Narrative of His Conversion
It was in the spring of 1743, as I was working in the service of my master (as a shipwright), on board a ship, near the New Quay at Plymouth, that intelligence was brought by one of our fellow-workman, that a minister of the name of Whitfield was going to preach in the open fields, at Teat's Hill, opposite where we were at work. Soon after we heard his voice; and, concluding that the man was mad, we resolved to go over, and knock him off the place whereon he stood. We were six of us, as well as I can recollect, which joined in this resolution. And I cannot even now proceed in the relation of the account, without stopping to admire and adore, in this instance as well as what happens in many others, the distinguishing riches of grace. For one of my six companions, not a great while after this, died by the hands of justice, shamefully at Tyburn.
Away we ran, as if going to take a rich prize; and so indeed it proved to me, and to me only, of the whole company. As soon as we had passed the wall of the French prison, Mr Whitefield opened to our view, extending his arms, and calling with his voice poor sinners to Christ Jesus. I was struck with amazement, and, indeed, so arrested, that I could not go a step farther until I had given attention to his words. He was preaching, as I afterwards learnt, from Acts 17:19,20. I had read somewhat of what he said in the Bible, yet knew no more the meaning than a wild indian; but I was instantly led to conclude that the man was not, as we had supposed, mad. The tide being out at the time, I went over the mud, ashamed of my engagement with my companions, and stood behind some of the people to avoid them. They went round in quest of me, as I supposed, but used no violence because they had lost their leader.
Every sentence in Mr Whitefield's sermon was delivered in such a divine, pathetic, and energetic strain, as cut me to the heart, and was enough (God applying it), as it seemed to me, to raise the dead. I went home very different from what I came out, much oppressed in spirit; and, as in the close of the sermon notice was given that he would preach again on the following evening, I not only resolved to be present, but the time seemed long until the evening arrived. Little did I know that my eternal Lord was thus ploughing up the fallow ground of my heart, in order to sow the seed of eternal grace. Little did I apprehend the gracious designs of His everlasting love toward me, and that He was now “making me willing in the day of His power.”
The clock on the succeeding evening no sooner struck six than I threw down my tools, and ran so earnestly, that my feet seemed but scarcely to touch the ground, influenced by a very different spirit from what I had felt before. Oh! Well may I exclaim, “What hath God wrought!” I arrived at the blessed spot (a very Bethel to my soul) about ten minutes before Mr Whitefield came. I got near to the table on which he was to stand; and instead of knocking him off, would have knocked any man down if any had dared to molest him. When he arrived, and had given out a hymn, and offered up a prayer for a blessing on his labours – in which he prayed as if he would engage heaven on his side, and pull down showers of Grace upon the people – I thought I beheld heaven in his very looks. My heart was melted at once. His subject was Jesus' mercy to the Jerusalem sinners, from Luke 24, last sentence of 47th verse, “Beginning at Jerusalem.” From these words God the Spirit led him to show the atrocious sin of crucifying the Lord of Glory. Secondly, he noticed the instruments who perpetrated this dreadful deed (from whence sprang such infinite good), which were the Jews and Roman soldiers. Then came the never-to-be-forgotten moment, as it concerned me. I stood at this left hand. He was not at this time looking towards me, but had just been observing, “I suppose that you are reflecting in you minds on the cruelty of those inhuman butchers who imbrued their hands in innocent blood.” When, on a sudden, turning himself towards me, as if designed (and I do believe from my heart the Lord designed it for me), he looked me full in the face, and cried out, “Sinner, thou art the man that crucified the Son of God.”
Then, and never before, I felt the word of God quick and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword. I knew not whether to stand or fall. My sins seemed to stare me all in the face. I was at once convicted; my heart bursting, mine eyes gushing forth with floods of tears. I dreaded the instant wrath of God, and expected that it would instantly fall upon me. None but those who have waded through the deep waters of a convinced conscience can form any idea of the horror I endured.
It was happy for me that Mr Whitefield, in the prosecution of his sermon, followed up his observations on the Jerusalem sinners with the merciful designs of the Lord Jesus. Having thundered out the terrors of the law, he proceeded to bring before us the allurements of the gospel. And never surely were the rich promises, invitations, and calls of the word of God, more sweetly delivered. His heart seemed to be so enlarged, his soul so melted, his voice and hands so extended, inviting the vilest sinners to come and accept of a full, free, and complete pardon in the blood and righteousness of the Lord Jesus Christ. “Come,” said he, “Come to Jesus just as you are. Come thou Jerusalem sinner. Jesus bids me call and invite thee to come. He saith Himself, all that do come He will in no wise cast out. Here is grace to pardon you; a fountain, to cleanse you; a righteousness, to clothe you; a full, finished, complete salvation in His blood. Come, sinner; come, come, come! My master bids you come! Now is the accepted time, now is the day of salvation! Hark how He calls you!”
It is impossible to describe what my feelings were, and with what different sensations I returned home. Sometimes I was led to think that any pardon could be for me; neither could I reconcile it with the view I now had of a Holy God and His Holy laws. At other times a glimpse of hope would arise, that as those Jerusalem sinners were pardoned, so might I. There was efficacy enough in Jesus' blood to cleanse from all sin. Thus, for a considerable time, was I variously agitated and exercised. Neither, till after many an attendance on the means of grace, was my soul brought into the happy liberty, wherewith the Lord makes His people free.
Oh, ye souls that war this holy warfare, what a wonder-working God you have to deal with! How infinitely gracious, how infinitely tender, are His dealings with His people! After that the Lord, hath brought you on, and brought you out, how sweetly manifested to your experience is that Scripture, “Many waters cannot quench love; neither can the floods drown it.” Truly it is said, “Thou, O God, hast proved us: thou hast tried us as silver is tried. Thou broughtest us into the net: thou laidest affliction upon our loins. Thou hast caused men to ride over our heads; we went through fire and through water, but thou broughtest us into a wealthy place.”
“Take a long look at Jesus – often, often. If you wanted to know a man again you would take an intense look at his face.
Look then at Jesus – deeply, intensely – till every feature is graven on your heart.”
Robert Murray McCheyne