“This morning rose by half-past seven—dressed and breakfasted on coffee and rolls, read the Liége 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-natured gash old wives, and sonsy, laughing-faced, good-looking, nay, some of them very good-looking girls.”
The homeward journey was made viâ Birmingham, 46 Liverpool, 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 to 47 possess; 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 are 48 best 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 alleviate 49 human 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 his 50 knowledge 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 historical résumé of 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, 51 and 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.”