Charles Haddon Spurgeon's
Conversion To Christ

At last there came a day when the hand of God was unmistakably extended to lead Charles Haddon Spurgeon a way he thought not of. He had intended to go to a certain chapel some distance from his home and set out upon the road. But a heavy snowstorm came on and prevented him from continuing the journey. He turned into an obscure street, and saw at the end of a court a little sanctuary which proved to be the Artillery Street Primitive Methodist Chapel.

The church, hitherto known to perhaps few people even in Colchester, was destined to become world-famed as the result of that visit by the youth of little more than fifteen years. He was not prepossessed in its favour as he entered, for he had always heard that the Primitive Methodists were people who sang so loudly that they made one's head ache. But even if this were true he cared not so long as they taught him how he might be saved. The remainder of the story shall be told by C. H. Spurgeon himself:

The minister did not come that morning; he was
snowed up, I suppose. At last a very thin-looking
man, a shoe-maker, 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 "Look unto
Me, and be ye saved all the ends of the earth."
He did not even pronounce the words rightly, but
that did not matter. There was, I thought, a
glimpse of hope for me in that text. The preacher
began thus.

"My dear friends, this is a very simple text
indeed. It says, 'Look.' now lookin' don't take a
deal of pains. It ain't liftin' your foot or your
finger; it is just 'Look.' Well, a man needn't go
to college to learn to look. You may be the
biggest fool and yet you can look. A man needn't
be worth a thousand a year to be able to look.
Anyone can look; even a child can look. But then
the text says, 'Look unto Me.' Ay!" he said in
broad Essex, "many on ye are lookin' to
yourselves, but it's no use lookin' there. You'll
never find any comfort in yourselves. Some look
to God the Father. No; look to Him by-and-by.
Jesus Christ says, 'Look unto Me.' Some on ye say,
'We must wait for the Spirit's workin'.' You have
no business with that just now. Look to Christ.
The text says, 'Look unto Me.'"

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 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 dare say 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 -
if you don't obey my text; but if you obey me
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! 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 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.

That happy day when I found the Saviour and
learned to cling to His dear feet was a day never
to be forgotten by me. An obscure child, unknown,
unheard of, I listened to the Word of God; and
that precious text led me to the cross of Christ.
I can testify that the joy of that day was
utterly indescribable. I could have leaped, I
could have danced; there was no expression,
however, fanatical, which would have been out of
keeping with the joy of my spirit at that hour.
Many days of Christian experience have passed
since then, but there has never been one which
has had the full exhilaration, the sparkling
delight which that first day had. I thought I
could have sprung from the seat on which I sat,
and have called out with the wildest of those
Methodist brethren who were present, "I am
forgiven! I am forgiven! A monument of grace! A
sinner saved by blood." I felt that I was an
emancipated soul, an heir of Heaven, a forgiven
one, accepted in Christ Jesus, plucked out of
the miry clay and out of the horrible pit; with
my feet upon a rock and my goings established I
thought I could dance all the way home. I could
understand what John Bunyan meant when he
declared he wanted to tell the crows on the
ploughed land all about his conversion.

The great event took place on the morning of Sunday, January 6th, 1850.

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