Sir James Young Simpson (1811-1870) was born at Bathgate, Linlithgowshire. Like most Scots children of his time he was brought up on the Bible and the Shorter Catechism. In 1840 he was elected to the Chair of Obstetric Medicine in Edinburgh University. Here he carried out a series of hazardous experiments upon himself in the use of anaesthetics, resulting in the epoch-making medical discovery of chloroform. An interviewer once asked him: ‘What did you consider was the greatest discovery you ever made?’ The professor replied without hesitation: ‘That I have a Saviour?’ (E.B. Simpson, Sir James Young Simpson, Oliphant, Anderson & Ferrier, 1896, p. 127)
Sir James Young Simpson was an elder at St Columba’s Free Church (formerly called Free St John’s) in Edinburgh and ran a free medical dispensary for the poor at Carrubbers’ Close Mission on the Royal Mile. Below is his own testimony, reproduced with the kind permission of the Sovereign Grace Union.
‘A SCIENTIST’S TESTIMONY
When I was a boy at school I saw a sight that I can never forget – a man tied to a cart and dragged before the people’s eyes through the streets of my native town, his back torn and bleeding from the lash. It was a shameful punishment. For many offences? No; for one offence. Did any of the townsfolk offer to share the lashes with him? No; he who committed the offence bore the penalty alone. It was the penalty of a changing human law, for this was the last instance of its affliction.
When I was a student at the University I saw another sight that I can never forget – a man brought out to die, His arms were pinioned, his face was already pale as death while thousands of eager eyes gazed on him as he came up from the gaol.
Did anyone ask to die in his place? Did any friend come and loose the rope and say: ‘Put it around my neck and let me die instead’? No; he underwent the sentence of the law. For many offences? No; for one offence. He had stolen a parcel from a stage coach. He had broken the law at one point and must now die for it. It was the penalty of a changing human law in this case too; it was also the last instance of capital punishment for that offence.
I saw another sight – it matters not when – myself a sinner standing on the brink of ruin, deserving nought but hell. For one sin? No; for many sins committed against the unchanging laws of God. But again I looked and saw JESUS, my substitute, scourged in my stead and dying on the cross for me. I looked and cried and was forgiven. And it seems to be my duty to tell you of that Saviour, to see if you will not also look and live:
Bound upon th’ accursed tree,
Faint and bleeding, who is he?
By the eyes so pale and dim,
Streaming blood and writhing limb,
By the lash with scourges torn,
By the crown of twisted thorn,
By the side so deeply pierc’d,
By the baffled burning thirst,
By the drooping death-dew’d brow,
Son of Man, ‘tis thou! ‘tis thou!
Bound upon th’accursed tree,
Dread and awful, who is he?
By the sun at noon-day pale,
Shiv’ring rocks and rending veil,
By earth trembling at his doom,
By the saints who burst their tomb,
By Eden promis’d ere he died
To the felon at his side,
Lord, our suppliant knees we bow;
Son of God, ‘tis thou! ‘tis thou!
How simple it all becomes when the Holy Spirit opens the eyes! A friend from Paris told me of an English groom there, a careless old man who during a severe illness had been made to feel that he was a sinner. He dared not die as he was. The clergyman for whom he sent grew tired of visiting him, having often told him the way of salvation.
One Sabbath afternoon, however, the groom’s daughter waited in the vestry after church, saying: ‘You must come once more, sir; I cannot see my father again without you.’ ‘I can tell him nothing new,’ said the clergyman, ‘but I may take the sermon I have been preaching and read it to him.’
The dying man lay as before in anguish thinking of his sins and whither they must carry him. ‘My friend, I have come to read you the sermon that I have just preached. First, let me tell you the text: ‘He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon him and with his stripes we are healed’ (Isaiah 53 verse 5). Now I will read…’
‘Stop! said the dying man, ‘I have it! I have it! Read no more. He was wounded for my transgressions. That is enough!’ Soon afterwards he died rejoicing in Jesus.
When I heard the story I remembered Archimedes running through the streets of Syracuse straight from the bath where he had discovered in bathing the secret of testing whether King Hiero’s crown had, or had not, been alloyed by the goldsmith in making it – and as he ran he cried: Eureka! Eureka! (I have found it! I have found it!)
Poor philosopher! You had merely found out a new principle in science. Happy groom! You had found in JESUS Christ a crown of glory that fadeth not away.’
Sir James Young Simpson.’