"YE MUST BE BORN AGAIN"
~100 WELL - KNOWN
MEN IN ALL
RANKS OF LIFE
The Prince of Preachers
C. H. SPURGEON, of the Metropolitan Tabernacle,
London, was born at Kelvedon, Essex, in 1834;
converted Jan., 1850, at the age of 15, at Colchester; gave
his first Gospel address at Faversham when he was 16, and
for thirty years declared almost weekly, to audiences
numbering five or six thousand, the glorious Gospel of
the blessed God; millions of his sermons have been scat-
tered in all parts of the world. He quietly passed from
Mentone to Heaven, Sunday, January 31, 1892, at 11.5.
Would you like to know how such a man got saved?
Here is his own description of it: "I sometimes think I
might have been in darkness and despair now, had it not
been for the goodness of God in sending a snowstorm one
Sunday morning, when I was going to a place of worship.
When I could go no further, I turned down a court and
came to a little Primitive Methodist Chapel. In that
chapel there might be a dozen or fifteen people. The
minister did not come that morning: snowed up, I sup-
pose. A poor man, a shoemaker, a tailor, or something
of that sort, went up into the pulpit to preach. He was
obliged to stick to his text, for the simple reason that he
had nothing else to say. The text was, Look unto [M]e,
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 the
text. He began thus: My dear friends, this is a very
simple text indeed. It says, "Look." Now that does not
take a deal of effort. It ain't lifting your foot or your
finger; it is just "look." Well, a man need not go to
college to learn to look. You may be the biggest fool,
and yet you can look. A man need not be worth a thou-
sand a year to look. Anyone can look; a child can look.
But this is what the text says. Then it says, "Look unto
[M]e[.]" Ay, said he, in broad Essex, many on ye are
looking to yourselves. No use looking there. You'll
never find comfort in yourselves. Then the good man
followed up his text in this way: Look unto Me: I am
sweating great drops of blood. Look unto Me; I am hang-
ing on the Cross. Look: I am dead and buried. Look
unto Me; I rise again. Look unto Me; I ascend; I am
sitting at the Father's right hand. O, look to Me! Look
to Me! When he had got about that length, and managed
to spin out ten minutes, he was at the length 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. He then
said, Young man, you look very miserable. Well, I did;
but I had not been accustomed to have remarks made on
my personal appearance from the pulpit before. However,
it was a good blow struck. He continued: And you will
always be miserable--miserable in life and miserable in
death--if you do not obey my text. But if you obey now,
this moment, you will be saved.
"Then he shouted, as only a Primitive Methodist can,
Young man, look to Jesus Christ. 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 mo-
ment and sung with the most enthusiastic of them of the
Precious Blood of Christ."
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