(1834-1892) |
The Great
Change - Conversion |
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I have
heard men tell the story of their conversion, and of their spiritual life, in
such a way that my heart hath loathed them and their story, too, for
they have told of their sins as if they did boast in the greatness of their
crime, and they have mentioned the love of God, not with a tear of gratitude,
not with the simple thanksgiving of the really humble heart, but as if they as
much exalted themselves as they exalted God. Oh! when
we tell the story of our own conversion, I would have it done with great
sorrow, remembering what we used to be, and with great joy and gratitude,
remembering how little we deserve these things. I was once preaching upon
conversion and salvation, and I felt within myself, as preachers often do,
that it was but dry work to tell this story, and a dull, dull tale it was to
me; but, on a sudden, the thought crossed my mind, "Why, you are a poor,
lost, ruined sinner yourself; tell it, tell it as you received it; begin to
tell of the grace of God as you trust you feel it yourself." Why, then,
my eyes began to be fountains of tears; those hearers who had nodded their
heads began to brighten up, and they listened, because they were hearing
something which the speaker himself felt, and which they recognized as being
true to him if it was not true to them. |
Can you
not remember, dearly-beloved, that day of days, that best and brightest of
hours, when first you saw the Lord, lost your burden, received the roll of
promise, rejoiced in full salvation, and went on your way in peace? My soul
can never forget that day. Dying, all but dead, diseased, pained, chained,
scourged, bound in fetters of iron, in darkness and the shadow of death,
Jesus appeared unto me. My eyes looked to Him; the disease was healed, the
pains removed, chains were snapped, prison doors were opened, darkness gave
place to light. What delight filled my soul!—what mirth, what ecstasy, what
sound of music and dancing, what soarings towards Heaven, what heights and
depths of ineffable delight! Scarcely ever since then have I known joys which
surpassed the rapture of that first hour.—C. H. S. |
LET our
lips crowd sonnets within the compass of a word; let our voice distil hours
of melody into a single syllable; let our tongue utter in one letter the
essence of the harmony of ages; for we write of an hour which as far
excelleth all other days of our life as gold exceedeth dross. As the night of
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When I was
in the hand of the Holy Spirit, under conviction of sin, I had a clear and
sharp sense of the justice of God. Sin, whatever it might be to other people,
became to me an intolerable burden. It was not so much that I feared hell, as
that I feared sin; and all the while, I had upon my mind a deep concern for
the honour of God's name, and the integrity of His moral government. I felt
that it would not satisfy my conscience if I could be forgiven unjustly. But
then there came the question,—"How could God be just, and yet justify me
who had been so guilty?" I was worried and wearied with this question;
neither could I see any answer to it. Certainly, I could never have invented
an answer which would have satisfied my conscience. The doctrine of the
atonement is to my mind one of the surest proofs of the Divine inspiration of
Holy Scripture. Who would or could have thought of the just Ruler dying for
the unjust rebel? This is no teaching of human mythology, or dream of
poetical imagination. This method of expiation is only known among men
because it is a fact: fiction could not have devised it. God Himself ordained
it; it is not a matter which could have been imagined. |
I had
heard of the plan of salvation by the sacrifice of Jesus from my youth up but
I did not know any more about it in my innermost soul than if I had been born
and bred a Hottentot. The light was there, but I was blind: it was of
necessity that the Lord Himself should make the matter plain to me. It came
to me as a new revelation, as fresh as if I had never read in Scripture that
Jesus was declared to be the propitiation for sins that God might be just. I
believe it will have to come as a revelation to every new-born child of God
whenever he sees it; I mean that glorious doctrine of the substitution of the
Lord Jesus. I came to understand that salvation was possible through
vicarious sacrifice; and that provision had been made in the first
constitution and arrangement of things for such a substitution. I was made to
see that He who is the Son of God, co-equal, and co-eternal with the Father,
had of old been made the covenant Head of a chosen people, that He might in
that capacity suffer for them and save them. Inasmuch as our fall was not at
the first a personal one, for we fell in our federal representative, the
first Adam, it became possible for us to be recovered by a second
Representative, even by Him who has undertaken to be the covenant Head of His
people, so as to be their second Adam. I saw that, ere I actually sinned, I
had fallen by my first father's sin; and I rejoiced that, therefore, it
became possible in point of law for me to rise by a second Head and
Representative. The fall by Adam left a loophole of escape; another Adam
could undo the ruin wrought by the first. |
When I was
anxious about the possibility of a just God pardoning me, I understood and
saw by faith that He who is the Son of God became man, and in His own blessed
person bore my sin in His own body on the tree. I saw that the chastisement
of my peace was laid on Him, and that with His stripes I was healed. It was
because the Son of God, supremely glorious in His matchless person, undertook
to vindicate the law by bearing the sentence due to me, that therefore God
was able to pass by my sin. My sole hope for Heaven lies in the full
atonement made upon |
There was
a day, as I took my walks abroad, when I came hard by a spot for ever
engraven upon my memory, for there I saw this Friend, my best, my only
Friend, murdered. I stooped down in sad affright, and looked at Him. I saw
that His hands had been pierced with rough iron nails, and His feet had been
rent in the same way. There was misery in His dead countenance so terrible
that I scarcely dared to look upon it. His body was emaciated with hunger,
His back was red with bloody scourges, and His brow had a circle of wounds
about it: clearly could one see that these had been pierced by thorns. I
shuddered, for I had known this Friend full well. He never had a fault; He
was the purest of the pure, the holiest of the holy. Who could have injured
Him? For He never injured any man: all His life long He "went about
doing good;" He had healed the sick, He had fed the hungry, He had
raised the dead: for which of these works did they kill Him? He had never
breathed out anything else but love; and as I looked into the poor sorrowful
face, so full of agony, and yet so full of love, I wondered who could have
been a wretch so vile as to pierce hands like His. I said within myself,
"Where can these traitors live? Who are these that could have smitten
such an One as this? Had they murdered an oppressor, we might have forgiven
them; had they slain one who had indulged in vice or villainy, it might have
been his desert; had it been a murderer and a rebel, or one who had committed
sedition, we would have said, "Bury his corpse: justice has at last
given him his due." But when Thou wast slain, my best, my only-beloved,
where lodged the traitors? Let me seize them, and they shall be put to death.
If there be torments that I can devise, surely they shall endure them all.
Oh! what jealousy; what revenge I felt! If I might but find these murderers,
what would I not do with them! And as I looked upon that corpse, I heard a
footstep, and wondered where it was. I listened, and I clearly perceived that
the murderer was close at hand. It was dark, and I groped about to find him.
I found that, somehow or other, wherever I put out my hand, I could not meet
with him, for he was nearer to me than my hand would go. At last I put my
hand upon my breast. "I have thee now," said I; for lo! he was in
my own heart; the murderer was hiding within my own bosom, dwelling in the
recesses of my inmost soul. Ah! then I wept indeed, that I, in the very
presence of my murdered Master, should be harbouring the murderer; and I felt
myself most guilty while I bowed over His corpse, and sang that plaintive
hymn,— |
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"'Twas
you, my sins, my cruel sins, |
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Amid the
rabble rout which hounded the Redeemer to His doom, there were some gracious
souls whose bitter anguish sought vent in wailing and lamentations,—fit music
to accompany that march of woe. When my soul can, in imagination, see the
Saviour bearing His cross to |
Why those
women loved and wept, it were not hard to guess; but
they could not have had greater reasons for love and grief than my heart has.
Nain's widow saw her son restored; but I myself have been raised to newness
of life. Peter's wife's mother was cured of the fever; but I of the greater
plague of sin. Out of Magdalene seven devils were cast;—but a whole legion
out of me. Mary and Martha were favoured with visits from Him; but He dwells
with me. His mother bare His body; but He is formed in me, "the hope of
glory." In nothing behind the holy women in debt, let me not be behind
them in gratitude or sorrow. |
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Love and
grief my heart dividing, |
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There is a
power in God's gospel beyond all description. Once I, like Mazeppa, lashed to
the wild horse of my lust, bound hand and foot, incapable of resistance, was
galloping on with hell's wolves behind me, howling for my body and my soul as
their just and lawful prey. There came a mighty hand which stopped that wild
horse, cut my bands, set me down, and brought me into liberty. Is there power
in the gospel? Ay, there is, and he who has felt it must acknowledge it.
There was a time when I lived in the strong old castle of my sins, and rested
in my own works. There came a trumpeter to the door, and bade me open it. I
with anger chid him from the porch, and said he ne'er should enter. Then
there came a goodly Personage, with loving countenance; His hands were marked
with scars where nails had been driven, and His feet had nail-prints, too. He
lifted up His cross, using it as a hammer; at the first blow, the gate of my
prejudice shook; at the second, it trembled more; at the third, down it fell,
and in He came; and He said, "Arise, and stand upon thy feet, for I have
loved thee with an everlasting love." The gospel a thing of power! Ah!
that it is. It always wears the dew of its youth; it glitters with morning's
freshness, its strength and its glory abide for ever. I have felt its power
in my own heart; I have the witness of the Spirit within my spirit, and I
know it is a thing of might, because it has conquered me, and bowed me down. |
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"His free
grace alone, from the first to the last, |
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When, for
the first time, I received the gospel to my soul's salvation, I thought that
I had never really heard it before, and I began to think that the preachers
to whom I had listened had not truly preached it. But, on looking back, I am
inclined to believe that I had heard the gospel fully preached many hundreds
of times before, and that this was the difference,—that I then heard it as
though I heard it not; and when I did hear it, the message may not have been
any more clear in itself than it had been at former times, but the power of
the Holy Spirit was present to open my ear, and to guide the message to my
heart. I have no doubt that I heard, scores of times, such texts as
these,—"He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved;"
"Look unto Me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth;"
"As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son
of man be lifted up: that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but
have everlasting life;" yet I had no intelligent idea of what faith meant.
When I first discovered what faith really was, and exercised it,—for with me
these two things came together, I believed as soon as ever I knew what
believing meant,—then I thought I had never before heard that truth preached.
But, now, I am persuaded that the light often shone on my eyes, but I was
blind, and therefore I thought that the light had never come there. The light
was shining all the while, but there was no power to receive it; the eyeball
of the soul was not sensitive to the Divine beams. |
I could
not believe that it was possible that my sins could be forgiven. I do
not know why, but I seemed to be the odd person in the world. When the
catalogue was made out, it appeared to me that, for some reason, I must have
been left out. If God had saved me, and not the world, I should have wondered
indeed; but if He had saved all the world except me, that would have seemed
to me to be but right. And now, being saved by grace, I cannot help saying,
"I am indeed a brand plucked out of the fire!" I believe that some
of us who were kept by God a long while before we found Him, love Him better
perhaps than we should have done if we had received Him directly; and we can
preach better to others, we can speak more of His lovingkindness and tender
mercy. John Bunyan could not have written as he did if he had not been
dragged about by the devil for many years. I love that picture of dear old
Christian. I know, when I first read The Pilgrim's Progress, and saw
in it the woodcut of Christian carrying the burden on his back, I felt so
interested in the poor fellow, that I thought I should jump with joy when,
after he had carried his heavy load so long, he at last got rid of it; and
that was how I felt when the burden of guilt, which I had borne so long, was
for ever rolled away from my shoulders and my heart. |
I can
recollect when, like the poor dove sent out by Noah from his hand, I flew
over the wide expanse of waters, and hoped to find some place where I might
rest my wearied wing. Up towards the North I flew; and my eye looked keenly
through the mist and darkness, if perhaps it might find some floating
substance on which my soul might rest its foot, but it found nothing. Again
it turned its wing, and flapped it, but not so rapidly as before, across that
deep water that knew no shore; but still there was no rest. The raven had
found its resting-place upon a floating body, and was feeding itself upon the
carrion of some drowned man's carcass; but my poor soul found no rest. I flew
on; I fancied I saw a ship sailing out at sea; it was the ship of the law;
and I thought I would put my feet on its canvas, or rest myself on its
cordage for a time, and find some refuge. But, ah! it was an airy phantom, on
which I could not rest; for my foot had no right to rest on the law; I had
not kept it, and the soul that keepeth it not, must die. At last I saw the
barque Christ Jesus, that happy ark; and I thought I would fly
thither; but my poor wing was weary, I could fly no further, and down I sank;
but, as providence would have it, when my wings were flagging, and I was
falling into the flood to be drowned, just below me was the roof of the ark,
and I saw a hand put out from it, and One took hold of me, and said, "I
have loved thee with an everlasting love, therefore I have not delivered the
soul of My turtle-dove unto the multitude of the wicked; come in, come
in!" Then I found that I had in my mouth an olive leaf of peace with
God, and peace with man, plucked off by Jesus' mighty power. |
Once, God
preached to me by a similitude in the depth of winter. The earth had been
black, and there was scarcely a green thing or a flower to be seen. As I
looked across the fields, there was nothing but barrenness,—bare hedges and
leafless trees, and black, black earth, wherever I gazed. On a sudden, God
spake, and unlocked the treasures of the snow, and white flakes descended
until there was no blackness to be seen, and all was one sheet of dazzling
whiteness. It was at the time that I was seeking the Saviour, and not long
before I found Him; and I remember well that sermon which I saw before me in
the snow: "Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though
your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red
like crimson, they shall be as wool." |
Personally,
I have to bless God for many good books; I thank Him for Dr. Doddridge's Rise
and Progress of Religion in the Soul; for Baxter's Call to the
Unconverted; for Alleine's Alarm to Sinners; and for James's Anxious
Enquirer; but my gratitude most of all is due to God, not for books, but
for the preached Word,—and that too addressed to me by a poor, uneducated
man, a man who had never received any training for the ministry, and probably
will never be heard of in this life, a man engaged in business, no doubt of a
humble kind, during the week, but who had just enough of grace to say on the
Sabbath, "Look unto Me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the
earth." The books were good, but the man was better. The revealed Word
awakened me; but it was the preached Word that saved me; and I must ever
attach peculiar value to the hearing of the truth, for by it I
received the joy and peace in which my soul delights. While under concern of
soul, I resolved that I would attend all the places of worship in the town
where I lived, in order that I might find out the way of salvation. I was
willing to do anything, and be anything, if God would only forgive my sin. I
set off, determined to go round to all the chapels, and I did go to every
place of worship; but for a long time I went in vain. I do not, however,
blame the ministers. One man preached Divine Sovereignty; I could hear him
with pleasure, but what was that sublime truth to a poor sinner who wished to
know what he must do to be saved? There was another admirable man who always
preached about the law; but what was the use of ploughing up ground that
needed to be sown? Another was a practical preacher. I heard him, but it was
very much like a commanding officer teaching the manoeuvres of war to a set
of men without feet. What could I do? All his exhortations were lost on me. I
knew it, was said, "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be
saved;" but I did not know what it was to believe on Christ. These good
men all preached truths suited to many in their congregations who were
spiritually-minded people; but what I wanted to know was,—"How can I get
my sins forgiven?"—and they never told me that. I desired to hear how a
poor sinner, under a sense of sin, might find peace with God; and when I
went, I heard a sermon on "Be not deceived, God is not mocked,"
which cut me up still worse; but did not bring me into rest. I went again,
another day, and the text was something about the glories of the righteous;
nothing for poor me! I was like a dog under the table, not allowed to eat of
the children's food. I went time after time, and I can honestly say that I do
not know that I ever went without prayer to God, and I am sure there was not
a more attentive hearer than myself in all the place, for I panted and longed
to understand how I might be saved. |
I
sometimes think I might have been in darkness and despair until now had it
not been for the goodness of God in sending a snowstorm, one Sunday morning,
while I was going to a certain place of worship. When I could go no further, I
turned down a side street, and came to a little Primitive Methodist Chapel.
In that chapel there may have been a dozen or fifteen people. I had heard of
the Primitive Methodists, how they sang so loudly that they made people's
heads ache; but that did not matter to me. I wanted to know how I might be
saved, and if they could tell me that, I did not care how much they made my
head ache. The minister did not come that morning; he was snowed up, I
suppose. At last, a very thin-looking man,*
a shoemaker, or tailor, or something of that sort, went up into the pulpit to
preach. Now, it is well that preachers should be instructed; but this man was
really stupid. He was obliged to stick to his text, for the simple reason
that he had little else to say. The text was,— |
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"LOOK
UNTO ME, AND BE YE SAVED, ALL THE ENDS OF THE EARTH." |
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Then the
good man followed up his text in this way:—"Look unto Me; I am sweatin'
great drops of blood. Look unto Me; I am hangin' on the cross. Look unto Me; I
am dead and buried. Look unto Me; I rise again. Look unto Me; I ascend to
Heaven. Look unto Me; I am sittin' at the Father's right hand. O poor sinner,
look unto Me! look unto Me! |
When he
had gone to about that length, and managed to spin out ten minutes or so, he
was at the end of his tether. Then he looked at me under the gallery, and I
daresay, with so few present, he knew me to be a stranger. Just fixing his
eyes on me, as if he knew all my heart, he said, "Young man, you look
very miserable." Well, I did; but I had not been accustomed to have
remarks made from the pulpit on my personal appearance before. However, it
was a good blow, struck right home. He continued, "and you always will
be miserable—miserable in life, and miserable in death,—if you don't obey my
text; but if you obey now, this moment, you will be saved." Then,
lifting up his hands, he shouted, as only a Primitive Methodist could do,
"Young man, look to Jesus Christ. Look! Look! Look! You have nothin' to
do but to look and live." I saw at once the way of salvation. I know not
what else he said,—I did not take much notice of it,—I was so possessed with
that one thought. Like as when the brazen serpent was lifted up, the people
only looked and were healed, so it was with me. I had been waiting to do
fifty things, but when I heard that word, "Look!" what a charming
word it seemed to me! Oh! I looked until I could almost have looked my eyes
away. There and then the cloud was gone, the darkness had rolled away, and
that moment I saw the sun; and I could have risen that instant, and sung with
the most enthusiastic of them, of the precious blood of Christ, and the
simple faith which looks alone to Him. Oh, that somebody had told me this
before, "Trust Christ, and you shall be saved." Yet it was, no
doubt, all wisely ordered, and now I can say,— |
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"Ever
since by faith I saw the stream |
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It is not
everyone who can remember the very day and hour of his, deliverance; but, as
Richard Knill said, "At such a time of the day, clang went every harp in
Heaven, for Richard Knill was born again," it was e'en so with me.**
The clock of mercy struck in Heaven the hour and moment of my emancipation, for
the time had come. Between half-past |
There was
never anything so true to me as those bleeding hands, and that thorn-crowned
head. Home, friends, health, wealth, comforts—all lost their lustre that day
when He appeared, just as stars are hidden by the light of the sun. He was
the only Lord and Giver of life's best bliss, the one well of living water
springing up unto everlasting life. As I saw Jesus on His cross before me,
and as I mused upon His sufferings and death, methought I saw Him cast a look
of love upon me; and then I looked at Him, and cried,— |
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Jesus,
lover of my soul, |
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When I
look back upon it, I can see one reason why the Word was blessed to me as I
heard it preached in that Primitive Methodist Chapel at |
The Holy
Spirit, who enabled me to believe, gave me peace through believing. I felt as
sure that I was forgiven as before I felt sure of condemnation. I had been
certain of my condemnation because the Word of God declared it, and my
conscience bore witness to it; but when the Lord justified me, I was made
equally certain by the same witnesses. The Word of the Lord in the Scripture
saith, "He that believeth on Him is not condemned," and my
conscience bore witness that I believed, and that God in pardoning me was
just. Thus I had the witness of the Holy Spirit and also of my own
conscience, and these two agreed in one. That great and excellent man, Dr.
Johnson, used to hold the opinion that no man ever could know that he was
pardoned,—that there was no such thing as assurance of faith. Perhaps, if Dr.
Johnson had studied his Bible a little more, and had had a little more of the
enlightenment of the Spirit, he, too, might have come to know his own pardon.
Certainly, he was no very reliable judge of theology, any more than he was of
porcelain, which he once attempted to make, and never succeeded. I think both
in theology and porcelain his opinion is of very little value. |
How can a
man know that he is pardoned? There is a text which says, "Believe on
the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." I believe on the Lord
Jesus Christ; is it irrational to believe that I am saved? "He that
believeth on the Son hath everlasting life," saith Christ, in John's
Gospel. I believe on Christ; am I absurd in believing that I have eternal
life? I find the apostle Paul speaking by the Holy Ghost, and saying,
"There is therefore now no condemnation to them that are in Christ
Jesus. Being justified by faith, we have peace with God." If I know that
my trust is fixed on Jesus only, and that I have faith in Him, were it not
ten thousand times more absurd for me not to be at peace, than for me to be
filled with joy unspeakable? It is but taking God at His Word, when the soul
knows, as a necessary consequence of its faith, that it is saved. I took
Jesus as my Saviour, and I was saved; and I can tell the reason why I took
Him for my Saviour. To my own humiliation, I must confess that I did it
because I could not help it; I was shut up to it. That stern law-work had
hammered me into such a condition that, if there had been fifty other
saviours, I could not have thought of them,—I was driven to this One. I
wanted a Divine Saviour, I wanted One who was made a curse for me, to expiate
my guilt. I wanted One who had died, for I deserved to die. I wanted One who
had risen again, who was able by His life to make me live. I wanted the exact
Saviour that stood before me in the Word, revealed to my heart; and I could
not help having Him. I could realize then the language of Rutherford when, being
full of love to Christ, once upon a time, in the dungeon of Aberdeen, he
said, "O my Lord, if there were a broad hell betwixt me and Thee, if I
could not get at Thee except by wading through it, I would not think twice,
but I would go through it all, if I might but embrace Thee, and call Thee
mine!" Oh, how I loved Him! Passing all loves except His own, was that
love which I felt for Him then. If, beside the door of the place in which I
met with Him, there had been a stake of blazing faggots, I would have stood
upon them without chains, glad to give my flesh, and blood, and bones, to be
ashes that should testify my love to Him. Had He asked me then to give all my
substance to the poor, I would have given all, and thought myself to be
amazingly rich in having beggared myself for His name's sake. Had He
commanded me then to preach in the midst of all His foes, I could have said,—
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"There's
not a lamb in all Thy flock |
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I have
always considered, with Luther and Calvin, that the sum and substance of the
gospel lies in that word Substitution,—Christ standing in the stead of
man. If I understand the gospel, it is this: I deserve to be lost for ever;
the only reason why I should not be damned is, that Christ was punished in my
stead, and there is no need to execute a sentence twice for sin. On the other
hand, I know I cannot enter Heaven unless I have a perfect righteousness; I
am absolutely certain I shall never have one of my own, for I find I sin
every day; but then Christ had a perfect righteousness, and He said,
"There, poor sinner, take My garment, and put it on; you shall stand
before God as if you were Christ, and I will stand before God as if I had
been the sinner; I will suffer in the sinner's stead, and you shall be
rewarded for works which you did not do, but which I did for you." I
find it very convenient every day to come to Christ as a sinner, as I came at
the first. "You are no saint," says the devil. Well, if I am not, I
am a sinner, and Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners. Sink or
swim, I go to Him; other hope I have none. By looking to Him, I received all
the faith which inspired me with confidence in His grace; and the word that
first drew my soul—"Look unto Me,"—still rings its clarion note in
my ears. There I once found conversion, and there I shall ever find
refreshing and renewal. |
Let me
bear my personal testimony of what I have seen, what my own ears have heard, and
my own heart has tasted. First, Christ is the only-begotten of the Father. He
is Divine to me, if He be human to all the world besides. He has done that
for me which none but a God could do. He has subdued my stubborn will, melted
a heart of adamant, broken a chain of steel, opened the gates of brass, and
snapped the bars of iron. He hath turned for me my mourning into laughter,
and my desolation into joy; He hath led my captivity captive, and made my
heart rejoice with joy unspeakable, and full of glory. Let others think as
they will of Him, to me He must ever be the only-begotten of the Father:
blessed be His holy name! |
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Oh, that I
could now adore Him, |
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Finally, I
bear my witness that He is full of truth. True have His promises been; not
one has failed. I have often doubted Him, for that I blush; He has never failed
me, in this I must rejoice. His promises have been yea and amen. I do but
speak the testimony of every believer in Christ, though I put it thus
personally to make it the more forcible. I bear witness that never servant
had such a Master as I have; never brother had such a Kinsman as He has been
to me; never spouse had such a Husband as Christ has been to my soul; never
sinner a better Saviour; never soldier a better Captain; never mourner a
better Comforter than Christ bath been to my spirit. I want none beside Him.
In life, He is my life; and in death, He shall be the death of death; in
poverty, Christ is my riches; in sickness, He makes my bed; in darkness, He
is my Star; and in brightness, He is my Sun. By faith I understand that ' the
blessed Son of God redeemed my soul with His own heart's blood; and by sweet
experience I know that He raised me up from the pit of dark despair, and set
my feet on the rock. He died for me. This is the root of every satisfaction I
have. He put all my transgressions away. He cleansed me with His precious
blood; He covered me with His perfect righteousness; He wrapped me up in His
own virtues. He has promised to keep me, while I abide in this world, from
its temptations and snares; and when I depart from this world, He has already
prepared for me a mansion in the Heaven of unfading bliss, and a crown of
everlasting joy that shall never, never fade away. To me, then, the days or
years of my mortal sojourn on this earth are of little moment. Nor is the
manner of my decease of much consequence. Should foemen sentence me to
martyrdom, or physicians declare that I must soon depart this life, it is all
alike,— |
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A few more
rolling suns at most |
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From
Spurgeon's Autobiography |
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* It is
remarkable that no less than three persons claimed to have been the preacher
on this occasion, but Mr. Spurgeon did not recognize any one of them as the
man to whom he then listened. |
** It is definitely
known that the date of Mr. Spurgeon's conversion was |
*** On one
of the foundation stones of the School-Chapel erected at Bexhill-on-Sea in
ever-loving memory of Mr. Spurgeon, the following inscription has been cut,
in the hope that passersby may find salvation through reading the passage of
Scripture which was blessed to his conversion:— |
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HOW C. H.
SPURGEON FOUND CHRIST. |
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From: http://www.spurgeon.org/ |