children, "wee Jamie," deepened these impressions, and for a time he continued to address religious meetings. But he still continued to work with the old earnestness, and his archæological studies were as dear to him as ever. In 1866 the Queen conferred a baronetcy upon him. This was the signal for congratulations from all quarters, and the Lancet, in commenting upon it, said: "The conferring of this distinction must give, we think, universal satisfaction. Sir James has long been foremost in his department of practice, and his name is associated with the discovery of that invaluable boon to suffering humanity -chloroform. This alone would entitle him to the honour he has received. Sir James Y. Simpson is distinguished as an obstetric practitioner, as a physiologist, as an operator, and as a pathologist of great research and originality. His reputation is European, and the honour is fully deserved." The death of his eldest son, Dr. David James Simpson, shortly after receiving this honour, cast a gloom over No. 52 Queen Street. The death of a daughter, Jessie, at the early age of seventeen, was a new stroke to him. "Standing by her coffin," says his biographer, "he was able, as when he knelt by those of Jamie and of Davie, to say, 'Even so, Father; not my will, but Thine be done;' and to hear Christ's very voice, 'What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter.”” But his work, the true antidote for sorrow, was entered into as heartily as before. In 1866 he received the degree of Doctor of Civil Law from the University of Oxford.

During the years 1866-67 he was busier than ever with his archæological studies. When any discovery of consequence was made in any part of the country, the result was pretty sure to be communicated to him. He published his own most important contribution to the science of this subject under the

title of "Archaic Sculpturings of Cups, Circles, &c., upon Stones and Rocks in Scotland, England, and other countries." On the 25th August, 1868, he received a note from Provost William Chambers telling him that it was the intention of the Lord Provost, Magistrates, and Council to present him with the freedom of the city. The presentation took place about a year after this date. In the autumn of 1868 he gained the close acquaintance of Mr. Spurgeon. That this acquaintance was

useful and valuable on both sides is seen from one of Mr. Spurgeon's notes, written after Sir James had made a professional call upon his wife. "I am writing far into the night to tell friends how my dear wife has sped. That dear angel of mercy, Sir James Simpson, has been very successful, as usual, and the operation is well over; patient, very patient, and in good spirits. Ií you know ten thousand eloquent men in Scotland, I would give them work for the next hundred years, viz., to praise the Lord for sending to us such a man, so skilful and so noble a doctor."

Early in 1870 it became clear to his familiar friends that he was more easily "knocked up than usual." In February Simpson had some severe attacks of illness, and by the end of the month he was quite prostrate. Those who were privileged to be present, said it was a wonderful sick-room. He would say: "I have not lived so near to Christ as I desired to do. I have had a busy life, but have not given so much time to eternal things as I should have sought. my merit I am to trust to for eternal life.

he added with a sigh, "I have not got far

Yet I know it is not Christ is all." Then on in the divine life."

A friend said we are complete in Him. "Yes, that's it," he

replied with a smile.

"The hymn expresses my thought:

'Just as I am, without one plea,

But that Thy blood was shed for me.'

I so like that hymn." The days passed on. "The brother," says his biographer, "who had watched over him so tenderly in childhood, helped him in youth, and rejoiced in all the successes of his bright career, spent with him his last night but one on earth. He sat on the pillow with Sir James's head on his knee, on which he had been dandled in childhood, hearing ever and anon throughout that night's silent watching, the touching words, soft, and low, and slow, as if a weary sick child spoke, 'O Sandy, Sandy!"" On 6th May, 1870, he died without a struggle. A grave for the great departed in Westminster Abbey was offered to the family, but knowing Sir James's wish, this was declined, and the funeral took place to Warriston Cemetery on the 13th May. The funeral was one of the largest ever witnessed in Edinburgh. It was computed that over thirty thousand persons were present, either as spectators or as taking part in the procession.

L

GALLERY OF GREAT INVENTORS AND

DISCOVERERS.

"All the inventions that the world contains,
Were not by reason first found out nor brains;
But pass for theirs who had the luck to light
Upon them by mistake or oversight.”—BUTLER.

LMOST all useful discoveries, it has been remarked, have been made not by the brilliancy of genius, but by the right direction of the mind to one object. In all trades, in all professions, success can be expected only from undivided attention. This common-sense view of things, a little different from that in the motto given above, is what we should adopt as we travel through the world of invention and discovery.

ROGER BACON.

Roger Bacon, a learned English monk of the Franciscan order, who flourished in the thirteenth century, was born near Ilchester, in Somersetshire, in 1214, and was descended of a very ancient and honourable family. He received the first tincture of letters at Oxford, where, having gone through grammar and logic, the dawnings of his genius gained him the favour and patronage of the greatest lovers of learning, and such as were equally distinguished by their high rank and the excellence of their knowledge. It is not very clear, says the "Biographia Britannica," whether he was of Merton College or of

Brazenose College, and perhaps he studied at neither, but spent his time at the public schools.

He went early over to Paris, where he made still greater progress in all parts of learning, and was looked upon as the glory of that university and an honour to his country. At Paris he did not confine his studies to any particular branch of literature, but endeavoured to comprehend the sciences in general fully and perfectly by a right method and constant application.

When he had attained the degree of Doctor, he returned again to his own country, and, as some say, took the habit of the Franciscans in 1240, when he was about twenty-six years of age; but others assert that he became a monk before he left France. After his return to Oxford, he was considered by the greatest men of that university as one of the ablest and most indefatigable inquirers after knowledge that the world had ever produced; and therefore they not only showed him all due respect, but likewise, conceiving the greatest hopes from his improvements in the method of study, they generously contributed to his expenses, so that he was enabled to lay out, within the compass of twenty years, no less than £2000 in collecting curious authors, making trials of various kinds, and in the construction of different instruments for the improvement of useful knowledge.

But if this assiduous application to his studies, and the stupendous progress he made in them, raised his credit with the better part of mankind, it excited the envy of some, and afforded plausible pretences for the malicious designs of others. It is very easy to conceive that the experiments he made in all parts of natural philosophy and the mathematics must have made a great noise in an ignorant age, when scarcely two or