto of this curious brotherhood, and it numbered in its membership many men of the day, who afterwards became eminent, such as Forbes himself, Reid, George Wilson, Goodsir, and Bennet. Simpson must have been quite cognisant of this Society’s doings; he was closely associated with its leaders, but his name does not appear in any of the lists of members still preserved. His whole-hearted devotion to theΜΑΘΗΣΙΣprobably prevented his uniting with the brotherhood to worship theΕΡΩΣandΟΙΝΟΣ. The brotherhood was conspicuously united. In the great snowball riot of 1837, which was quelled only by the reading of the Riot Act and the marching down at the double from the Castle of the Cameron Highlanders into the University gates, they fought shoulder to shoulder.
In 1835 Simpson felt that the time had come to enter into serious practice and turn his acquired knowledge to account. Fifty pounds a year was no large43income on which to satisfy his craving for learning, and there was no surplus from which by any means to repay his family for their assistance. Before taking any decided step, however, he desired to pay a visit to the Continental centres of medical science and teaching. The funds for the proposed tour were promptly found by his brothers Alexander and John; by their assistance he was enabled to visit Paris, Liége, and Brussels, as well as London and Oxford. He was accompanied by Dr. (now Sir Douglas) Maclagan, and kept a journal of the tour, which is an interesting example of his lively powers of observation. In London he visited the leading hospitals, and made the acquaintance of the leading physicians and surgeons, amongst whom were manyalumniof his ownalma mater. In the journal he freely and concisely criticised the men, their methods, and their hospitals. In Paris he followed the same plan, going the round of all the hospitals, and searching for and grasping the principle which guided each distinguished man’s thought and teaching. He took more than a medical interest in all that he saw, and noted the appearance and habits of the people of each place that he visited. At the end of his coach ride from London to Southampton, on the way to Paris, he sat down to write:—“The ride as far as Windsor Park was delightful, and from the top of the coach we had two or three most lovely glimpses of English scenery. After passing Windsor the soil was rather inferior in many parts,44and we passed every now and then large tracts of heath.... The neatness and cleanliness of the English cottages is greatly superior to all that we have in Scotland; the little patches of garden ground before, behind, and around them set them off amazingly. I wish the Scottish peasantry could by some means or other be excited to a little more love of cleanliness and horticulture. I did not see above two or three dirty windows, men or women along the whole line of road. The snow-white smock-frocks of the Hampshire peasantry do actually look well in my opinion.”
At Liége on June 13th he wrote:—“And is it possible that I here begin a second volume of a journal?... I began my journal chiefly with some distant prospect of teaching myself the important lesson of daily notation. I am vain enough to flatter myself now that I have partly at least succeeded. At all events that which was at first a sort of task, at times rather an annoying task, has now become to me a pleasure. If I had my first volume to write over again I think I would now write it twenty times better. In writing a journal ’tis needless to think of making no blunders in the way of blots and bad grammar or of crooked sentences. We, or at least I, have occasionally felt so confoundedly tired at night that if I had been obliged to attend to such minutiæ I certainly would not have been able to advance above two sentences.
45
“This morning rose by half-past seven—dressed and breakfasted on coffee and rolls, read theLiége Courier, and by nine o’clock called on Professor Fohman with a copy of Dr. Reid’s paper on the glands of the whale, which I had promised him yesterday. The Professor kept us until five minutes to ten, lecturing us on his discoveries upon the original elementary tubular structure of animal tissues. Somebody has remarked that no person ever entered into or at least came out of the study of the Book of Revelation without being either mad before or mad after it. I would not choose to say that Dr. F.’s case is perfectly analogous, but has it not some analogy? He seems to run wild on elementary tubular texture; ... he hates Lippi and his researches with a perfect hatred. Lippi has been preferred to him by the Parisian Academy. Is he not working against Lippi, and it may be against truth, if they happen to go together, which I do not believe?
“We have taken our seats in the diligence to-morrow for Louvain, and on leaving Liége I must confess that I leave one of the most lovely places I have seen on the Continent. ’Tis rich, populous, busy; the town in itself is old and good, though not so neat and clean as Mons; its environs wild and romantic. Besides it seems full of good-naturedgashold wives, and sonsy, laughing-faced, good-looking, nay, some of them very good-looking girls.”
The homeward journey was madeviâBirmingham,46Liverpool, and Glasgow. In Liverpool he called upon a distant relative named Grindlay, established there as a shipper, and laid the foundation of a life-long friendship with the family. He also then for the first time met Miss Jessie Grindlay who afterwards became his wife.
With the end of this tour, Simpson brought to a close the more strictly student part of his career, although it remained true of him, as of all eminent scientific men, that he was a student to the end of his days. He felt himself now fully equipped to enter into the professional battle, and he stepped into the arena, not only full of vigorous life and hope, but possessed of highly trained faculties, keen senses, and lofty ideals. It was his strong, personal characteristics, apart from his accomplishments, which at once placed him head and shoulders above his fellows. “He had a great heart,” says a recent writer, “and a marvellous personal influence, calling forth, not only the sympathy and love of his fellowmen, but capable of kindling enthusiasm in others almost at first sight.” It is impossible to overestimate this personal influence in analysing the elements of his ultimate success, and it is more impossible for those who did not feel it to realise its nature; but that he became the beloved as well as the trusted physician is due to this influence. “He had no acquaintances,” says the writer already quoted; “none could come into contact with him and stop short of friendship.” This was a powerful trait to47possess; it cannot be denied that he was fully aware of it and its value; and used it with good effect in establishing himself as the greatest physician of his day.
As a scientist he started with an eager desire for knowledge and reverence for truth, to which was added the highly developed power of mental concentration born of early self-training. When most men would be waiting in what they would term enforced idleness, Simpson would be busy with book or pen, deeply attentive to his occupation despite surrounding distractions or temptations to frivolous idleness. He took the full measure of the value of Time and handled his moments as another would a precious metal. “At all times,” he said himself, “on all occasions, and amidst the numerous disturbing influences to which the medical man is so constantly subjected, he should be able to control and command his undivided mental attention to the case or object that he may have before him.... In the power of concentrating and keeping concentrated all the energies of attention and thought upon any given subject, consists the power of thinking strongly and successfully upon that subject. The possession or the want of this quality of the mind constitutes the main distinction between the possession or the want of what the world designates ‘mental abilities and talents.’”
His high ideals, his conception of the functions of the physician, and the strivings of the scientist are48best shown in his own words:—“Other pursuits become insignificant in their objects when placed in contrast with ours. The agriculturist bestows all his professional care and study on the rearing of crops and cattle; the merchant spends his energies and attention on his goods and his commissions; the engineer upon his iron-wheels and rails; the sailor upon his ships and freights; the banker upon his bills and his bonds; and the manufacturer upon his spindles and their products. But what after all are machinery and merchandise, shares and stocks, consols and prices-current, or the rates of cargoes and cattle, of corns and cottons, in comparison with the inestimable value and importance of the very lives of these fellowmen who everywhere move and breath and speak and act around us? What are any, or what are all these objects when contrasted with the most precious and valued gift of God—human life? And what would not the greatest and most successful followers of such varied callings give out of their own professional stores for the restoration of health and for the prolongation of life—if the first were once lost to them, or if the other were merely menaced by the dreaded and blighting finger of disease?”
In one of his addresses of later years he urged upon his students the objects and motives which had been his in early professional life:—“The objects and powers of your art are alike great and elevated,” he said. “Your aim is as far as possible to alleviate49human suffering and lengthen out human existence. Your ambition is to gladden as well as to prolong the course of human life by warding off disease as the greatest of mortal evils; and restoring health, and even at times reason itself, as the greatest of mortal blessings.... If you follow these, the noble objects of your profession, in a proper spirit of love and kindness to your race, the pure light of benevolence will shed around the path of your toils and labours the brightness and beauty that will ever cheer you onwards and keep your steps from being weary in well-doing; ... while if you practise the art that you profess with a cold-hearted view to its results, merely as a matter of lucre and trade, your course will be as dark and miserable as that low and grovelling love that dictates it.”
Simpson’s method of study was simple, at the same time that it involved immense labour. In entering upon a new work his first proceeding was to ascertain conscientiously all that had already been said or written by others upon the subject. He traced knowledge from its earliest sources and was able, as he followed the mental workings of those who had preceded him, to estimate the value of every vaunted addition to the sum of knowledge; and to weigh the theories and new opinions of men which had been evolved with the progress of time, and which had sometimes obscured, instead of casting greater light upon the truth. His antiquarian tastes added to his50knowledge of Latin helped him in this work and turned a tedious task into a real pleasure. This preliminary accomplished, he plunged into the work of adding to the knowledge of the subject by thought, research, experiment, or invention.
In writing upon an abstract subject he would disentangle the confused thoughts of his predecessors and restate their opinions in direct and simplified language. But matters of opinion never had such an attraction for him as matters of fact; in dealing with these latter he would test by experiment the statements of authorities and correct or add to them by his own researches. Most of his professional writings, as well as his archæological works, are valuable for the historicalrésuméof the knowledge on the subject as well as for his additions. His later writings show as careful an attention to the inductive method with which he started, as those produced in the days of his more youthful enthusiasm; when fame was attained and fortune secured, when excessive work was sapping his physical strength, he never sank into lazy or slovenly methods in scientific work, but ever threw his whole vigour into the self-imposed task.
When studying Nature directly he was constantly asking her “why?”—just as in his notes of his teacher’s lectures the query was ever recurring. He never felt himself beaten by an initial failure, but returned again and again with his questions with renewed energy each time. He was not to be denied,51and in this manner he wrested from Nature some of those precious secrets the knowledge of which has relieved suffering and prolonged human life in every corner of the globe. “He never kept anything secret,” says his nephew and successor, Professor A. R. Simpson, “that he thought could help his fellows, and it is hard to say whether his delight was greater in finding some new means to cure disease, or in demonstrating to others his methods of treatment.”
He was indeed clothed in well-nigh impenetrable armour, and provided with powerful weapons, when in the autumn of 1835 he returned from his foreign tour to commence the serious fight in which his avowed object was not only to obtain professional eminence, but to stand forth a proud benefactor of the human race. Although he appealed always directly to Nature and used his own well-trained eyes and ears in preference to those of others, he did not completely brush aside authority as Sydenham had done; he hesitated neither to extract all that was valuable, nor to discard what appeared worthless from the writings of past masters.
52CHAPTER IVEarly Practice and Professorship.1835-1840
President of Royal Medical Society—Personal appearance—Practice among the poor—Corresponds with Miss Grindlay—Lecturer on obstetrics—Resignation of Professor Hamilton—Applies for vacancy—Active candidature—Strong opposition—Marriage—Account of the midwifery Chair—The medical professors at the time—Their opposition—Cost of candidature—Triumphant election.
President of Royal Medical Society—Personal appearance—Practice among the poor—Corresponds with Miss Grindlay—Lecturer on obstetrics—Resignation of Professor Hamilton—Applies for vacancy—Active candidature—Strong opposition—Marriage—Account of the midwifery Chair—The medical professors at the time—Their opposition—Cost of candidature—Triumphant election.
In November, 1835, Simpson was elected one of the annual Presidents of the Royal Medical Society; a position which has been occupied by many young Edinburgh graduates, who have subsequently risen to fame. He took pains to make his inaugural address worthy of the occasion, and chose a subject connected with the pathology of obstetrics. It was a great success, and contributed largely towards giving him a recognised position as an authority in that branch of study. After appearing in theEdinburgh Medical and Surgical Journalfor January, 1836, it was translated into French, Italian, and German. It also obtained for him his first foreign honour—one of a long list that53was made up through his lifetime—that of corresponding member of the Ghent Medical Society; indeed, his early works received more attention and appreciation abroad than at home. In 1836, in order to widen his experience in his chosen subject, he filled the post of house-surgeon to the Lying-in Hospital, and held it for twelve months. He was also elected a Fellow of the Edinburgh College of Physicians. From this time he became a profuse writer on professional subjects, and developed an easy and convincing style; he carried on this workpari passuwith practice amongst the poorer classes of the city and in addition to his work in connection with the Pathology Chair, always keeping in view his great object of becoming an obstetrician. It was not until 1838 that he became an independent lecturer on Midwifery. He had intended to do so earlier, but owing to Professor Thomson’s ill-health, he had been called upon to act as Deputy-Professor of Pathology, a most valuable and useful employment.
Simpson’s personal appearance at this time has been described by one who visited a meeting of the Royal Medical Society on an evening when he was in the chair:—“The chair was occupied,” says the narrator, “by a young man whose appearance was striking and peculiar. As we entered the room his head was bent down, and little was seen but a mass of long tangled hair, partially concealing what appeared to be a head of very large size. He raised his head, and his countenance54at once impressed us. A pale, rather flattish face, massive brent brows, from under which shone eyes now piercing as it were to your inmost soul, now melting into almost feminine tenderness; a coarsish nose with dilated nostrils, finely chiselled mouth which seemed the most expressive feature of the face ... Then his peculiar rounded soft body and limbs, as if he had retained the infantine form in adolescence, presented atout ensemble, which even if we had never seen it again would have remained indelibly impressed on our memory.”
In Simpson’s youth physicians and surgeons made a habit of cultivating peculiarities of appearances and behaviour, but he was so shaped by nature as to attract attention without artificial aid. The growth of long hair seemed a natural accompaniment to his massive head and broad expressive countenance.
His practice at this time was scattered over the city, and he took long tramps in the course of the day. In one of his letters to his brothers, who were still loyally supporting him in his increasingly successful endeavours to establish himself after his heart’s desire, he says:—“The patients are mostly poor it is true, but still they are patients; ... if my health is spared me, I do hope I may get into practice sufficient to keep me respectable after the lapse of years; but I know years must pass before that. At present I enjoy the best possible spirits and health, and with all my toils was never happier or healthier.”
55
Tout vient à point à qui sait attendre.Simpson knew how to wait; he knew that waiting did not mean inactivity. Every opportunity that arose for advancement found him prepared to take full advantage of it.
That his lectures on pathology were acceptable was made manifest by the address presented to him by the students of the class at the end of his temporary term of office, testifying to his zeal, fidelity, and success, their admiration of his high talents, of the varied and extensive research which he displayed, and of his uniform and kind affability which, while it exalted him in the eyes of all as a teacher, endeared him to each as a friend.
During this period he kept up a correspondence with the Miss Grindlay, of Liverpool, whose appearance he had been struck with when he visited the family, and towards the end of 1837 he found time to visit there again accompanied by Dr. John Reid.
The way for his appearance as an extra-academical lecturer on midwifery was made clear at the end of 1837 by the death of Dr. Macintosh, a successful teacher of that subject. He had been in negotiation, without success, with this Dr. Macintosh for the taking over of the part or whole of his lectures, and found it easy to step at once into his place at his death. He was firmly determined to succeed ultimately to the University Chair of Midwifery. On one occasion56he pointed out to some friends the then holder of the Chair, Professor Hamilton, thus:—“Do you see that old gentleman? Well, that’s my gown!”
The good luck which had been his during his boyhood did not desert him when he began his course of lectures; for not only did he speedily attain a reputation for teaching, science, and practical skill, wonderful for one so young, but he had not two years to wait after thus establishing himself before the chair of his ambition fell vacant owing to the resignation in 1839 of Professor Hamilton, who died soon afterwards at the age of seventy-two.
It was a bold step for so young a man—for Simpson was only twenty-eight—to apply for the professorship. He was, however, not without his precedent. The second Monro obtained the Anatomy Chair at twenty-five, Alison filled that of Physic at thirty, and Thomas Hope and Alexander Christison were Professors of Chemistry and Medical Jurisprudence respectively each at the age of twenty-four. But this subject was one which was popularly thought to require a man of experience and especially a married man. Simpson had devoted his energies but partially to midwifery for only four or five years, and except for his short hospital appointment and recent experience as a lecturer on the subject had in the eyes of many no greater claim to the post than any other general practitioner, except in the fact that he had obtained a wide reputation in the science of the subject by his57contribution to its literature and his researches. This last was the point on which he himself most relied; for his age he had done more scientifically than any of his opponents. Those who had watched his career knew that he possessed in addition to zeal and ability, brilliant teaching and practical powers. The objection of his youth was less easily got over than that of his unmarried state. With characteristic promptness, as soon as he had determined to apply for the Chair and found that as a bachelor his chances would be small, he disappeared for a time from Edinburgh, and returned triumphantly with Miss Jessie Grindlay, of Liverpool, as his wife. It was a bold stroke which delighted his supporters, discomfited his opponents, who saw therein the removal of a barrier to his success and a weapon from their hands, and astonished the worthy town councillors in whose gift the appointment lay.
The Edinburgh Chair of Midwifery was established in 1726, and was indisputably the first Chair of its kind in the British Islands, and probably in the world. It was in that year that the Town Council first established the medical faculty, by appointing two Professors of the Theory and Practice of Medicine and two of Medicine and Chemistry. A Chair of Anatomy had been instituted six years earlier through the instrumentality of the first Monro who became its first occupant. These five chairs were considered sufficient wherewith to teach all the medical knowledge58of the day, and although appointedad vitam aut culpamthe professors received no remuneration out of the city revenues. The Chair was not reckoned at first as a faculty Chair, but was termed a city professorship. The newly created medical faculty would have no midwifery within the precincts of the University; and this is scarcely surprising when we remember that at first the only persons lectured to by the city professor were women of an inferior class in whose hands the practice of the art almost entirely lay.
Along with this appointment the Town Council established a system of regulation for midwifery practice within the city. It ordered that all midwives already in practice should at once be registered, and that no persons should thereafter enter on the practice within the city until they had presented to the magistrate a certificate under the hands of at least one doctor and one surgeon who were at the same time members of the College of Physicians or of the Incorporation of Chirurgeons, bearing that they had so much of the knowledge and principles of this art as warranted their entering on the practice of it; whereupon a licence should be given them signed by four magistrates at least entitling them to practise. It was further enacted that certain pains and penalties were to be inflicted upon ignorant persons for practising without this licence whereby their “want of skill might be of such dangerous consequences to the lives59of so many people.” It is to be presumed that as qualified medical men granted them these certificates and that these women had extensive practices, they possessed also a fair amount of skill. But slowly and gradually they had to give way and retire to the rank of nurses before the rise and growing public tolerance of the qualified male practitioner of obstetrics.
The second occupant of the chair, appointed in 1739, was elevated to a place in the medical faculty, but Professor Thomas Young, who occupied it in 1756, was the first to teach the subject to medical students by means of lectures and clinical instruction. As already noted, it was left for James Hamilton to obtain the recognition of midwifery as a subject, a knowledge of which was necessary for the obtaining of the University medical degree.
At the time when Simpson was straining every nerve to gain the post he coveted, the medical faculty of the University comprised the following professors of the following subjects:—Botany, Robert Graham, who established the Edinburgh and Glasgow Botanical Gardens; Anatomy, Monro the third; Chemistry, Hope, who discovered strontium in the lead mines of Argyleshire; Institutes of Medicine, Alison, an eminent physician and philanthropist who first pointed out the connection between destitution and epidemics of disease, and secured improved Poor Laws for his country; Practice of Physic, James Home; Materia Medica, Christison, the world-reputed toxicologist;60Natural History, Robert Jameson; Clinical Surgery, James Syme, the wonderful operator and teacher, and inventor of the “macintosh” waterproof; Military Surgery, Ballingall; Medical Jurisprudence, Traill; Pathology, Thomson; and Surgery, Charles Bell, the discoverer of the double function of the nerves, who was ranked in his day on the Continent as greater than Harvey. It was thus not an undistinguished body that Simpson strove to enter; several of the best-known members were comparatively young men, recently appointed to their posts, and full of the rising scientific spirit. It is little to their credit that they were practically unanimous in opposing the candidature of this young and enthusiastic scientist, who afterwards shed such lustre on the University from the chair which they would have denied him for no reasons other than his youth and his humble origin.
Fortunately for Simpson and for the University, the appointment did not lie in the gift of the professors, but was entirely in the hands of the Town Council, comprising thirty-three citizens.
Such an election was always a matter of keen interest to the inhabitants of Edinburgh, and each candidate brought all the direct and indirect influence within his power to bear on every councillor whom he could reach. The Professors in the various faculties had no doubt great influence; they openly canvassed for the candidate they favoured, and did not hesitate to decry those they did not approve of. Shortsighted61as this professorial opposition was, it proved no small difficulty in Simpson’s way. Foremost amongst his opponents was Syme, who commenced a long feud with him by supporting his chief rival, Dr. Kennedy; “I feel no hesitation in stating,” he wrote purposely for publication, “that of all the candidates in the field, he (Kennedy) is out of all question, according to my judgment, the one that ought to be elected.” Sir Charles Bell was equally emphatic, and characterised Simpson’s testimonials, in a note which Kennedy circulated, as given by “good-natured people merely to do a civil thing to a friend”—which was his mode of describing the declarations of some of the most eminent men of the day.
Each candidate also brought political influence to bear, and Whig and Tory grew agitated as the contest became keener. Simpson seems to have thought that both political parties were in opposition to him, but he certainly had the strong support of Ritchie ofScotsmanfame, and the no less important influence of Mr. Duncan Maclaren.
When writing to ask Mr. Grindlay for his daughter’s hand, Simpson candidly confessed his pecuniary position at the time. He referred to a debt of £200 already owing to his brother Sandy, and added:—“Again he gave me a bill for £120 to assist me in furnishing my house. This has been renewed and becomes due in January. He hopes to be able to pay it, and I fondly imagined I would have62paid the half, but this canvass has involved me in new difficulties, and besides, I have endeavoured to assist my sister to go out to Van Diemen’s Land. As it is now I am self-sufficient enough to think that I am as well off as regards station in my profession as any who started here in the race of life with me. They have all, I believe, been aided by friends or by private wealth. They have almost all been fortunate enough to have the protection of a father’s roof during the first years of practice. I have had no such advantages, but have worked and stood alone. I have accumulated for myself a library and museum, worth £200 at least, amidst these difficulties. These I have won by my pen and my lancet, and these are my only fortune. And now could you trust her future happiness to me under such circumstances? I did not intend to ask her hand at present. I fondly hoped I might havefirstcleared myself of my debts.”
Grindlay did not hesitate, but willingly gave his daughter, as she was willingly given, for better or worse.
The expenses of the canvass amounted to about £500, an amazingly large sum; he spared no expense in printing and posting his testimonials and letters to every one who had any influence with the Council, however small; but taking into consideration the cost of printing and postage in 1839, it is difficult to realise how the money was expended. His aim was to make known his scientific attainments, powers63as a teacher, and personal qualifications which he felt, if duly realised, would outweigh the disadvantages of his youth and comparative inexperience. His testimonials spoke in strong terms of his abilities and characteristics; they were a good deal more numerous and elaborate than is customary to-day, but Kennedy’s also made a fat volume of 150 octavo pages.
As the day of election drew near the excitement amongst citizens, professors, and students grew intense. Of the five candidates in the field, three, including his former teacher Thatcher, speedily fell out of the running. Dr. Evory Kennedy, of Dublin, and Simpson stood face to face as rivals. Kennedy was no mean opponent, and his supporters honestly considered him the better man of the two; his attainments certainly merited warm support. The prophets foretold a close struggle, and the event proved them correct. So keen was public interest that when a report was circulated that Kennedy was a bad lecturer, his friends brought him over from Dublin a few days before the election, hired a public room, and made him lecture to a crowded and enthusiastic audience to dispel that illusion. In spite of this the popular vote was decidedly in Simpson’s favour; if the citizens had had votes Simpson would have been returned at the head of the poll by a large majority.
On Tuesday, February 4, 1840, at a Council meeting, at which all thirty-three members were present, the Provost himself proposed Kennedy,64while Baillie Ramsay proposed Simpson. The result was awaited with breathless suspense, the chamber being crowded by anxious spectators. Simpson’s enthusiasm had infected his supporters; he had kindled the first sparks of that enthusiastic affection with which the citizens of Edinburgh ever after regarded him; when his triumph, by the narrowest majority, was announced, the cheers resounded loud and long.
The same evening he was able to write to Liverpool:—
“1, Dean Terrace.“I was this day elected Professor. My opponent had sixteen and I had seventeen votes. All the political influence of both the leading Whigs and Tories here was employed against me; but never mind, I have got the chair in despite of them, Professors and all. Jessie’s honeymoon and mine is to commence to-morrow.”
“1, Dean Terrace.
“I was this day elected Professor. My opponent had sixteen and I had seventeen votes. All the political influence of both the leading Whigs and Tories here was employed against me; but never mind, I have got the chair in despite of them, Professors and all. Jessie’s honeymoon and mine is to commence to-morrow.”
It was the man’s strong individuality which carried the day. The town councillors threw aside the political and academic bias of those who endeavoured to lead them, and elected the man who had boldly said, “Did I not feel I am the best man for the Chair I would not go in for it”; and had more boldly gone on showing them how thoroughly he felt what he said until they themselves came to believe it.