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The Life of D. L. Moody


NUMEROUS invitations have come to me recently, to write concerning the life and work of D. L. Moody, all of which were the publishers of this volume for several declined. I have, however, accepted the invitation of reasons.


Because they have made it possible for me in so doing to make a generous contribution to some benevolent or educational work, which I may select, my hope being that I might in this way contribute to the work for which Mr. Moody gave his life.


Because very many friends have urged upon me the so doing; they presented it to me as a call to duty as well as a privilege, they told me it was a golden opportunity to speak of.his life to many people who might not read the particulars of it elsewhere, and I was convinced that a subscription book would reach thousands of homes, which might not otherwise be influenced. They told me that my work as an evangelist made it fitting that I should write of him, who was known as the greatest evangelist of the generation.


I write because I loved him, and I felt that I might in this way pay tribute to the most consistent Christian man I have ever known. I am confident that there has not been in these latter days a man who was more truly filled with the Holy Ghost than he.

In view of all this my contract was made with the publishers and it was made before I knew what other books might be written, but even then I was assured by those who knew that my book had a field of its own, and could not be considered as in competition with any other for I would write from an entirely different standpoint.

This book is sent forth with the prayer that God may make it a blessing to its readers everywhere. It is my purpose, in using such facts as I may legitimately claim, to present Mr. Moody, not only in his early life, and tell the story of his conversion, but to present him as a public character, as a man of God, as a Prince among evangelists, and give to my readers such a view of him as may not be found in other books. He was a man of great faith in God, and of mighty power in life and in prayer; he was a devout student of the Bible, he was a great preacher, and he moved men as it has been given few men to do. He reached more people during his lifetime than any other man, possibly in the world's history. He was, in the judgement of a distinguished Scotch Christian, the greatest educator of his day. He had a victorious life, and a triumphant death. It is the purpose of this book to give a review of all this, in as personal and practical a way as possible.

Letters have been written me by many of his old friends, giving me even a better knowledge of him than my more than twenty years' acquaintance could afford.

So I write with pleasure, and thanking God that it is my privilege. He was the best friend I have ever known, and whether I think of him as a preacher, and a great leader of men, or just as a humble follower of God, in his home as I frequently saw him, he was the most thoroughly consecrated man, and the most Christ-like of any one I have ever known. Among those who rise up to call him blessed, I thank God I stand.

New York, January, 1900.


The Greatness of Mr. Moody by Henry Drummond - The Last of the Great Group by Newell D. Hillis - Moody as a Prophet by F.B. Meyer.
by Henry Drummond

WERE one asked what on the human side were the effective ingredients in Mr. Moody's sermons, one would find the answer difficult. Probably the foremost is the tremendous conviction with which they are uttered. Next to that are their point and direction. Every blow is straight from the shoulder and every stroke tells. Whatever canons they violate, whatever faults the critics may find with their art, their rhetoric, or even with their theology, as appeals to the people they do their work with extraordinary power.

If eloquence is measured by its effect upon an audience and not by its balanced sentences and cumulative periods, then there is eloquence of the highest order. In sheer persuasiveness, Mr. Moody's has few equals, and, rugged as his preaching may seem to some, there is in it a pathos of a quality which few orators have ever reached, and appealing tenderness which not only wholly redeems it, but raises it not unseldom almost to sublimity.

In largeness of heart, in breadth of view, in single-eyedness and humility, in teachableness and self-obliterations in sheer goodness and love, none can stand beside him.

by Newell Dwight Hillis

WHEN long time hath passed, some historian, recalling the great epochs and religious teachers of our century, will say, "There were four men sent forth by God; their names Charles Spurgeon, Phillips Brooks, Henry Ward Beecher and Dwight L. Moody." Each was a herald of good tidings; each was a prophet of a new social and religious order. God girded each of these prophets for his task, and taught him how to "dip his sword in Heaven."

In characterising the message of these men we say that Spurgeon was expositional, Phillips Brooks devotional, Henry Ward Beecher prophetic and philosophical, while Dwight L. Moody was a herald rather than teacher, addressing himself to the common people - the unchurched multitudes. The symbol of the great English preacher is a lighted lamp, the symbol of Brooks a flaming heart, the symbol of Beecher an orchestra of many instruments, while Mr. Moody was a trumpet, sounding the advance, sometimes through inspiration and sometimes through alarm.

The first three were commanders, each over his regiment, and worked from fixed centre, but the evangelist was the leader of a flying band who went everywhither into the enemy's country, seeking conquests of peace and righteousness. Be the reasons what they may, the common people gladly heard the great evangelist.

by Rev. F. B. Meyer, B. A.

GOD'S best gifts to man are men. He is always sending forth men. When the time is ripe for a man, God sends him forth. When for a moment the race seems to be halting in its true progress, then, probably from the ranks of the common people, rises he who leads a new advance. "There came a man sent from God." Yes, God constantly sends men. But the greatest gift is a prophet.

When New Testament times dawned the touch of the priest had lost its power forever but around those times prophets have power gathered - John the Baptist, Savonarola, Luther, Latimer, White-field, Wesley, Spurgeon, and it is not fulsome flattery which includes the name of Moody.


A prophet is one who sees God's truth by a distinct vision; who speaks as one upon whose eyeballs has burned the Light of the Eternal, and, thus speaking, compels the crowd to listen; he is one whose strong, elevated character is a witness to the truth in which he believes and which he declares. These are the three necessary conditions of a prophet. It matters not in what diction he speaks, whether in the rough, unpolished tongue of the people, or in the choice, well-balanced language of the schools. A man who possesses those three qualities is a prophet, and has a mission from God. Such a one was Moody.

There were certain traits in the prophets and in John the Baptist which we recognize also for the most part in Moody. For instance, the prophet generally rises from the ranks of the people. Again and again from the common people have been supplied the leaders of men. Those in the upper grades of society, from whom we should naturally expect the most, would seem very largely to have worn themselves out with luxury and self-indulgences. History is full of the stories of prophets who came from a lowly stock. And Moody was the child of humble New England parents. His father died early, and Moody's boyhood was spent face to face with privation. He had to fight his way from the ranks of the people. We have to thank this fact for the strong common sense which distinguished him. Moody had the practical insight to humor which belong especially to those who toil upon the land. And this man, with his close relationship to the life of the people, came to be able to hold ten thousand of them spellbound in the grasp of his powerful influence.


Again, it will generally be found that a prophet is not learned in the teaching of the schools. John the Baptist received his college education in the desert, amid the elements of Nature. These were his great kindergarten, in which his soul was prepared for its great work. When men go to the conventional colleges they learn to measure their language with the nicest accurateness. Was Moody's lack in this and in similar directions a loss to him? Nay, he was taught of God's Spirit. He bathed himself in a book, in that one volume which is in itself a library, the intimate knowledge of which is alone sufficient to make men cultured.

There is often a brusqueness about the prophet. We see that in John the Baptist. He was not a man to be found in king's courts. Without veneer, brusque, gaunt, strong, he lived and laboured. Moody partook the same characteristics. It is not unlikely, however, that he assumed a certain attitude of brusqueness because he felt afraid of being made an idol of the people. Having seen the evils of popularity, he wished to avoid them. To timid, friendless women, to individual sinners, he was wonderfully gentle and kind in manner. Amongst his grandchildren, whose simple playmate he became, he was tenderness itself. The brusqueness belonged only to the rind, to the character which had known deep experiences.

Moody had very distinct experiences. The manner of his conversion led him to expect immediate decisions in the souls of others. Under his Sunday school teacher's influence he had been led on the moment to give himself to Christ, and he looked for others to do nothing less, nothing more tardy.


Again, the prophet has known a touch of fire. Mr. Moody once told me that a number of poor women in Chicago who heard him speak said one day, "You are good; but there is something you have not got; we are praying that it may come. Later, one afternoon in New York, he was walking along, when an irresistible impulse came upon him to be alone. He looked around. Where could he go? What was to be done? He remembered a friend living not far away. So into his house he rushed, and demanded a room where he could be alone. There he remained several hours, and there he received the baptism of the Holy Ghost. When he returned to Chicago and began to speak, the godly women who had spoken to him beforetime said, "You have it now." And the wonderful power which Moody henceforward exercised over his fellow-men he owed to that touch of fire. It never left him. People were attracted. What happened when he visited England, happened wherever he went. The prophet had the real ring about him. He dealt with things as they are.

There was genuine greatness of heart in Mr. Moody, and it constantly triumphed over sect differences. When his mother died three years ago the Roman Catholics of the neighborhood asked that they might be pallbearers.

A prophet, of course, has his message. His office is not so much that of teacher or preacher as of herald. He sounds the alarm and cries "fire." With Moody it was not repentance because of hell-fire. The love of God was his proclamation. And how he could speak about that! I have seen him break down, as with trembling voice and tears in his eyes he pleaded with men for the love of God's sake to be reconciled with Him. A prophet is humble. In this respect Moody was true to the type. He seemed the one person who did not know there was a Moody. He did not know half so much about himself as the newspapers told. This is true greatness.

And now he has gone. My world is very much thinner. A great tree has fallen. One more throbbing voice is silent. Spurgeon is gone. Moody is gone. The voices are dying. Listen to-day to the voice of the Son of God.

Chapter 1

Early Acquaintance with Mr. Moody - A Most Profound - Influence - Master in Moving Men - The Power of God on His Work - The Last Picture of the Evangelist - Professor Drummond on Moody.

"I do not know whether I dare say what I am now about to speak to you. I asked a brother minister this afternoon, and he would not take the responsibility, but after thinking it over I will say it. I believe if Christ had actually lived in the body of our dear brother and had been subject to the same limitations that met him, he would have filled up his life much as D. L. Moody filled up his, and for that reason I say, after the most careful thought, I had rather be D.L. Moody lying dead in his coffin than to be the greatest man alive in the world to-day." This remarkable tribute was paid by Dr. H.G. Weston, of the Crozier Theological Seminary, Chester, Pa., and when he had finished it, there was a wave of sympathetic expression and approval which swept over the entire audience, and his remarkable utterance was greeted with quiet Amens and suppressed sobs.

I question if this generation has known a man who was more Christlike than D. L. Moody. That he sometimes made mistakes his best friends will allow, but that he was ready to undo these mistakes when they were made, and to make acknowledgment when that was necessary, all who knew him well will testify.


I have heard his name since infancy. First of all from my mother's lips when I was a child. For it was at that time his name was being spoken with approval by ministers and Christian workers, and also at that time that the newspapers were making frequent reference to his increasing usefulness and power.

I am naturally a hero worshipper. There are certain names that have always stirred me and certain personalities that have ever been my inspiration. No name, however, has ever been more sacred among the names of men than that of Moody, and no character has ever so taken hold of my very being, as his.

When first I felt called to preach the Gospel, I determined there were certain men whom I must hear. In my list of names I had Henry Ward Beecher, and I shall ever recall with grateful appreciation the opportunity of hearing him in the Plymouth Church when his text was: "Except your righteousness exceed the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees ye shall in no wise enter into the kingdom." And when his prayer reminded me of nothing so much as the running of a mountain stream over the rocks as it hurried on its way to the sea, I came away feeling that I had had a great privilege, not only in hearing Mr. Beecher preach, but in being lifted up to Heaven by his prayer.


The second name in importance on my list was that of Dr. John Hall, and possibly the deepest impression of my life was made, when he was preaching from the text in I Timothy iv:6: "Thou shalt be a good minister of Jesus Christ." He closed his sermon by leaning over the pulpit and saying, "I have only one supreme ambition, and that is that I might close my ministry here and have you say concerning me, "he was a good minister of the Gospel of Jesus Christ," and I came away saying that I had had such an uplift as rarely comes to a young minister.

Written in large letters on my list was the name of Charles H. Spurgeon, and it has ever been the regret of my ministry that before it was given to me to cross the sea, God had called him to cross over into the better land.

But of all the names written, none stood out so plainly as that of D. L. Moody. I had somehow made up my mind from what I had heard of him, and from what the newspapers had printed of his work, that he was to move me more mightily than any other man in the world, and I bear glad testimony to the fact that the after-years proved my expectation to be true. He exercised the most profound influence over me from the very first moment I met him, an influence which only increased with the passing years, and still abides, although he is in the presence of his God.


In the providence of God I was frequently with him in services; notably, at the World's Fair Meetings in Chicago, when he was not only the genial host of the workers with whom he was surrounded, but was the leader of a great force of Christian ministers and laymen, commanding the city for God with as great genius as ever an officer commanded and led his soldiers against the enemy on the field of battle.

He invited me to be with him in Pittsburg in 1898, and one of the most tender memories of my life is that which I have of him in connection with the meetings held in the Exposition Building.

I saw him in frequent conferences when I was pastor in Philadelphia, when his great heart yearned over the cities in the East, much as did the heart of the Master when looking down upon the City of his love, he said, "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem!"

I was with him in the special campaign in New York, when from early morning till late at night in the Grand Central Palace, he not only preached himself, but had called to his assistance workers and friends from many other cities.

It was my great privilege to be frequently at Northfleld where Mr. Moody showed not only his great heart, but his great power as a leader as in no other place in the country, and intimately as I knew him, and devotedly as I loved him, I never came in contact with him that my heart did not beat a little faster and my pulses throb a little more quickly.


I used to love to watch him in the meetings he conducted. His eyes were always open to take in the most minute detail of the services, and things to which other men would be blind he was ever seeing. I frequently almost lost the message he was giving in my admiration for the messenger. While he was sitting in the first part of the service, he would make a dive into his pocket, take out a little piece of paper and write a message to some of his workers, put down an illustration or record something which was to be the seed thought for a future sermon. Sometimes you would scarcely think he was noticing what was going on, and suddenly he would be on his feet announcing a hymn, and while he could not sing himself, yet he was superb in his power to make other people sing, "Isn't that magnificent" he would say, as voice after voice took up the great chorus. "Now the galleries sing, that is my choir up in the gallery, now show the people what you can do; now the men, now the women, now altogether," until it would seem as if greater singing one had never heard in all his life.

He was ever on the alert in every service. I have heard him many times relate, however, one instance to the contrary, when George O. Barnes was being greatly used in evangelistic effort. Mr. Moody had taken him around to several appointments, and the evening service came so quickly upon them that they did not have time to eat anything except a hasty lunch which they took somewhere together, the principal article of which Mr. Moody said was bologna. When Mr. Barnes arose to speak in the evening, the room was very hot, and Mr. Moody said that that, together with the lunch he had taken, made him very drowsy; he pinched himself to keep awake, but at last he fell asleep. Mr. Barnes did every-thing he could to arouse him, and when he had failed he stopped preaching, and Mr. Moody said, turned to his audience to say, "This is the first time I have ever seen D.L. Moody defeated, but the devil and bologna sausage seem to have gotten the best of him." I have heard him tell it over and over. No one enjoyed a joke better than himself, even though he might be the subject of it.

He seemed to know what the people wanted and what they would take, and the things that other men would turn away from he would present with great power. I remember a meeting in Albany, New York, years ago, when short conferences were being held through the country by Mr. Moody and his co-workers, when he turned to Dr. Darling, then of Schenectady, now of Auburn Seminary, and said, "Doctor, tell them the story you told me this morning;" and then the distinguished preacher gave an illustration which he might have thought too simple to use in a crowded assemblage, but which swayed the great audience.


He was a master in moving men. I can shut my eyes now and see him, with tears rolling down his face, as he plead with men to turn to Christ; sobs breaking his utterance as he told of the love of God to men and of God's special love to himself. He was as sincere a man as ever stood on the platform to preach, and it was for this reason that people of all classes and grades believed in him. When the New York Dailies came out with great headlines saying, "Moody is dead," a Jew in one of the courts turned to a friend of mine to say, "He was a good man," and when his death was being discussed in one of the great clubs in the City of New York, a man who was an infidel said,"I think he was the best man this generation has known, and if I should ever be a Christian I should want to be one just like Moody, if I could."

There were times when he was more than eloquent, when every gesture was a sermon. Who can ever forget his description of Elijah going up by a whirlwind into heaven. When carried away by the power of his own emotions, he lifted his hands while his audience seemed to be lifted with him, and raising them higher and higher, I can hear him say the words,"Up, up, up' I can see Elijah going, and I see heaven open to receive him as he rises." The impression on his audience was profound.


To have known him at all was a blessing, but to have known him with any degree of intimacy was one of the rarest privileges of a minister's life. I would not say that I knew him better than other men, for hundreds knew him far more intimately and for a far longer time than I; but if love, since I have known him, can make up for the years in which I was not acquainted with him, then these recent years with their increasing admiration and love will give me the right to speak and write. Dr. Pierson says concerning George Muller, "A human life filled with the presence and power of God, is one of God's choicest gifts to His church and to the world."

"Things which are unseen and eternal seem, to the carnal man, distant and indistinct, while what is seen and temporal is vivid and real. Practically, any object in nature that can be seen or felt is thus more real and actual to most men than the living God. Every man who walks with God, and finds Him a present help in every time of need; who puts His promises to the practical proof and verifies them in actual experience; every believer who with the key of faith unlocks God's mysteries, and with the key of prayer unlocks God's treasuries, thus furnishes to the race a demonstration and an illustration of the fact that 'He is a Rewarder of them that diligently seek Him.'


"George Muller was such an argument and example incarnated in human flesh. FIesh was a man of like passions as we are, and tempted in all points like as we are, but who believed God and was established by believing; who prayed earnestly that he might live a life and do a work which should be a convincing proof that God hears prayer and that it is safe to trust Him at all times; and who has furnished just such a witness as he desired Like Enoch, he truly walked with God, and had abundant testimony borne to him that he pleased God. And when, on the tenth day of March, 1898, it was told us of George Muller that 'he was not,' we knew God had taken him;' it seemed more like a translation than death," the same thing can be said of Mr. Moody. He used to say, "Sometime you will pick up a paper and will read of D.L. Moody's death; don't believe a word of it; I may be asleep, but I shall not be dead; death has no terror to me, and his words were a prophecy of his triumphant passing into the presence of God. The telegram written by Mr. A. P. Fitt, his son-in-law, to Mr. Louis Klopsch, of theChristian Herald,is a confirmation of this:


"Mr. Moody had a triumphant entry into Heaven at noon."

"As early as 8 o'clock, A.M. he said: 'Earth is receding and Heaven is opening. God is calling me."'

"He was perfectly conscious to the last, and showed the same courage and faith, unselfishness and thought for his wife and children and his schools as always."

"His doctor says it was 'a pure case of heart failure, due to absolute loss of bodily strength."'

"In leaving us he gave unflinching testimony to the truths he taught."

A. P. Fitt.


His was a wonderful life. In one of Tissot's pictures there is seen a great multitude of people lame and halt and blind in the way along which Jesus of Nazareth is to come, and then there is a view representing him passing, and as he moves along, only those before Him are sick, while all behind him are well. This was Mr. Moody's life. All that was behind him felt the touch of his power. The Chicago Bible Institute has become an object lesson to Christian workers everywhere. Northfield is a centre of influence forth from which streams of blessing flow to the very ends of the earth. England, Ireland and Scotland have felt the touch of his consecrated life, and millions of lives the world over thank God that he ever lived, those who were lame, halt and blind spiritually now leap and praise God that D.L. Moody ever lived.

His home life, in the testimony of those who knew it best, was most beautiful. On that memorable day when his body was lying in the casket in the Congregational Church in Northfield, when other speakers had paid their tribute to his distinguished father, Mr. William R. Moody, his eldest son, rose to say: "As a son I want to say a few words of him as a father. We have heard from his pastor, his associates and friends, and he was just as true a father. I don't think he showed up in any way better than when, on one or two occasions, in dealing with us as children, with his impulsive nature, he spoke rather sharply. We have known him to come to us and say: 'My children, my son, my daughter, I spoke quickly; I did wrong; I want you to forgive me. That was D.L. Moody as a father.

"He was not yearning to go; he loved his work. Life was very attractive; it seems as though on that early morning as he had one foot upon the threshold it was given him for our sake to give us a word of comfort. He said: 'This is bliss; it is like a trance. If this is death it is beautiful.' And his face lighted up as he mentioned those whom he saw.

"We could not call him back; we tried to for a moment, but we could not. We thank God for his home life, for his true life, and we thank God that he was our father, and that he led each one of his children to know Jesus Christ."


There was ever a holy atmosphere about this home to me in the few times I was permitted to pass its portals. Mr. Moody used to tell a story of a sick child whose father one day came into his room and to whom the child said, "lift me up," and the father lifted him gently, and he said"lift me higher," and he lifted him yet a little higher; "higher," said the child, faintly, and he lifted him just as high as his arms could reach, and when he took him down he was dead. "I believe," said Mr. Moody, "that he lifted him into the arms of Christ," and then his great kindly face glowed, and as the tears rolled down his cheeks he said,"I would rather have my children say that about me than to have a monument of gold that would pierce the clouds," and his home life clearly bore out the fact that he not only said this in words, but he put it into every action in his home. His personality was charming; he was the centre of every group everywhere. It was a most ordinary thing to see representative men from many parts of the world in his home, but none were ever so prominent as to dim the brightness of his greatness, and yet he was as modest as a woman and as humble as a little child. Who that ever sat about his table can forget his laugh. It was as hearty a laugh as one has ever heard. He knew just how to put every man at his best. His questions always brought forth that which would make a man appear to the best advantage before his hearers. "Morgan," he would say, speaking to the Rev. G. Campbell Morgan, "tell that story about Joseph Parker; " and then although he might have heard it before he was the most interested listener; his eyes would gleam and his face light up as the inimitable story teller painted the picture of London's greatest preacher.


He was so very thoughtful of other people. The last time I rode with him to Mt. Hermon, he stopped to talk a few minutes with the men at the old ferry, asked them about their homes and spoke a cheering word concerning their work, and said as he drove on, "I want them to know that I am interested in them."

Driving up from the station at the last students' conference at Northfield, he stopped every student trudging along with his baggage and took the bag into his buggy until it was piled up with luggage, and the greater the number of men whose burdens he lifted, the happier he became.

Walking across his lawn one day when his conversation was, as ever, the evangelising of the great cities, he turned quickly and said, "Chapman, how many children have you?" and when I told him two, as I had then, he turned quickly about and said "come with me," and he pointed out to me some white turkeys and some ducks of a very rare breed and said, "I will send a pair of these to the children," and when only a few days had elapsed, sure enough the turkeys and the ducks came safely to my country home, and my children took particular delight in feeding and caring for the ducks and turkeys that came from Mr. Moody's house.

Driving along the country road with Dr. Wilton Merle Smith, of New York, when the conversation had been general, he stopped his horse under the shade of a great tree, and, said Dr. Smith, "he poured out his soul in such prayer as I have rarely heard."


I shall ever remember one of his illustrations. He had told one of his children that he was not to be disturbed in his study, and after a little while the door of the study opened and the child came in. "What do you want," said the father, and the little fellow looking Up into his father's face said,"I just wanted to be with you," and the tears started into the great evangelist's eyes as he said, "it ought to be like that between us and our God." I can well understand how his little child would want to be with him every minute of his time, for there are many of us who counted it our special privilege to be in fellowship with this godly man.

The first time I saw him is a memorable day in my life. I was a student at Lake Forest University, and he was to speak in Chicago, I think it was in 1878. Four times he preached the Gospel that day and I was in every service; but the service of all services was that of the afternoon in old Farwell Hall; it was for men only. The place was filled to overflowing with men; the singing was superb, so said my friends, but I lost the power of the music in the sight of this man of God of whom I had heard so much. His text was, "Be not deceived, God is not mocked; whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." The sermon is remembered because, under God, it has been used to lead so many to Christ. Under the power of it I saw my own heart, and then I saw the Saviour who was waiting to make it clean. I halted around with others if only I might have the chance to touch his hand. Just in front of me went a man who held Mr. Moody's attention for a little time, and who said to him, as he afterwards told me, "I am a defaulter, I have taken money which is not my own, I am a fugitive from justice, what must I do?" And Mr. Moody told him he must take the money back, even though it meant punishment, and he did it; was sent to the penitentiary, was pardoned out just before he died of quick consumption.


Before the pardon Mr. Moody made his way across the country that he might stand in his cell, and as he entered, the young man sprang to his feet and putting his arms out to Mr. Moody said He has forgiven me, He has forgiven me." His evangelistic life was filled with just such incidents. In the evening of that great first day I saw him once again and followed him into the after meeting where I had the privilege of a moment's conversation. I had been in doubt for a long time on the subject of assurance. I did not know certainly whether I was a Christian or not, and Mr. Moody said, when I asked him to help me, "do you believe this verse?" and he quoted the Fifth Chapter of John and the 24th verse, "Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that heareth my word, and believeth on Him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation; but is passed from death unto life." I said, "certainly I believe it." "Are you saved," he said, and I said, sometimes I think I am, other times I feel I am not." He put. his hand on my shoulder and said but one sentence, and then he left me;"young man," said he, "whom are you doubting?" and then he left me, and it flashed across my mind in an instant that, in my lack of assurance, I was doubting Christ; from that moment to this I have never doubted.


The next impression was in connection with the brief conferences held throughout the country when five days were spent in Albany and Troy, and the meetings were held in the First Reformed Church of which I afterwards became pastor. I came down from my country church with many other ministers from different parts of the State. The great church was crowded; I was obliged to stand in the aisle, but I forgot all discomfort in the impression that was made upon me by this mighty man of God. I followed him from one city to another and then went back to my own church to preach to my people on the story of the Moody meetings. The power of God was not only on his work, but was on the very mention of it, so that my church officers came together and said that this work must go on, and more than a hundred people came to Christ because of it. In the day when rewards are given for service, I am very sure that my dear friend will share in the glory of these who came to Christ indirectly through his ministry.

When I became an evangelist his word was always the cheeriest; I never met him that he did not have some word to say concerning the work at large. If ever there was a perplexity in my mind, or any doubt as to what my course of action should be, in settling any problem, Mr. Moody was the first to give advice and always the wisest of all advisers. The last time I saw him was in Boston, in the days when Admiral Dewey was to be welcomed, to the New England Metropolis. He was there that the people might have the privilege of hearing Campbell Morgan. I heard him say, "some people think we ought to give the meetings up because of the excitement outside, but I believe," he said "that Christ is more attractive to the people than anything in all this world." The very morning of the parade when Mr. Morgan was obliged to be away and other speakers could not delay, some of his friends suggested that he at least give up this meeting. But he was never easily discouraged and he positively refused to yield in the least, and he preached himself with his old time vigour to a great company of people in Tremont Temple.


The last picture of him is drawn by the Hon. John Wanamaker. He was on his way to Kansas City, and, as Mr. Wanamaker said, he had turned away from his comfortable home and was going away into the far West, when he might have had all the rest of his home and help of his family, only for the joy of preaching the Gospel. Mr. Wanamaker met him at one of the railroad stations. It just so happened at this time that he was alone he purchased his own ticket, checked his baggage, then said, "we will have a little time now together," and they sat down in another railway station when Mr. Moody poured out his heart to his old friend concerning some of the interests that were dear to him, and then as they parted he said, with his face flushed and his eyes filled with tears, "if I could only get hold of one more Eastern city I should be grateful to God." These two friends said good-bye, the one to go into all the comforts of the presence of his loved ones, and the other to hurry away across the country that he might hold his last service, preach his last sermon, and then go from the very thick of the fight into the presence of his God.

D. L. Moody is dead. Men say it with sobs, and the old world seems lonely without him, but D.L. Moody is in heaven, we say it with thanksgiving, and we can just imagine the joy which rang through all the arches of the heavenly land when he entered in through the gates into the city. So is it strange that many can say the words of Dr. Weston with which this chapter began, "I would rather be D. L. Moody lying dead in his coffin than to be the greatest man alive in the world to-day."


In his day no one was closer to Mr. Moody, than Prof. Drummond, and a few years ago he said this of his friend: "Whether estimated by the moral qualities which go to the making up of a personal character, or the extent to which he has impressed these upon communities of men on both sides of the Atlantic, there is, perhaps, no more truly great man living than D.L. Moody. By moral influences in this connection, I mean the influence which, with whatever doctrinal accompaniment, leads men to better lives and higher ideals. I have never heard Mr. Moody defend any particular church. I have never heard him quoted as a theologian.

But I know of large numbers of men and women of all churches and creeds, of many countries and ranks, from the poorest to the richest, and from the most Ignorant to the most wise, upon whom he has placed an ineffaceable moral mark."

Chapter 2

Northfield Not a Modern Town - The First Settlers - The Second Settlement - After the Revolution - The House in Which Moody was Born - The Character of the Town.

It is pleasant to think that the privilege should have been given to Mr. Moody of absorbing his earlier training and of associating his later work with so charming a place naturally as Northfield. God's children are not denied the fair, the beautiful things of Nature. It is just like our Heavenly Father to give the best to one who walked so close to Him as did this dear friend.

Those of us who knew Mr. Moody well remember how he loved beautiful things. The song of the brook was music to his soul; the coming of the leaves and flowers of spring was a parable; and his own dear Northfield was beloved by him to the end. He was perfectly happy when driving about through the beauties of the surrounding country.

In view of his love for Nature, and the unusual beauty of his early environment, it is, perhaps, not surprising that the first doubts to assail the faith of the boy Moody, after his conversion, were pantheistic. He himself has related how a pantheist approached him and told him of God as Nature, and how it troubled him. But his doubts resolved themselves into a firmer belief in Nature, not as God, but as God's handiwork.


Its elms whisper a long story of days when men who sought to worship God in freedom of conscience martyred themselves by denial of the comforts of their homes in the old world and faced the terrors of bitter want and of crafty savage foes in the wildernesses of New England.

Long before this particular spot in the valley of the Connecticut was occupied by the white man, large tribes of Indians dwelt there, living upon the fruits of a generous lowland soil and the trophies of the chase.

The streams abounded in shad and salmon. The plenty of fish gave the place its Indian name, Squakheag, which signifies, in the Indian tongue, a place for spearing salmon. Wigwams clustered on nearly every knoll and bluff, and along the banks of the river ran the narrow trail of the aborigines.

A little way back from either side the river, and following its windings, extends a range of hills. Brush Mountain, one of these hills, was regarded by the Indians with a superstitious veneration, as the abode of their Great Spirit. Did not his breath come forth every spring, from a cleft in the rock, and melt the snow? To-day the traveller who climbs Brush Mountain will be shown an opening whence comes a blast of air, warm enough in the winter to keep the snow from accumulating in the immediate vicinity.


In 1669 'a small party of whites, following the trail along the Connecticut northward from Northampton, came upon the lands of the Squakheags. The natives had suffered severely a few years before from the raid of a large party of Mohawks, who had come from the West, laying waste their fields and destroying their villages. To the eyes of the white men the land seemed very fair. About Northampton the tillable soil had been quite completely taken up, and the Squakheag region seemed to offer a good situation for a new settlement. As the Indians were not unwilling to part with their lands, a petition was made to the General Court of Massachusetts by thirty-three settlers, for permission to purchase the land from the Indians. The permission was granted on the condition that not less than twenty families should settle there within eighteen months after the first move.

The settlers took up the land in 1673, and for two years lived in amicable relations with their Indian neighbours. Then, when King Philip's war broke out, the Squakheags were moved by the rude eloquence of the chief's emissaries to take part in the uprising. One morning they attacked the whites in the fields, killing many, and driving those who remained to seek refuge within the stockade. The position of the sixteen families in the fort was perilous. A relief expedition from Deerfield was ambushed while on the way, and fled home with great loss. Another company succeeded in reaching Northfield and rescuing the beleaguered ones, who left the settlement and returned to their former homes.


Not for seven years did the proprietors of the land take steps towards its re-occupation. Then about twenty families returned. Houses were built along a main street, and were protected by two forts, in 1688 eleven Indians, sent. on the warpath by the French in Canada, six persons in Northfield, and so alarmed the rest that more than one half left the settlement. 'This so weakened the town that it was abandoned by those who remained.

The final settlement was made in 1713, and Northfield now prospered, although in 1723 it was again exposed to attacks from savages, who had been incited to make depredations upon the New England villages by the French Governor of Canada. It is said that men were then able to harvest their crops only in armed parties of forty or more. A fort was built a few miles up the river, and a cannon was placed there, that its voice might give warning of the approaching enemy. Peace came after the death of the Governor of Canada.

The existence of the hamlet continued for a long time precarious, for it was an outpost among the settlements, and therefore especially exposed to danger from the savages. During the French and Indian War Northfleld was in constant terror. Thereafter such dangers gradually disappeared, and time was given to develop the natural resources of the place. Northfield sent her quota to take part in the War of the Revolution, nor did she hesitate to assert the principles of liberty, even to the extent of forcing her parson, against his first desire, to omit from his prayer the usual petition for blessing on"his majesty," the King of Great Britian.


After the war the town rapidly acquired a certain culture. A hotel building, erected in 1798, was purchased by a company of citizens in 1829, and made into an academy which did honourable service for education during many years. About this same time the town was deeply affected by the wave of Unitarianism, which was then spreading throughout New England. Schisms arose in the village church, and a new parish was formed.

Northfield lies where three States meet Massachusetts, New Hampshire and Vermont. Just south of the Massachusetts State line is the village, scattered for the most part along the main street, two miles long and 160 feet wide, on the east side of the river. On either side of the street is a double row of elms and maples, which have grown old with the village until they bend their lofty heads over the quiet roadway like the nodding guardians of some useless post. Savage neighbours arc no longer near to enforce in alert sentinelship.

Several roads cross this avenue, and all lead to scenes purely pastoral. Flanking the main street are dwellings, for the most part set well back among their lawns and fragrant gardens. These homes were built to last. They seem as substantial to-day as when they were built, although many of them are very old. The house occupied by Mr. William Alexander, for instance, has been in the hands of his family for one hundred and fifteen years. The present day tendency to flock to the large cities has somewhat affected the younger generation of Northfield's old families, but the elms and the old houses are still there to perpetuate the atmosphere of old New England days, and better than all this the town has been so sanctified by the labours of her own best-known son that she will be remembered as the home of good works long after pompous cities have crumbled.


Mr. Moody's birthplace is a plain, small farm-house, which still stands on the hillside. It looks upon one of the country roads, which winds up from the main street in an easterly direction. The building is two stories high, with green blinds, and is protected from the sun by stately trees. There is one tree, of especial majesty, under which Mr. Moody is said to have planned some of his greatest sermons.

The home in which Mr. Moody and his family were domiciled after his work had so broadened as to make necessary a larger house than the homestead, stands near the north end of the town, and is not far from his mother's house. It was purchased for about $3,000. A plain, roomy building it is. From time to time, as the requirements came up, Mr. Moody had additions built to the house, until it spread out its arms with a suggestion of hospitality most inviting to the visitor. The building fronts upon the main street. Mr. Moody's study is on the first floor, only a few steps within from the entrance. The atmosphere of the house, with its simple but substantial furniture, suggests the home of a man who desires to shape his environment to make it suit his work.


When Mr. Moody returned to Northfield after his evangelistic tour of Great Britain, he went home to Northfield to rest. With his eyes sharpened by travel, and with his usual alert observance of the needs of those about him, he conceived a plan of making possible education for girls who were born to the unstimulating routine of farm life. The germ of Northfield Seminary lay in this conception. In 1878 Mr. Moody purchased the first sixteen acres of land toward the two hundred and seventy acres which are now owned by the Seminary. Mr. H.N.F. Marshall, of Boston, was a guest of Mr. Moody at that time, and the decision to purchase the land was arrived at with the advantage of his advice. As he and Mr. Moody came to a decision, the owner of the land walked up the street. They invited him in, asked his price for the sixteen acres, paid the money, and had the papers made out before the owner had time to recover from his surprise.

Work was begun on the building the following year. It was intended to establish this school as a high-class seminary for girls. When it was opened in 1879, twenty-five pupils entered. At first they studied and recited at Mr. Moody's home, the first dormitory not being opened until 1880. Bonar Hall, the second dormitory, was burned a few years later, but Marquand Hall was opened in 1885. Other buildings have followed. At present the school possesses seven dormitories, a library, a gymnasium, a recitation hall and an auditorium.

The buildings have been erected with a view to artistic effect as well as adequate accommodations, and add much to the beauty of the situation. From the slopes of the school grounds, one looks up the river valley to the distant green hills of Vermont and New Hampshire, while the placid river meanders through fertile fields which show rich with the fruits of the farm. Well built roads wind through the grounds; shade trees and groups of shrubbery have been set out. Moreover, the land yields practical returns as a farm under the supervision of Mr. Moody's brother. Six horses and fifty head of cattle belong to this school farm, and from ten to fourteen men are constantly employed. The school now numbers about four hundred pupils, its graduates being admitted to Wellesley, Smith and other high - grade institutions.


When Mr. Moody was conducting his earliest mission work in Chicago, he laid close to his heart a plan to provide some day a school where boys could secure training in the elementary branches and the Bible. With this still in mind he purchased, in 1880, two farms of 115 acres each, with two farm-houses and barns. They were situated on what was known as Grass Hill, four miles from Northfield Seminary, and in the town of Gill. This school was incorporated as the Mt. Hermon School for Boys. The present buildings include five brick cottages, a large recitation hall, a dining hall and kitchen, Crossley Hall and Silliman Science Hall. This school now numbers about 400 students, and here as at the Seminary the industrial system is a prominent feature, but at Mt. Hermon nearly all of the work of the farm and house is done by the boys.

The auditorium of the Northfield Seminary was built in 1894 and was planned by Mr. Moody for the use of the summer conferences. It seats nearly 3,000 persons. A grove of white birches on a hillside back of the Seminary becomes, during the summer meetings "Camp Northfield", where young men spend their summer outing periods.

Henry Drummond describes somewhere his first astonishment at finding this little New England hamlet with a dozen of the finest educational buildings in America, and of his surprise when he stopped to think that all these buildings owed their existence to a man whose name is perhaps associated in the minds of three-fourths of his countrymen, not with education, but with the want of it.


The eastern part of the town has of late years become known as East Northfield, and has its separate Post Office and stores. New streets have been laid out and new houses have been built. Northfield, in fact, is coming to be known as a summer resort, but not of the usual type. Frivolous recreation gives way there to sane occupation and wholesome exercise. Intemperance, the use of tobacco, card playing and dancing have no place there; but the heart of nature is opened to those, who, with minds bent upon the best things, seek her reverently.

Northfield then is both a typical New England town and the result of the individual impression of one man's life. All that is best in American culture is there epitomised, and the elms and the hazy hills and the homes of by-gone generations are witnesses of the regenerating influences which can be brought into play through the devotion and singleness of purpose of one man.

Chapter 3

Mr. Moody's Early Life
The Death of His Father - Mrs. Moody's Struggle - Incidents from Moody's Early Days - His Rudimentary Education - Departure from Home - Looking for Work.

Dwight Lyman Moody was born in the town of Northfield, Mass., February 5. 1837. He was the sixth of seven sons who, with two daughters, made up the family of Edwin and Betsy Holton Moody. The father had acquired a little farmhouse and a few acres of stony ground on a hillside just without the limits of the town, but the whole was encumbered by mortgage. Mr. Moody worked as a stonemason when the opportunity was afforded, using his leisure time to till his farm. The burden of his responsibilities proved too heavy; reverses crushed his spirit; and, after an illness of only a few hours, he died suddenly at the age of forty-one years, when Dwight was only four years old, leaving a large family unprovided for.


Young as he was, the picture impressed on the boy's mind by this sudden upheaval of the household, consequent upon his father's death, remained vivid. He did not forget the desperate feeling which must have seized the family in that crisis; nor did he ever forget the wonderful fortitude with which his mother met the situation. Only a month after the death of the father two posthumous children were born - a boy and a girl. Neighbours advised Mrs. Moody not to face harsh conditions now confronting her. Keep your twin babies, but bind out your children, they urged. "It will be so long before they can be of any real service to you that their maintenance just now will be a greater burden than you should assume."

But Mrs. Moody was not the woman to be daunted by circumstances. The idea of separating from her children was not entertained. She took upon herself the task of snatching some tribute money from an unwilling soil, and of bringing up her children to wholesome manhood and womanhood - how well she succeeded is shown by the results.


One incident of this early period proved a severe blow to the bereaved family. The oldest son, upon whom the mother was planning to place considerable dependence, ran away from home. Mr. Moody in later years related this incident and its sequel in the following words:

"I can give you a little experience of my own family. Before I was four years old the first thing I remember was the death of my father. He had been unfortunate in business and failed. Soon after his death the creditors came in and took everything. My mother was left with a large family of children. One calamity after another swept over the entire household. Twins were added to the family, and my mother was taken sick. The eldest boy was fifteen years of age, and to him my mother looked as a stay in her calamity, but all at once that boy became a wanderer. He had been reading some of the trashy novels and the belief had seized him that he had only to go away to make a fortune. Away he went. I can remember how eagerly she used to look for tidings of that boy; how she used to send us to the post office to see if there was a letter from him, and recollect how we used to come back with the sad news, 'No letter.' I remember how in the evenings we used to sit beside her in that New England home, and we would talk about our father; but the moment the name of that boy was mentioned she would hush us into silence. Some nights when the wind was very high, and the house, which was upon a hill, would tremble at every gust, the voice of my mother was raised in prayer for that wanderer who had treated her so unkindly. I used to think she loved him more than all of us put together, and I believed she did. On a Thanksgiving day – you know that is a family day in New England – she used to set a chair for him, thinking he would return home.


"Her family grew up and her boys left home. When I got so that I could write, I sent letters all over the country, but could find no trace of him. One day, while in Boston, the news reached me that he had returned. While in that city, I remember how I used to look for him in every store – he had a mark on his face – but I never got any trace. One day while my mother was sitting at the door, a stranger was seen coming towards the house, and when he came to the door he stopped. My mother didn't know her boy. He stood there with folded arms and a great beard flowing down his breast, his tears trickling down his face. When my mother saw those tears she cried, 'Oh, it is my lost son,' and entreated him to come in. But he stood still. 'No, mother,' he said, 'I will not come in until I hear first that you have forgiven me.' Do you believe she was not willing to forgive him? Do you think she was likely to keep him standing there. She rushed to the threshold, threw her arms around him and breathed forgiveness."

The Moody family were Unitarians. Dwight had early advantages of Christian training, attending, as soon as he was old enough, the church in the village, where the Rev. Mr. Everett was pastor. In his interest in the efforts of Mrs. Moody to earn a livelihood for her family, Mr. Everett once took Dwight into his family for a time, in order that he might attend school, making return for this privilege by running errands and doing chores. It may seem strange that a Unitarian training should have fostered a temperament which afterward became, in its expression, so purely evangelical. By way of explanation, it is said, that Mr. Everett was not one of those who questioned the divinity of our Saviour. Unorthodoxy had not as yet affected this church. The Bible as the Word of God, Jesus as the Son of God, the Church and its Sacraments - these were accepted beliefs of this country pastor.

Dwight also had the benefits of religious training in the home. Mrs. Moody early taught her children to learn passages of Scripture and verses of hymns. These she would recite at her frugal table, and the children would repeat them after her.


When Dwight was about six years old, an old rail fence one day fell upon him. He could not lift the heavy rails. Exhausted by his efforts, he had almost given up. "Then," as he afterward told the story, "I happened to think that maybe God would help me, and so I asked Him; and after that I could lift the rails,"

Another incident, which Mr. Moody has related, seems to have made so profound an impression upon his youthful mind that its influence in preparing his heart for the Gospel message cannot have been slight. He himself has related the story in these words:

"When I was a young boy - before I was a Christian - I was in a field one day with a man who was hoeing. He was weeping, and he told me a strange story, which I have never forgotten. When he left home his mother gave him this text 'Seek first the kingdom of God.' But he paid no heed to it. He said when he got settled in life, and his ambition to get money was gratified, it would be time enough then to seek the kingdom of God. He went from one village to another and got nothing to do. When Sunday came he went into a village church, and what was his great surprise to hear the minister give out the text, 'Seek first the kingdom of God' He said the text went down to the bottom of his heart. He thought it was but his mother's prayer following him, and that some one must have written to that minister about him. He felt very uncomfortable, and when the meeting was over he could not get that sermon out of his mind.


"He went away from that town, and at the end of a week went into another church, and he heard the minister give out the same text, 'Seek first the kingdom of God.' He felt sure this time that it was the prayers of his mother, but he said calmly and deliberately, 'No, I will first get wealthy.' He said he went on and did not go into a church for a few months, but the first place of worship he went into he heard a minister preaching a sermon from the same text. He tried to drown - to stifle his feelings; tried to get the sermon out of his mind, and resolved that he would keep away from 'church altogether, and for a few years he did keep out of God's house. 'My mother died,' he said, and the text kept coming up in my mind, and I said I will try and become a Christian.' 'The tears rolled down his cheeks, as he said, 'I could not; no sermon ever touched me; my heart is as hard as that stone,' pointing to one in the field. I couldn't understand what it was all about - it was fresh to me then. I went to Boston and got converted, and the first thought that came to me was about this man. When I got back I asked mother, Is Mr. L ----- living in such a place?' 'Didn't I write to you about him?' she asked. They have taken him to an insane asylum, and to every one who goes there he points with his finger up there and tells them to seek first the kingdom of God.' There was that man with his eyes dull with the loss of reason, but the text had sunk into his soul - it had burned down deep. O, may the Spirit of God burn the text into your hearts to-night, When I got home again my mother told me he was in his house, and I went to see him. I found him in a rocking chair, with that vacant, idiotic look upon him. As soon as he saw me, he pointed at me and said 'Young man, seek first the kingdom of God.' Reason was gone but the text was there. Last month, when I was laying my brother down in his grave, I could not help thinking of that poor man who was lying so near him, and wishing that the prayer of his mother had been heard, and that he had found the kingdom of God."

It is doubtful, however, if young Moody had experienced any real religious feeling up to the time of his conversion in Boston. He was a boy like other boys - unlike the majority, too, in his imperious will, his indifference to obstacles, his boundless energy. He was as fond of mischief as the average boy. The influences of a farm-boy's life, tempered though they were by the forceful direction of a devoted mother, were not calculated to cultivate in him a taste for the finer things of life. His passionate outbursts of temper are still remembered by those who early came into contact with him. His profanity is a matter of his own record. Still, he was doubtless in this regard merely a type of his environment. The notable thing about the boy was his force; he bore in his endowment great possibilities for good or ill.


Perhaps only twelve terms at the district school constituted Dwight's early education. A smattering of the three R's" a little geography, and the practice of declamation made up the sum of his learning. The truth of the matter seems to be that he did not study faithfully. It was only during his last term that he began to apply himself with diligence, too late to make tip for what he had lost. His reading is described as outlandish beyond description. With his characteristic tendency to jump directly to the heart of a question, he never stopped to spell out an unfamiliar word, but mouthed his sense of it without full dependence upon his training or made up a new word which sounded to his ear as suitable as the original.

Of his experiences as a schoolboy Mr. Moody has given the following in his sermon on"Law versus Grace":


"At the school I used to go to when I was a boy, we had a teacher who believed in governing by law. He used to keep a rattan in his desk, and my back tingles now [shrugging his shoulders] as I think of it. But after a while the notion got abroad among the people that a school might be governed by love, and the district was divided into what I might call the law party, and the grace party; the law party standing by the old schoolmaster, with his rattan, and the grace party wanting a teacher who could get along without punishing so much.

"After a while the grace party got the upper hand, turned out the old master, and hired a young lady to take his place. We all understood that there was to be no rattan that winter, and we looked forward to having the jolliest kind of a time. On the first morning the new teacher, whom I will call Miss Grace, opened the school with reading out of the Bible and prayer. That was a new thing and we didn't quite know what to make of it. She told us she didn't mean to keep Order by punishment, but she hoped we would all be good children, for her sake as well as our own. This made us a little ashamed of the mischief we had meant to do, and everything went on pretty well for a few days; but pretty soon I broke one of the rules, and Miss Grace said I was to stop that night after school. Now for the Old rattan, said I to myself; it's coming now after all. But when the scholars were all gone she came and sat down by me, and told me how sorry she was that I, who was one of the biggest boys, and might help her so much, was setting such a bad example to others, and making it so hard for her to get along with them. She said she loved us, and wanted to help us, and if we loved her we would obey her, and then everything would go on well. There were tears in her eyes as she said this, and I didn't know what to make of it, for no teacher had ever talked that way to me before. I began to feel ashamed of myself for being so mean to any one who was so kind; and after that she didn't have any more trouble with me, nor with any of the other scholars either. She just took us out from under the Law and put us under Grace."


The circumstances which led up to the departure of young Moody from home have been variously stated. He had come to the age of seventeen. In those days a boy of seventeen was supposed to be ready to enter upon the serious business of life. New ambitions were arising in Dwight's heart. Mr. Edward Kimball, who afterwards led the boy to the Lord, is perhaps as well informed of the circumstances of his life in Boston as any man now living. He gave the facts as he was familiar with them at the time of Mr. Moody's death.

"To tell the story correctly," said Mr. Kimball, "I must go back to Thanksgiving day forty-five years ago. A Thanksgiving family dinner party was assembled at the Moody home, which was on a farm a mile and a half from Northfield, Mass. At the table, among others, were Samuel and Lemuel Holton, of Boston, two uncles of the Moody children. Without any preliminary warning young Dwight, a boy of about seventeen, spoke up and said to his uncle Samuel: "Uncle, I want to come to Boston and have a place in your shoe store. Will you take me?"Despite the directness of the question, the uncle returned to Boston without giving his nephew an answer. When Mr. Holton asked advice in the matter from an older brother of Dwight, the brother told his uncle that perhaps he had better not take the boy, for in a short time Dwight would want to run his store.

"Dwight was a headh5 young fellow who would not study at school, and who was much fonder of a practical joke than he was of his books. His expressed desire to go to Boston and get work was not a jest that the boy forgot the day after Thanksgiving. The two uncles were surprised when one day in the following spring Dwight turned up in Boston looking for a job. His uncle Samuel did not offer him a place. Dwight, when asked how he thought he could get a start, said he wanted work and he guessed he could find a position. After days of efforts, and meeting nothing but failures the boy grew discouraged with Boston, and told his uncle Lemuel he was going to New York. The uncle strongly advised Dwight not to go, but to speak to his uncle Samuel again about the matter. The boy demurred, saying his uncle Samuel knew perfectly well what he wanted. But the uncle insisted so that a second time the boy asked his uncle Samuel for a place in his store.

"Dwight, I am afraid if you come in here you will want to run the store yourself," said Mr. Holton. "Now, my men here want to do their work as I want it done. If you want to come in here and do the best you can, and do it right, and if you'll ask me when you don't know how to do anything, or if I am not here, ask the bookkeeper, and if he's not here one of the salesmen or one of the boys, and if you are willing to go to church and Sunday school when you are able to go anywhere on Sundays, and if you are willing not to go anywhere at night or any other time which you would not want me or your mother to know about, why, then, if you'll promise all these things, you may come and take hold, and we'll see how we can get along. You can have till Monday to think it over.'

I don't want till Monday,' said Dwight; I'll promise now. And young Moody began to work in his uncle's shoe store.

A remark the boy's uncle made to me afterward will give an idea of the young man's lack of education at this time. The uncle said that when Dwight read his Bible out loud he couldn't make anything more out of it than he could out of the chattering of a lot of blackbirds. Many of the words were so far beyond the boy that he left them out entirely when he read and the majority of the others he mangled fearfully."

Chapter 4

His Mother
A Picture Never To Be Forgotten - His Mother's Blessing - Her Puritan Ancestry - Her Conversion - D. L. Moody's Tribute to His Mother - Verses She Had Marked.

Devotion to his mother was a duty and a privilege second only to devotion to his God, in the mind of Mr. Moody. When at home in Northfield, he never failed to look in upon his mother in her cottage early every morning, to give her a hearty greeting, and to see that she was provided with every comfort and many luxuries.

When away, no matter how many times a day he preached, nor how many informal meetings he personally conducted, a letter was posted to his mother at frequent intervals in which she was told at length of the success of the meetings.


During the last years of her life, when failing health prevented her from attending public worship, the devoted son never forgot tile aged mother, and he often arranged for her to hear the noted speakers and singers of the conferences.

There is one picture associated with Northfield I can never forget It had to do with one of the summer conferences. Some one had been asking about Mr. Moody's mother, and he had spoken to a few of those who gathered about him and said, "We might have a little service just at her house on the lawn, for she is not able to be out;"and so a number of distinguished Christian workers gathered just outside her window, sang the hymn she loved, prayed Gods special blessing upon her and her distinguished son, and then one after the other spoke some word of appreciation of their visit to Northfield. I was standing just by Mr. Moody's side, and I heard him say to one of his friends, "I always thought she. had such a beautiful face," and as he looked at her the tears started in his own eyes, rolled down his cheeks, and he said with much emotion to a distinguished English Christian standing by his side, " I think she has been the best mother in the world."


Once again when many young men were gathered from all over the eastern part of our country in the World's Students' Conference, Mr. Moody said:

"You know my mother is an old lady. She is too feeble to attend these meetings. She is deeply interested in this work, and she has prayed earnestly for its success. I want her to hear some of you speak and sing. We are going up the mountain this afternoon to pray for the baptism of the Holy Spirit. Meet me at my house at three o'clock. We will have a little service there and then I want you to go on to my mother's home, and I want some of you to speak, and we will all sing.

"I want you to receive my mother's blessing before we go to the mountains to pray, for next to the blessing of God I place that of my mother."

The three hundred anxious pilgrims who gathered on Mr. Moody's spacious lawn that afternoon, and who, after a brief service of song and prayer, journeyed on to the mother's cottage and later to the mountain top, presented a picture never to be forgotten by the members of that company.

Much that is here written is his own words concerning her. I have an Old mother away down in the Connecticut Mountains," Mr. Moody used to say,"and I have been in the habit of going to see her ever year for twenty years. Suppose I go there and say, 'Mother, you were very kind to me when I was young-- you were very good to me; when father died you worked hard for us all to keep us together, and so I have come to see you, because it is my duty. Then she would say to me, 'Well, my son, if you only come to see me, because it is your duty, you need not come again. And that is the way with a great many servants of God. They work for Him, because it is their duty - not for love. Let us abolish this word duty, and feel that it is only a privilege to work for God, and let us try to remember that what is done merely from a sense of duty is not acceptable to God."

And so it was. Year after year, in the very heat of those spiritual campaigns which brought him prominently before the people of the two continents, Mr. Moody would slip away regularly to the spot where, amid the serene surroundings of the Northfield hills, his mother sat with her thoughts upon him and his work, praising God who had permitted her boy to become the instrument of so much blessing.


Betsey Holton, the mother of Dwight L. Moody, was a descendant in the fifth generation of William Holton, one of the first settlers of Northfield. In fact, this ancestor was one of that committee of the General Council of Massachusetts which laid out the plantation of Northfield, after it had been purchased from the Indians in 1673. The marriage of Betsey Holton to Edwin Moody united two strains of old Puritan blood. Doubtless this lineage accounts in no slight degree for the restless energy and dogged earnestness of the son, Dwight.

"I always thought that Dwight would be one thing or the other," the dear old woman once remarked. Where others had failed to see, she had early recognised the hardiness of the boy's character, - hardiness which she must have seen through its very kinship with her own. For her schooling had not been easy. Left a widow with nine children, a small house, and an acre or so of heavily mortgaged land, she had taken upon her womanly shoulders the full responsibility of bringing up her family. Tilling the ground, and doing odd jobs for the neighbours, she continued to scrape together enough to keep her children fed and clothed, although the margin between plenty and want was frequently so slim as to bar out comfort. There were times when no food seemed forthcoming; but a Providence whose care extends even to the sparrows did not permit the burden to become too heavy for this widowed mother, although her resources were often taxed to the utmost.


Every day she taught the children a little Bible lesson, and on Sundays accompanied them to the Unitarian Sunday school. They were sent, too, to the village school. Dwight was as loth as the average young boy to endure the discipline of the school-room. It is not hard to picture him"with shining morning face, creeping like snail unwillingly to school." But the wise mother knew. Seeds were being scattered in the fertile heart and mind of the boy: and if they did not seem to sprout at once, perhaps it was for the very reason that they had not been sown in a shallow soil.

The Rev. Dr. Theodore Cuyler, when he first met Mrs. Moody, turned to her son, and said,"I see now where you got your vim and your hard sense!" Others remarked the same resemblance of the son to his mother. I speak of this merely to make it evident how much he owed her.

However completely she came into sympathy with her son's work in later years, at the outset of his labours his mother did not give him her sanction. She herself was a member of a non-evangelical church. For a long time she did not even hear her son preach. How he finally not only convinced her of his fitness for his work, but also became the means of leading her into the higher life has been related by a close friend of the family in the following words


In 1875 he returned to his home in Northfield to preach, shortly after coining back to America from one or his great London successes. The family still lived on the Old farm, and still drove to town to Sunday meeting in the Old farm wagon, just as they used to in the days gone by. Most of the members of the family Were going to drive to town that morning to hear Dwight preach. The mother startled a daughter by saying to her:

"I don't suppose there would be room in the wagon for me this Morning, would there? "

No one had ever thought of the mother unbending and going to hear her son.

"Of course there will be room, mother," said the daughter.

And the mother was taken down to the church with the rest. Mr. Moody preached from the fifty - first Psalm, and preached with a fervor that was probably inspired by the presence of his mother. When those who wished prayer were asked to arise, old Mrs. Moody stood up.

The son was completely overcome, and, turning to B. F. Jacobs, now of Chicago, said with emotion, "You pray, Jacobs, I can't. "

When he returned to Northfield after some evangelical tour, Mr. Moody would invariably drive directly to see his mother, to receive her welcome, even before joining his immediate family. Sitting in her sunny room the kindly, keen, Old lady would give to her son kernels of sound wisdom with the blessing of her approval.

She was permitted to remain in this world until her ninety-first year. When at the last she began to sink, it was not thought by those about her that there was any immediate danger, and Mr. Moody, who was at the time conducting services in a distant city, was not informed as to the state of her health. But toward the close of a week of meetings the evangelist grew restless. He felt a strange intuition that his presence was needed at home, and, for no other reason, he cancelled his engagement and started for Northfield. He arrived in time to receive her blessing.

At his mother's funeral, acting upon an impulse, Mr. Moody delivered a touching tribute to her memory. Mrs. William R. Moody had concluded her song "Crossing the Bar," when the evangelist rose from his place with the family, and, bearing in his hands the old family Bible, and a worn book of devotions, came forward. Standing by the body of his mother, he said:


"It is not the custom, perhaps, for a son to take part in such an occasion. If I can control myself I would like to say a few words. It is a great honor to be the son of such a mother. I do not know where to begin; I could not praise her enough. In the first place my mother was a very wise woman. In one sense she was wiser than Solomon' she knew how to bring up her children. She had nine children and they all loved their home. She won their hearts, their affections, she could do anything with them.

"Whenever I wanted real sound counsel I used to go to my mother. I have travelled a good deal and seen a good many mothers, but I never saw one who had such tact as she had. She so bound her children to her that it was a great calamity to have to leave home. I had two brothers that lived in Kansas and died there. Their great longing was to get back to their mother. My brother who died in Kansas a short time ago had been looking over the Greenfield papers for some time to see if he could not buy a farm in this locality. He had a good farm there, but he was never satisfied; he wanted to get back to mother. That is the way she won them to herself. I have heard something within the last forty-eight hours that nearly broke my heart. I merely mention it to show what a character she was. My eldest sister, her oldest daughter, told me that the first year after my father died she wept herself to sleep every night. Yet, she was always bright and cheerful in the presence of her children, and they never knew anything about it. Her sorrows drove her to Him, and in her own room , after we were asleep, I would wake up and hear her praying, and sometimes I would hear her weeping. She would be sure her children were all asleep before she would pour out her tears.


"And there was another thing remarkable about my mother. If she loved one child more than another, no one ever found it out. Isaiah, he was her first boy; she could not get along without Isaiah. And Cornelia, she was her first girl; she could not get along without Cornelia, for she had to take care of the twins. And George, she couldn't live without George. What could she ever have done without George? He staid right by her through thick and thin. She couldn't live without George. And Edwin, he bore the name of her husband. And Dwight, I don't know what she thought of him. And Luther, he was the dearest of all, because he had to go away to live. He was always homesick to get back to mother. And Warren, he was the youngest when father died; it seemed as if he was dearer than all the rest. And Sam and Lizzie, the twins, they were the light of her great sorrow.

She never complained of her children. It is a great thing to have such a mother, and I feel like standing up here to-day to praise her. And just here I want to say before I forget it, you don't know how she appreciated the kindness which was shown her in those days of early struggle. Sometimes I would come home and say, such a man did so and so, and she would say, "Don't say that, Dwight; he was kind to me"


My father died a bankrupt, and the creditors came and swept everything we had. They took everything, even the kindling wood; and there came on a snowstorm, and the next morning mother said we would have to stay in bed until school-time, because there was no wood to make a fire. Then, all at once, I heard some one chopping wood, and it was my Uncle Sam. I tell you I have always had a warm heart for that uncle for that act. And that night there came the biggest load of wood I ever saw in my life. It took two yoke of oxen to draw it. It was that uncle that brought it. That act followed me all through life, and a good many acts, in fact. Mr. Everett, the pastor of the Unitarian Church, I remember how kind he was in those days. I want to testify to-day how my mother appreciated that.

"I remember the first thing I did to earn money was to turn the neighbour's cows up on Strowbridge Mountain. I got a cent a week for it. I never thought of spending it on myself. It was to go to mother. It went into the common treasury. And I remember when George got work we asked who was going to mill the cows. Mother said she would milk. She also made our clothes and wove the cloth, and spun the yarn, and darned our stockings and there was never any complaining.

I thought so much of my mother I cannot say half enough. That dear face! There was no sweeter face on earth. Fifty years I have been coming back and was always glad to get back. When I got within fifty miles of home I always grew restless and walked up and down the car. It seemed to me as if the train would never get to Northfield. For sixty-eight years she has lived on that hill, and when I came back after dark, I always looked to see the light in mother's window.


When I got home last Sunday night I was going to take the four o'clock train from New York and get here at twelve I had some business to do; but I suppose it was the good Lord that sent me; I took the twelve o'clock train and got here at five - I went in to my mother. I was so glad I got back in time to be recognised. I said, 'Mother, do you know me? She said, 'I guess I do.' I like that word, that Yankee word 'guess. 'The children were all with her when she was taking her departure. At last I called, Mother, mother. No answer. She had fallen asleep; but I shall call her again by-and-by. Friends, it is not a time of morning. I want you to understand we do not mourn. We are proud that we had such a mother. We have a wonderful legacy left us.

One day mother sent for me. I went to see what she wanted, and she said she wanted to divide her things. I said, 'Well, mother, we don't want anything you've got; we want you. We have got you, and that's all we want.' 'Yes, but I want to do something.' I said to her, 'Then write out what you want, and I will carry it out.' That didn't satisfy her. Finally she said, Dwight, I want them all to have something.' That was my mother, and that was the way she bound us to her.

"Now, I have brought the old Bible, the family Bible, for it all came from that book. That is about the only book we had in the house when father died, and out of the book she taught us. And if my mother has been a blessing to this world, it is because she drank at this fountain. I have read twice at family worship, and will read here a few verses which she has marked.


"'Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies. The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her.'

"She has been a widow for fifty-four years, and yet she loved her husband the day she died as much as she ever did. I never heard one word, and she never taught her children to do anything but just reverence our father. She loved him right up to the last.

"'She seeketh wool and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands.'

"That is my mother.

"She considereth a field and buyeth it; with the fruit of her hands she planteth a vineyard. She girdeth her loins with strength and strengtheneth her arms. She perceiveth that her merchandise is good, her candle goeth not out by night.'

Widow Moody's light had burned on that hill for fifty-four years, in that one room. We built a room for her, where she could be more comfortable, but she was not often there. There was just one room where she wanted to be. Her children were born there, her first sorrow came there, and that was where God had met her. That is the place she liked to stay, where her children liked to meet her, where she worked and toiled and wept.

"'She stretcheth out her hands to the poor; yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy.'

"Now, there is one thing about my mother, she never turned away any poor from her home. There was one time we got down to less than a loaf of bread. Some one came along hungry, and she says, 'Now, children, shall I cut your slices a little thinner and give some to this person?' And we all voted for her to do it. That is the way she taught us.

"'She is not afraid of the snow for her household; for all her household are clothed with scarlet.'

"She would let the neighbours' boys in all over the house, and track in snow; and when there was going to be a party she would say, 'Who will stay with me? I will be all alone; why don't you ask them to come here?' In that way she kept them all at home, and knew where her children were. The door was never locked at night until she knew they were all in bed, safe and secure. Nothing was too hard for her if she could only spare her children.


"The seven boys were like Hannibal, whose mother took him to the altar and made him swear vengeance on Rome. She took us to the altar and made us swear vengeance on whiskey, and everything that was an enemy to the human family; and we have been fighting it ever since and will to the end of our days.

"My mother used to punish me. I honour her for that. I do not object to punishment. She used to send me out to get a stick. It would take a long time to get it, and then I used to get a dead stick if I could. She would try it and, if it would break easily, then I had to go and get another. She was not in a hurry and did not tell me to hurry, because she knew all the time that I was being punished. I would go out and be gone a long time. When I came in, she would tell me to take off my coat, and then she would put the birch on; and I remember once I said, 'That doesn't hurt.' She put it on all the harder, and I never said that the second time. And once in awhile she would take me and she would say, 'You know I would rather put this on myself than to put it on you.' I would look up and see tears in her eyes. That was enough for me.

"What more can I say? You have lived with her and you know her. I want to give you one verse, her creed. Her creed was very short. Do you know what it was? I will tell you what it was. When everything went against her, this was her stay, 'My trust is in God. My trust is in God.' And when the neighbours would come in and I tell her to bind out her children, she would say, Not as long as I have these two hands.' 'Well,' they would say, 'you know one woman cannot bring up seven boys; they will turn up in jail, or with a rope around their necks.' She toiled on, and none of us went to jail, and none of us has had a rope around his neck. And if every one had a mother like that mother, if the world was mothered by that kind of mothers, there would be no use for jails.

Here is a book (a little book of devotions); this and the Bible were about all the books she had in those days; and every morning she would stand us up and read out of this book. All through the book I find things marked.

"Every Saturday night - we used to begin to observe the Sabbath at sundown Saturday night, and at sundown Sunday night we would run out and throw up our caps and let off our jubilant spirits - this is what she would give us Saturday night, and it has gone with me through life. Not all of it, I could not remember it all:

'How pleasant it is on Saturday night

When I've tried all the week to be good.'

"And on Sunday she always started us off to Sunday school. It was not a debatable question whether we should go or not. All the family attended.

"I do not know, of course, we do not know, whether the departed ones are conscious of what is going on earth. If I knew that she was I would send a message that we are coming after her. If I could, I believe I would send a message after her, not only for the family, and the town, but for the Seminary. She was always so much interested in the young ladies of the Seminary. She seemed to be as young as any of them, and entered into the joys of the young people just as much as any one. I want to say to the young ladies of the Seminary, who acted as maids of honour to escort my mother down to the church this morning, that I want you to trust my mother's Saviour.

"I want to say to the young men of Mt. Hermon, you are going to have a great honour to escort mother to her last resting-place. Her prayers for you ascended daily to the throne of grace. Now, I am going to give you the best I have; I am going to do the best I can; I am going to lay her away with her face toward Hermon


I think she is one of the noblest characters this world has ever seen. She was true as sunlight; I never knew that woman to deceive me.

I want to thank Dr. Scofield for the comforting words he has brought us to-day. It is a day of rejoicing, not of regret. She went without pain, without struggle, just like a person going to sleep. And now we are to lay her body away to await His coming in resurrection power. When I see her in the morning she is to have a glorious body. The body Moses had on the Mount of Transfiguration was a better body than God buried on Pisgah. When we see Elijah he will have a glorious body. 'That dear mother, when I see her again, is going to have a glorified body. (looking at her face) God bless you, mother; we love you still. Death has only increased our love for you. Good-bye for a little while. Mother. Let us pray."

Chapter 5

First Acquaintance With Mr. E. D. Kimball - Just Ready for the Light - Mr. Moody's Probation - Admitted To the Church - A Changed Life - He Seeks His Future In the West.

DWIGHT L. MOODY was not the boy to forget his compact with his uncle. He went to church every Sunday-- because he had promised to go. - attending the Mount Vernon Congregational Church, of which the Rev. Dr. E. N. Kirk was pastor. He always considered this to be a great church.

Dr. Kirk was an excellent preacher, but young Moody was at a stage where all sermons sounded alike to him. Frequently he would fall asleep during service, at least until an occasion when he was suddenly awakened from his complete repose by a stern-faced deacon, who, as he roused the lad from his slumbers, pointed to Dr. Kirk, who was preaching - as much as to say, " Keep your eyes on him! " Thereafter Dwight remained awake. Moreover, for lack of something else to do, he began to listen to the sermons. For the first time in my life," he said in later days, "I felt as if the preacher were preaching altogether at me."


One Sunday the young man appeared in the Sunday school of Mount Vernon Church. The superintendent, Mr. Palmer, to whom he gave his name, took him to the class taught by Mr. Edward D. Kimball, and he took his seat among the other boys. Says Mr. Kimball, " I handed him a closed Bible and told him the lesson was in John. The boy took the book and began running over the leaves with his finger away at the first of the volume looking for John. Out of the corners of their eyes the boys saw what he was doing and, detecting his ignorance glanced slyly and knowingly at one another, but not rudely. I gave the boys just one hasty glance of reproof. That was enough - their equanimity was restored immediately. I quietly handed Moody my own book, open at the right place, and took his. I did not suppose the boy could possibly have noticed the glances exchanged between the other boys over his ignorance, but it seems from remarks in later years that he did, and he said in reference to my little act in exchanging books that he would stick by the fellow who had stood by him and had done him a turn like that."

This Sunday school teacher was not one of the ordinary type. Mere literal instruction on Sunday did not satisfy his ideal of the teachers duty. He knew his boys, and, if he knew them, it was because be studied them, because he became acquainted with their occupations and aims, visiting them during the week. It was his custom, moreover, to find opportunity to give to his boys an opportunity to use his experience in seeking the better things of the Spirit. The day came when he resolved to speak to young Moody about Christ, and about his soul.


I started down town to Holton's shoe store," says Mr. Kimball. 'When I was nearly there, I began to wonder whether I ought to go just then, during business hours. And I thought maybe my mission might embarrass the boy, that when I went away the other clerks might ask who I was, and when they learned might taunt Moody and ask if I was trying to make a good boy out. of him. While I was pondering over it all, I passed the store without noticing it. Then when I found I had gone by the door, I determined to make a dash for it and have it over at once. I found Moody in the back part of the store wrapping up shoes in paper and putting them on shelves. I went up to him and put my hand on his shoulder, and as I leaned over I placed my foot upon a shoe box. Then I made my plea, and I feel that it was really a very weak one. I don't know just what words I used, nor could Mr. Moody tell. I simply told him of Christ's love for him and the love Christ wanted in return. That was all there was of it. I think Mr. Moody said afterward that there were tears in my eyes. It seemed that the young man was just ready for the light that then broke upon him, for there at once in the back of that shoe store in Boston the future great evangelist gave himself and his life to Christ."

Many years afterward Mr. Moody himself told the story of that day. When I was in Boston," he said, "I used to attend a Sunday school class, and one clay I recollect my teacher came around behind the counter of the shop I was at work in, and put his hand upon my shoulder, and talked to me about Christ and my soul. I had not felt that I had a soul till then. I said to myself This is a very strange thing. Here is a man who never saw me till lately, and he is weeping over my sins, and I never shed a tear about them.' But I understand it now, and know what it is to have a passion for men's souls and weep over their sins. I don't remember what he said, but I can feel the power of that man's hand on my shoulder to-night. it was not long after that I was brought into the Kingdom of God.'


One of his first steps after his conversion was to apply for admission into the Mount Vernon Church.

It is frequently stated that after his application for membership in the Mount Vernon Church, he was looked upon so unfavourably as a candidate that he was kept waiting for a year before he was granted admission. It has also been said, that even after his acceptance by the church his remarks in the church meetings were so far from edifying that his pastor was obliged to suggest to him, that he could serve the Lord much more acceptably by keeping silence.

While there is a foundation of truth in these statements, they must not be taken too literally. Mr. Moody was undoubtedly at that time ignorant of many of the most important reasons of his profession; but Dr. Kirk's church was a revival church, and his spirit was not such as to deny the opportunities of grace to any one who deserved them. The Rev. Dr. James M. Buckley, editor of theChristian Advocate,has written quite exhaustively on this matter. He has said

"Those sympathising with his Dr. Kirk's peculiar work, gathered about him. Among them were such men as Julius Palmer, the brother of Dr. Ray Palmer, the author of 'My Faith Looks Up to Thee'; he was one of the deacons, and all the rest had the same sympathies. Mr. Kimball was not only Mr. Moody's Sunday school teacher, and, as Mr. Moody expressly informed us, the means of his conversion, but was also one of the examining committee. But the Mount Vernon Church did not receive a person who could not furnish evidence that he was converted, even if he was perfectly orthodox in doctrine.


"About the time Mr. Moody was converted, a young man came from Scotland with a letter from a Presbyterian church. He could repeat the Shorter Catechism, answer all doctrinal questions glibly, but when he was asked of his position before God as a sinner and his conscious relation to Christ as a Saviour, he knew nothing of it and made no reply, except that 'such questions were never asked him before'. He confessed that he had simply 'joined' because he was advised and expected to do so. This young man was advised to wait, and brethren were appointed to try to arouse in him a consciousness of his need of a Saviour and of a work of grace, and to point him to the Lamb of God. About the same time, a young woman applied who was wholly in the dark on 'doctrines'; tender, tearful, hesitating, distrustful of herself, she could not tell why she thought herself a Christian, but could only say that she loved Christ and the prayer meeting. One of the committee said, 'Do you love God's people because they are His?' Her face brightened, and she said, 'O, sir, is that an evidence?' Yes.'Then I am sure I have that if I have no other, for I love to be with Christians anywhere.' She was promptly received.


"When Mr. Moody appeared for examination, he was eighteen years old. He had only been in the Sunday school class a few weeks; he had no idea and could not tell what it was to be a Christian; even when aided by his teacher, whom he loved, he could not state what Christ had done for him. The chief question put to him was this: 'Mr. Moody, what has Christ done for us all - for you - which entitles Him to our love?' The longest answer he gave in the examination was this: 'I do not know. I think Christ has done a great deal for us, but I do not think of anything particular as I know of.'

"Under these circumstances, as he was a stranger to all the members of the committee, and less than a month had elapsed since he began to give any serious thought to the salvation of his soul, they deferred recommending him for admission to the church. But two of the examining committee were specially designated to watch over him with kindness, and teach him 'the way of God more perfectly.

"When he met the committee again no merely doctrinal questions were asked of him; but as his sincerity and earnestness were undoubted and he appeared to have more light, it was decided to propound him for admission. About eight years after this, and when Mr. Moody had become prominent as an evangelist, he expressed his gratitude to one of the officers of the church for the course pursued, and said his conviction was that its influence was favourable to his growth in grace. He also said he was afraid that pastors and church officers generally were falling into the error of hurrying new converts into a profession of religion. To a person of our acquaintance Dr. Kirk himself referred with the deepest grief to these imputations upon the Church, and declared them to be without foundation in truth; as well he might, for if there ever existed a man in New England who was free from the spirit of 'staid and stiff New England orthodoxy ', it was Dr. Kirk.

"As for the suggestion to say but little in prayer meeting, we have little doubt that some one suggested that, for Mr. Moody has told us of his utter ignorance of the evangelical system. He was converted, he 'wished to do his duty', he said, 'whatever came to his lips, knowing no thing about its consistency or inconsistency; but he acted on John Wesley's rule, 'Do every religious, duty as you can until you can do it as you would.'"


One of those who knew Mr. Moody at the time of his conversion was Mr. Charles B. Botsford, of Boston. Shortly after the death of Mr. Moody, Mr. Botsford related what he knew of the life of Moody in Boston.

"I distinctly recall my first interview with Mr. Moody, early in 1856, said Mr. Botsford. "It was at the close of one of the Monday evening religious meetings of the Mt. Vernon Association of Young Men, formed several years before by Dr. Edward N. Kirk, for the benefit of young men of his church and congregation. Antedating the Y. M. C. A. by several years, it continued a vigorous life for several decades, and proved of great value.

"A literary meeting alternated with a devotional meeting. It was at this, his first attendance, at one of the latter, that in a broken and trembling way, he earnestly stated his purpose to turn over a new leaf and lead a Christian life. When the meeting was over I took him by the hand and conducted him for the first time to the rooms of the Y. M. C. A., in the old Tremont Temple, to attend, as was my custom, the 9 o'clock prayer and conference meeting. Moody spoke, but much more zealously than grammatically, and he continued to be an active participant in the meetings from week to week.


"After a time, one of the most cultured members complained to Mr. Moody's uncle, a shoe dealer on Tremont Row, between Brattle and Hanover streets, that his nephew was altogether too zealous and conspicuous in the Y. M. C. A. meetings, saying that he wished in some way to have the zealot restrained. When consulted about the matter I said: 'No, let the leaven work!' The world knows what Mr. Moody has since done, in, by and for Y.M.C.A.'s, to say nothing of his other work.

"In the meantime I had taken Moody to a Sunday morning devotional meeting, that I was accustomed to attend, in the vestry of Dr. Neal's Baptist church, where the Boston University now stands. At that meeting, also, with its strong sectarian atmosphere, Moody spoke, and so stumbled in absolute disregard of the Pilgrim's English, that, in embarrassment, I bowed my head on the rail of the seat before me. He continued there, also. It was from this church, later, that a good sister, more zealous to steady and guard the ark of the Lord than to encourage unlearned young men to become leaders in Israel, went to Mr. Holton and said: 'If you have any interest in or regard for your nephew, you had better admonish him not to talk so much, for he is making a fool of himself.' But still the leaven worked.

May 4, 1856, Mr. Moody united with the Mt. Vernon Church, where he was a member of Mr. Kimball's class in the Sunday school. He was not a constant attendant of the mid-week devotional meetings of the church, for, as he expressed it, he did not have liberty there in his utterances, and, naturally enough, perhaps, for the atmosphere of the meetings was strongly intellectual and positively spiritual, with such leaders as Deacons Palmer, Kimball, Pinkerton and Cushing, with Dr. Kirk, at the close, to deepen and seal the impression."


Concerning his relations to the Mount Vernon Church, Mr. Moody afterward said: "When I first became a Christian, I tried to join the church, but they wouldn't have me, because they didn't believe I was really converted."

A number of years afterward, Dr. Kirk was attending the anniversary of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, which was held that year in Chicago. He was entertained by Mr. Moody, the man who as a boy had come into the light, in some measure, under his influence, and he preached on Sunday in the pulpit of his former parishioner. When he returned to Boston Dr. Kirk called upon Mr. Moody's uncle, Mr. Holton, and said: " I told our people last evening that we had every reason to be ashamed of ourselves. That young Moody, whom we thought did not know enough to belong to our church and Sunday school, is to-day exerting a wider influence for the Master than any other man in the great Northwest."

Speaking of his experience in passing from the life of sin to the life of religion, Mr. Moody once said: "I used to have a terrible habit of swearing. Whenever I would get mad, out would come the oaths; but after I gave my heart to Christ, He took the oaths away, so that I did not have the least disposition to take God's name in vain."

At another time, when waited upon by a journalist, who asked him for a sketch of his life, Mr. Moody said " I was born in the flesh in 1837; I was born in the Spirit in 1856. What is born of the flesh may die; that which is born of the Spirit will live forever".


The Rev. Dr. Savage, of Chicago, used to tell of the way in which Mr. Moody revenged himself upon one of the deacons who had been instrumental in keeping him waiting for admission to the church. Mr. Moody's action was, of course, good-natured, for he not only bore no malice, but, on the other hand, was thankful for the wisdom which had required of him some sane understanding of his own state before he was allowed full fellowship with God's people. The earnest inquirer finds only a stimulus to further search when his own unfitness is made clear to him.

To return to the story. It was during the London campaign, and in the midst of one of the great meetings in Exeter Hall. Mr. Moody, whose sharp eyes never missed a detail in the great audiences which he faced, saw, away back under a gallery, his old friend, the deacon. The good man was travelling at the time, and had come to the meeting largely out of curiosity. Mr. Moody said nothing until toward the close of the service. Then he suddenly exclaimed: "I see in the house an eminent Christian gentleman from Boston. Deacon P., come right up to the platform; the people are anxious to hear you."

'The deacon was far from eager to accept this hearty invitation, but he found that there was no alternative. So, mounting the platform, he began to speak. He told of having been acquainted with Mr. Moody during the evangelist's early life - of the fact that they had been members of the same church. Here Mr. Moody suddenly interrupted: "Yes, Deacon, and you kept me out of that church for six months, because you thought I did not know enough to join it." The deacon, at last succeeding in making himself heard above the roar of laughter which greeted Mr. Moody's sally, retorted that it was a privilege to any church to receive Mr. Moody at all, even though with considerable trepidation, and after long endeavour to know him thoroughly.


A number of years after his own conversion Mr. Moody found an opportunity to repay his old Sunday school teacher in kind for the help which Mr. Kimball had given to him. After a service in Boston a young man came to Mr. Moody and introduced himself as a son of Mr. Kimball. "I'm glad to meet you," said Mr. Moody. "Are you a Christian?" The young man admitted that he was not, and Mr. Moody inquired of him as to his age. "I am seventeen, was the reply. "That was just my age, when your father led me to the Lord," said Mr. Moody, "and now I want to repay him by leading his son to Christ."

The coincidence, in age made an impression on the young man. After a brief conversation, he promised to surrender his heart to the Saviour, and a short time afterward Mr. Moody received a letter from him, stating that he had found what he had sought. After his reception into the Mount Vernon Church, Mr. Moody remained in Boston for about five months. The restraint of his conservative surroundings lay heavy upon him. He yearned for freedom - freedom to think, freedom to speak, freedom to work. He must have had some consciousness of the great intuitions, the great feelings, which were struggling' in him to burst forth into bloom, and he must have realised that the soil of staid Boston was not stimulating to such a growth. He had come into a new life his forceful nature was not the kind to wait for circumstances to develop it. He required broad opportunity.


His unrest finally decided him definitely to seek a future in the West. His mother, it is said, did not approve of the move, dreading, as do all good mothers, the change which would take her son farther from her, and possibly fearing the dangers of a new environment which might not prove wholesome. Any dread which she may have felt was afterward proved to have been ill-founded.

Securing a letter from his uncle, Mr. Moody set out for Chicago in September, 1856, and entered the Western Metropolis with small store of earthly goods, but with a large fund of buoyant hope and energy, and a devoted purpose to serve his Divine Master.

Chapter 6

Preparation for Future Work - Recruiting For the Church and For Sunday Schools - The School on "the Sands" – Muscular Christianity - The North Market Mission - President Lincoln's Visit - Incidents of the Work.

WHEN young Moody arrived in Chicago, he presented a letter which his uncle had given him to Mr. Wiswall, a shoe dealer on Lake Street. The boy was not altogether a prepossessing candidate for a position. He was boisterous and uncouth, and it was with many misgivings that Mr. Wiswall took him into his store. His employer's decision, however, was fully justified by the young mans work, It was not long before young Moody had the reputation of being the best salesman in the employ of the firm. He especially delighted to take in hand customers who were unusually difficult to deal with, and, while he never over stepped the line between honesty and deceit in his business dealings when it came to a contest of wits he was almost invariably victorious.


It was not long before the growth of Mr. Wiswall's business led him to open a jobbing department. Mr. Moody was promoted to a situation in the new department, and in this wider opportunity for the exercise of his business faculties, he continued to win approval as a valuable assistant. His work took him to the rail road stations, hotels and other business places in search of customers, and doubtless did much toward widening his acquaintance, and adding to his experience in dealing with men. The acquirement of practical knowledge of the best way to approach men was a wonderful preparation for the great work of his later years.

A number of Mr. Wiswall's clerks slept in rooms in the store building, an arrangement which naturally led to a fraternal intercourse. It is said that in the evenings these young men made it a habit to enter into debates upon the live questions of the day - and sometimes even questions which were not living issues. Politics, theology, business, all supplied topics to these young orators, and frequently discussions became very enthusiastic. The slavery question was often mooted. My Moody was, as might be expected from his vehement nature, an earnest participant in these debates. Unembarrassed by the limitations placed upon him by lack of education, he plunged boldly into whatever subject was under discussion, and generally made his point. In theology the main subject of debate was the old, old question, foreordination versus free will. Mr. Moody had developed strong Calvinistic tendencies, and he found a worthy opponent in one of his fellow clerks who, by bringing up, was a Methodist. The question of amusements was also taken up. Mr. Moody was strongly averse to any frivolous form of amusement, or any amusement which seemed to him frivolous. 'The story is told that he came into the store one night from some religious meeting, and found two of the clerks engaged in a game of checkers. He dashed the checker board to the ground; then, before any one could protest, dropped upon his knees and began to pray. It must not be thought, however, that he was entirely averse to healthful sports. On the contrary, rough games and practical jokes were a keen delight to him.


Shortly after his arrival in Chicago, Mr. Moody united by letter with the Plymouth Congregational Church, of which Dr. J. E. Roy was at that time pastor. It was a hospitable church, and Mr. Moody was not slow to find an opportunity to exercise his desire to do practical Christian work. He rented five pews and kept them filled with young men at every service. He also went out and hunted up boys and girls for the Sunday school. The statement has been made that he asked for a class in the Sunday school but was refused. This is doubtful, for Mr. Moody himself recognized and declared at that time that he could not teach. He, however, took part in the prayer meetings, and in his work as a recruiting officer for the church of Christ, began to ignore denominational lines.


It seemed as if no church could give him enough to do; therefore he began to attend a Sunday morning class in the First Methodist Church, and to work with its Mission Band, which was composed of a number of devoted young men, who every Sunday morning used to visit various public places and invite strangers to attend church services. It will be seen that Mr. Moody's Christian work was purely practical. This was a characteristic determined by his temperament. Theorizing had no place in his energetic mind, but his whole heart was bent to secure the best results from the means at hand and when means were lacking to find them. We are struck with his method of making use of every opportunity, however slight. He never ignored small things; he felt it as incumbent upon him to to help the clerk who worked beside him in the store, and the stranger hw met casually upon the street, as to endeavor to sway large audiences from the rostrum. As a matter of fact, it is doubtful if, in these humble beginnings of his efforts, he had any realization of the great work that lay in store for him. He simply saw men and children sinking in the moral lazaretto of a great city and stretched out his hand to help them.

A scientific study of the principles of education has impressed upon our the necessity of dealing with children, if we desire to effect any permanent change in the mental or moral condition of the world; for the children of to-day are the fathers and the mothers of the next generation. Without theorising, Mr. Moody must have had an understanding of this principle. It was not long after he came to Chicago that he began to work among the children. His success in recruiting for the Sunday schools was wonderful. On one occasion he found a little mission Sunday school on the North side, and offered to take a class. The superintendent pointed out that they already had almost as many teachers as pupils, but added that, if Mr. Moody would get his own pupils, he would be at liberty to conduct a class. The next Sunday Mr. Moody appeared with eighteen ragamuffins. They were dirty, unkempt, many of them barefoot, but as the young teacher said, "each had a soul to save".


Mr. Moody's missionary explorations led him into the most evil parts of the city. His face became familiar in the worst saloon districts, among the sailors' boarding houses, and on the docks. It was on one of these excursions that he fell in with Mr. J. B. Stillson, a business man who was employing his spare time in the same missionary work. The two men cast in their lot together, and, according to one historian, during a single summer helped to recruit twenty mission Sunday schools.

Mr. Moody recognised that the average mission school was not calculated to reach the lowest strata of society. There was too large a requirement of order, too little allowance for the homes from which the pupils had come. Accordingly, he decided to begin a mission school of his own, On the north side of the Chicago River was a district called"The Sands", sometimes also known as "Little Hell". To-day, some of the finest residences of Chicago stand there where, in the early fifties and sixties, crime and debauchery reigned supreme. It was to this home of vice Mr. Moody went to begin his work. He found a deserted shanty which had formerly been a saloon and hiring this ramshackle place, started out to drum up children to fill it. At first he found it hard to get at the young street Arabs; then he filled his pockets with maple sugar, and, judiciously distributing it among those who promised to come, soon had his little room overflowing with barbarians. One who visited the school in those days has described his experiences. "When I came to the little old shanty and entered the door," he said, "the first thing I saw by the light of the few candles, was a man standing up, holding in his arms a Negro boy, to whom he was trying to read the story of the Prodigal Son. A great many words the reader could not make out and was obliged to skip. My thought was, If the Lord can ever use such an instrument as that for His honour and glory it will astonish me! When the meeting was over, Mr Moody said to me, 'I have got only one talent. I have no education, but I love the Lord Jesus Christ, and I want to do something for Him.' I have watched him since, and have come to know him thoroughly, and for consistent walk and conversation I have never met a man equal to him."


There was probably never another school just like this school on "The Sands" to which young Moody devoted his spare time. Speaking from the steps of the hall entrance, the evangelist could make his voice heard in the doors of two hundred saloons. At first he had no seats for his school, and for some time none of the other usual requisites; no blackboard, no library, no maps; but it was a live school - in fact, it was about as much as the teachers could do to keep the turbulent membership sufficiently quiet to sing a little and hear a little talking. Mr. Moody was helped here by his friend Mr. Stillson. As a cardinal doctrine they held that the worse a boy was the more necessity there was to keep him in the school. There is a story of one young rough who defied for a long time all efforts to tame him, and whose riotous behavior endangered the existence of the school. Having meditated and prayed over the matter all the week, Mr. Moody came to the school on Sunday persuaded that there was but one remedy that would reach this case, and that was a good thrashing. Coming up behind the young rowdy, he seized him and pushed him through the open door of a little anteroom, then, locking the door, proceeded to business. The excitement in the schoolroom was drawn off by singing until the two reappeared after a somewhat prolonged and noisy recess in the anteroom. Both were evidently well warmed up, but the humble bearing of the offending boy made manifest the result of the battle. "It was hard work," remarked Mr. Moody, "but I guess we have saved him." This proved to be true; and, moreover, this exhibition of muscular Christianity served as a strong claim on the admiration of the school Mr. Moody had demonstrated his ability to keep order, and thereafter found many helpers. One day an old pupil, coming up the aisle, noticed a new recruit with his cap on. He snatched it off, and with one blow sent the offender to the floor. "I'll teach you to keep your cap on. in this school," was the explanation of the young protector as he passed to his own seat with the air of one ready to do his duty.


After a while the little shanty became too small for Mr. Moody's purpose, and, with the permission of Mayor Haines, the school was removed to a large hall over the North Market. This hall was generally used on Saturday evenings for dancing, and it often took the whole Sunday morning for Mr. Moody to clean it up so that it would be in condition for his use in the afternoon. There were no chairs, so Mr. Moody set out to secure money to buy them. He went to several rich men, among others to Mr. J.V. Farwell, a prominent merchant. After receiving a contribution, he asked Mr. Farwell what he was doing in a personal way for the unsaved, and invited him to attend the mission. The next Sunday Mr. Farwell appeared at the North Market School. The scene, to his imagination, defied all description. Ragamuffins were darting hither and thither, crying their street cries, and entering upon all sorts of mischief, but from this state of confusion Scripture readings, songs, and speeches occasionally rescued them. Mr. Farwell made a speech, and at the close, to his great consternation was nominated by Mr. Moody superintendent of the school. The election was carried by acclamation before he had time to object. This office, so suddenly pressed upon him was filled by Mr. Farwell for more than six years.


It was not easy to find suitable teachers for the classes which made up such a school, and it was not always easy to get rid of unsuitable teachers, but a plan was hit upon that worked to a charm. As no teacher could do such pupils good unless he could interest them a rule was made giving the pupils the privilege, under certain limitation, of leaving his class when he chose and going into another one. The result was that the superintendent was relieved from the unpleasant task of taking a dull teacher's class away from him, for the class, one by one, quickly took itself away.

Mr. Moody put a vast amount of work into the school. His evenings and Sundays were spent in skirmishing about "The Sands" looking after old pupils or hunting up new ones. Along with the Gospel he gave a great deal of relief for the sick, the unemployed, and unfortunate. He was the almoner not only of his own charity, but also of the gifts of the many friends who became interested in his work. His old employer has stated that as many as twenty children used to come into the store at one time to be gratuitously fitted with new shoes.

As the school became popular, interest and curiosity brought many visitors, and it became easier to find teachers for the seventy or eighty classes. The attendance at the school increased in the most astonishing fashion, In three months there were 200 pupils in six months 350, and within a year the average attendance was about 650, with an occasional crowd of nearly 1000. The city missionary made objection to the wide range from which Mr. Moody was now drawing his recruits, on the plea that he was infringing on the work of other missions, but the work of the North Market School continued. No uniform lesson leaf was used in the school, but each teacher and pupil was supplied with a copy of the New Testament and from this drew information and inspiration.


A notable event in the history of the school was the visit of President-elect Lincoln, who came one Sunday at the request of Mr. Farwell. When the carriage went to the house where Mr. Lincoln was visiting, he left an unfinished dinner in order to keep his appointment, and was hurried northward to the unsavoury district in which the North Market was situated. The President-elect was perhaps not accustomed to talk to Sunday schools; at any rate he requested that he should not be asked to make a speech; but when he was introduced to the spirited aggregation in the North Market Hall, the enthusiasm was so great that he yielded and spoke. His words were for right thinking and right acting. When a few months later this man issued a call for 75,000 volunteers, about sixty of the boys who had heard him that day in the North Market Hall answered. To them the words of the man who had told them of duty still rang through the words of the head of the State.

Conversions and transformations were continually occurring as a result of the work of Mr. Moody's school. More are related than can possibly be mentioned here,


It must not be supposed that in his peregrinations among the lowly and the wretched, Mr. Moody always met with a welcome reception. There were many times when he stood in danger of his life. On such occasions he made it a principle to run away just as fast as he could, and he generally escaped because he could run faster than those who pursued him. One Sunday morning he was visiting some Roman Catholic family, with the purpose of bringing the children to the school, when a powerful man sprang at him with a club. The man had sworn to kill him, but a hard run saved the life of the young evangelist. Even after this attack he did not desist in his visit to this house, but continued again and again, until his tact and patience disarmed his adversary.

On another occasion, one Saturday evening he found in a house a jug of whiskey, which had been stored there for a carouse the following day. After a rousing temperance lecture, Mr. Moody persuaded the women of the house to permit him to pour the whiskey into the street. This he did before departing. Early the next morning he came back to fetch the children of the place to Sunday school. The men were lying in wait for him to thrash him. It was impossible to get away, for he was surrounded on all sides, but before they could touch him, Mr. Moody said, "See here, men, if you are going to whip me, you might at least give me time to say my prayers." The request was unusual; perhaps it was for that very reason that it was acceeded to. Mr. Moody dropped upon his knees and prayed such a prayer as those rough men had never heard before. Gradually they became interested and then softened, and when he had finished they gave him their hands, and a few minutes later Mr. Moody left the house for his school, followed by the children he had come to find.


Mr. Moody was not only busily engaged in Chicago, but early in his missionary life he was called to speak in small Sunday school conventions chiefly because he had already gained the reputation of reaching the masses of poor children in the cities. He knew this work thoroughly, and in his own way he could tell about it, not only to the instruction but often to the amusement as well of his audience. At one time he was invited to a place in Illinois and was accompanied by a Christian Association secretary; they two were advertised to speak. The secretary, in speaking of it afterwards said, "If ever two poor fellows were frightened, it was Moody and I." They reached their destination about two o'clock in the morning, too early to sit up and too late to go to bed, but they determined that they would spend all the time that was given them in prayer. During the rest of the night they sought God for power and guidance. Before the hour came when they were to speak, Mr. Moody secured the use of a public-school room which was quite near the place of the larger meeting. When asked what he wanted to do with it, he said, " I want it for an inquiry meeting." Both these young men were to speak, and each agreed that while the other spoke he would pray for him. When Mr. Moody was announced he seemed like one inspired. He pictured to them their need of Christ to help them as Sunday school teachers; told them it was an awful sin to do their work in a careless manner, and alter an address of an hour called upon all who wanted to meet him and to know Christ, to come with him to the school-room next door, where great numbers were helped. This was the beginning of a widespread spirit of revival, but it was also the beginning of a new life for Mr. Moody. From 1858 to 1865, Mr. Moody, Mr. Jacobs and Major Whittle, who were closely identified in conventions held in different parts of the country, became deeply impressed with the need of more of the presence of the Holy Spirit. The annual convention was to meet in Springfield, and these three workers were deeply concerned that it should be the best convention in the history of the State. They reached Springfield before the association convened, and held revival meetings as a prelude to what was to follow afterward. Seventy persons were converted. This became the Revival Conference. The next year the Sunday school workers met in the city of Decatur, and a record was brought up of ten thousand persons brought to Christ in a year. From this time on Mr. Moody was constantly invited to other States, and from Maine to Texas, from Montreal to San Francisco, from St. Paul to New Orleans, he went year after year, preaching and praying, rousing the Christian Associations into activity, inspiring the pastors to labour for revivals, helping the Sunday school teachers to reach their scholars for Christ; and in all his work as an evangelist throughout the world, deeper impressions were never made than in the first days of his active work as a Sunday school teacher and leader.

Chapter 7

The YMCA And The Chicago Avenue Church
First work with the Young Men's Christian Association - The Illinois Street Church - Elected President of the Young Men's Christian Association - Dedication of the New Building - A Great Religious Centre - The North Side Tabernacle - Development of the Chicago Avenue Church.

MR. MOODY had not been long identified with active Christian work in Chicago, before he saw an opportunity for service in connection with the Young Men's Christian Association. This organisation had been established in Chicago as a result of the great revival of 1857 - 8, but after a few years the interest in the daily noon prayer meeting began to wane. To increase this interest impressed Mr. Moody as his duty. His abilities were soon recognised by those in charge of the work, and he was appointed chairman of the Visiting Committee to the sick and to strangers. His work in behalf of the noon meetings was blessed moreover with large results.


He had found the Association made up of conservative men of middle or advanced years, but his advent among them was, as an officer of the Association has said, "like a stiff north-west breeze," and under his influence the institution became free and popular, and its influence was extensively widened. His abilities were especially eminent in raising money, but of the thousands of dollars he secured he would take nothing for himself. Among other schemes devised by him was one which federated the mission schools of the city under the Association, and brought them under the care of the stronger churches. The report of the first year of the work of his committee on visitation gives the number of families visited as 554, and the amount of money used for charitable purposes as $2350.

Meanwhile, the growing strength of the North Market Mission taxed the ingenuity of the young superintendent to provide room for its expansion. He set himself to work to secure a suitable edifice, and, collecting personally about $20,000, saw a neat chapel rise in Illinois Street, not far from the old North Market Hall. This was in 1863. Mr. Moody had ever aimed, as the converts of the Mission grew in number, to recommend them to regular church homes, but an increasing unwillingness on the part of the converts to leave the influences of his personal presence seemed to necessitate the organisation of a regular church to be made up of the converts of the Mission.


The Illinois Street Church" was therefore organised under Congregational auspices. Members were baptised and received into the church by regular pastors of other Congregational churches, but the communion service was conducted by Mr. Moody without reference to established forms. He was the pastor of the church, although he never received ordination. For this reason, probably, the church, although organised by Congregationalists, was not reckoned a Congregational Church. Its discipline and confession of faith were made up with the end that no true lover of the Lord should be kept from the fellowship of this Christian band by any non-essential of doctrine or observance.

The membership of this church in the beginning was unique. Almost every communicant had been rescued from degradation by the work of the Mission. And it was a working congregation. Labour was so divided that every member had something to do, and every night saw some service in the chapel. The meetings seemed to be a continuous revival. Boundless energy and great physical strength, with the constant dwelling of God's spirit in him, alone enabled Mr. Moody to bear up under the great strain. At times he would find himself completely exhausted and almost ready to give up, but a few hours of rest or a slight change I occupation generally sufficed to put him very quickly on his feet again.


The story is told of how he made two hundred calls on New Year's Day. "At an early hour the omnibus which was to take him and several of his leading men was at the door, and, with a carefully prepared list of residences, they began the day's labour. The list included a large proportion of families living in garrets and the upper stories of high tenements. On reaching the home of a family belonging to his congregation he would spring out of the 'bus, leap up the stairways, rush into the room, and pay his respects as follows

I am Moody; this is Deacon De Golyer; this is Deacon Thane; this is Brother Hitchcock. Are you well? Do you all come to church and Sunday-school? Have you all the coal you need for the winter? 'Let us pray? And down we would all go upon our knees, while Mr. Moody offered from fifteen to twenty words of earnest, tender, sympathetic supplication.

"Then springing to his feet, he would dash on his hat, dart through the doorway and down the stairs, throwing a hearty 'good bye' behind him, leap into the 'bus, and off to the next place on his list the entire exercise occupying about one minute and a half.

Before long the horses were tired out, for Mr. Moody insisted on their going on a run from one house to another; so the omnibus was abandoned, and the party proceeded on foot One after another of his companions became exhausted with running upstairs and downstairs, and across the streets, and kneeling on bare floors, and getting up in a hurry; until, reluctantly, but of necessity, they were obliged to relinquish the attempt, and the tireless pastor was left to make the last of the two hundred calls alone. He returned home in the highest spirits to laugh at his exhausted companions for deserting him."

The next year Mr. Moody went on foot through another such day - reminding his friends that on the previous New Year they had often felt obliged to leave the 'bus before reaching a house, lest the sight of the vehicle should hurt the poor they visited, as an apparent waste of money.


The increase of the work of the Young Men's Christian Association during the Civil War called for increased accommodations. Mr. Moody's success with his Mission, and his well-known energy and boldness, led to the proposal that he be elected president of the Association. His lack of learning and his bluntness caused considerable opposition to his election, but he received a small majority. A building committee was immediately organised. Mr. Moody's plan was to organise a stock company, with twelve trustees, who should erect and hold the building in trust. The stock was to bear six percent interest, from the completion of the building, and the interest on the stock was to be paid out of the rentals of such portions of the building as were not needed for the use of the Association, and also from the rent of the great Hall. The excess of the rentals over the interest was to be used to buy up the stock, at par, in behalf of the Association. Mr. Moody succeeded in placing the stock to the value of $101000.

The new building was erected in Madison Street, between Clark and La Salle Streets. The large hall had a seating capacity of three thousand. There were in the building a large room for the noon prayer meetings, a library, offices, etc. The hall was dedicated September 29, 1867. The report of the treasurer, Mr. John V, Farwell, on that occasion, showed that the entire cost of land, building, etc., was $199000. Stock had been subscribed to the amount of $135000; $50000 had been loaned on mortgages. The remaining indebtedness was at once cleared up by subscriptions.


Among the speakers at the dedicatory service was Mr. George H. Stuart, president of the United States Christian Commission. His address sketched the history of the Association, and described the possibilities that were open to its efforts. The effect of his speech was marvellous. It seemed as if the words of this great Christian man had loosened the heart-strings of every individual in the large audience. The hall was still unnamed, but on Mr. Moody's nomination it was christened "Farwell Hall," in honour of Mr. John V. Farwell.

Under the management of Mr. Moody, Farwell Hall became very popular. The daily noon prayer meeting was so well attended that occasionally the one thousand seats in the prayer room were not sufficient to hold the people, and it was necessary to adjourn to the large hall. Monday evening a special meeting was held for strangers. Every noon Mr. Moody would go to the street in front of the hall a few minutes before the meeting, and endeavour to send within as many of the passers-by as he could approach. Then, as the clock struck twelve, he would hurry up the stairs and take his usual seat, near the leader, where, if the meeting seemed to drag or to require a stimulus, he would take it in hand and do everything necessary to animate it.

Mr. Moody began to be known in Young Men's Christian Association work throughout the United States and Canada, and his services were in frequent demand for conventions and revival services.

Four months after its dedication, Farwell Hall was burned, in January, 1868. Mr. Moody did not lag when this catastrophe overtook the enterprise in which he was bound up. Subscriptions were opened immediately, and most of the original stockholders came to the front with renewed support. On the old foundations a new Farwell Hall was erected. It was dedicated in 1869, to an only too brief period of noble service for the Master.


Mr. Moody continued president of the Association for four years. He then declined re-election, but consented to act as vice-president, with Mr. J. V. Farwell in the chair. The Sunday evening meetings in the new hall were wonderful. Mr. Moody would there preach the same discourse he had delivered to his congregation in Illinois Street in the morning. Such throngs attended these evening meeting that they came to compose, with one exception, the largest protestant congregation in Chicago. The sermon was followed by an inquiry meeting.

Farwell Hall soon became a great religious centre. That its success as an institution was due in large degree to Mr. Moody cannot be doubted. His energy made possible the erection of the first structure; his perseverance called forth the second, phoenix like, from the ashes of the first; his devotion filled the prayer meetings; his faith led hundreds to a changed life; and his directness, his singleness of purpose, prevented any deviation of the work from the paths of Christian helpfulness. The second Farwell Hall went down in the great fire of 1871, but its work still lived.

Mr. Moody used to give an incident of his last service in Farwell Hall on the night of the great fire. He said:


The last time I preached upon this question was in Farwell HaIl. I had been for five nights preaching on the life of Christ. I took Him from the cradle and followed Him up to the judgement hall, and on that occasion I consider I made as great a blunder as ever I made in my life. If I could recall my act I would give this right hand. It was upon that memorable night in October, and the Court House bell was sounding an alarm of fire, but I paid no attention to it. You know we were accustomed to hear the fire-bell often, and it didn't disturb us much when it sounded. I finished the sermon upon 'What shall I do with Jesus?' And I said to the audience, 'Now I want you to take the question with you and think over it, and next Sunday I want you to come back and tell me what you are going to do with it.' What a mistake It seems now as if Satan was in my mind when I said this. Since then I have never dared to give an audience a week to think on their salvation. If they were lost, they might rise up in judgement against me, 'Now is the accepted time.' We went down stairs to the other meeting, and I remember when Mr. Sankey was singing and how his voice rang when he came to that pleading verse:

'Today the Saviour calls;
For refuge fly.
The storm of justice falls,
And death is nigh.'

After the meeting we went home. I remember going down La Salle street with a young man who is probably in the hall to-night, and saw the glare of flames. I said to the young man, 'This means ruin to Chicago.' About one o'clock Farwell Hall went; soon the church in which I had preached went down, and everything was scattered. I never saw that audience again. My friends, we don't know what may happen to-morrow, but there is one thing I do know, and that is, if you take the gift, you are saved. If you have eternal life, you need not fear fire, death, or sickness. Let disease or death come, you can shout triumphantly over the grave, if you have Christ. My friends, what are you going to do with Him tonight? Will you decide now?"


The Illinois Street Church was also burned in the great fire, and Mr. Moody at once began the work of feeding and sheltering the homeless. Complaints were made of his too bountiful distribution, for he would refuse no one who asked. He therefore withdrew from the relief work, and went East, to hold revival meetings and to raise money toward rebuilding his church. With the large assistance of Mr. George H. Stuart and Mr. John Wanamaker, of Philadelphia, he obtained three thousand dollars for the erection of a rough structure in the burned district, not far from the ruins of the old church. This " North Side Tabernacle," as it was called, covered a plot of ground one hundred and nine feet long and seventy-five feet wide. All around it were the ruins. There was some doubt whether the situation of the Tabernacle would permit a large attendance, but on the day of dedication more than one thousand children came together.

The meetings in the Tabernacle were distinguished by a remarkable revival. During the year following the fire eight services were held every Sunday. A wide relief work was also instituted by the indefatigable pastor. Mr. Moody had returned from the eastern tour refreshed spiritually and blessed by a large access of power. He has told us how, while he was in New York City on that memorable journey, God revealed Himself especially to his servant. This baptism of the Divine Love vivified his later work and made it tell with the unconverted as never before. And so, in the Tabernacle among the ashes, sprang up a wonderful manifestation of God's presence, and hundreds were led to Christ.


The new church, which afterward came to be known as "The Chicago Avenue Church", was partly erected in 1873. From that time it was used by the congregation, a temporary roof being built over the first floor, but not until 1876 was it completed, freed of debt, and dedicated. Up to this time the preaching and pastoral work was done chiefly by Mr. Moody and Mr. Watts Dc Golyer. Since then the Rev. W. J. Erdman, the Rev. Charles H. Norton, the Rev. G. C. Needham, President Blanchard, the Rev. Charles F. Goss and the Rev. F. B. Hyde have occupied the pulpit and acted as pastors. The present pastor is the Rev. Dr. R. A. Torrey. The church has always maintained its early character as an undenominational, evangelical and aggressive congregation. The sittings and other privileges are all free, and the motto selected at the organisation of the church, and still inscribed over the main entrance, is "Welcome to this House of God are strangers and the poor." It has always been dependent upon the offerings of the people for its support, and the expenses are met through the systematic weekly giving of the congregation.

Chapter 8

Giving Up Business
Moody as a Commercial Traveller - "God will Provide" - He Gives Up Business - His Means Exhausted - Friends Come with Unsolicited Aid – Marriage - His Wife and Her Influence - Mr. Moody's Family.

It is not hard to appreciate the straits to which Mr. Moody was subjected by the conflicting claims of his business and his mission work, Only a man of boundless energy and fine physique could have accomplished what he was accomplishing. His business received its full share of his attention as formerly, but in his every spare moment his mind was occupied by plans for the work at North Market Hall, while every evening and every Sunday he gave himself up wholly to his labours for the Master.


Meanwhile he had not remained with Mr. Wiswall. After two years with his first friend, he entered the establishment of Mr. C. N. Henderson, who had become acquainted with him at the Mission, and had taken interest in the young man and his work. This new connection forced upon him the work of a commercial traveller. His evenings could no longer be given to mission work at home, for the greater part of his time was spent out of the city. However, no matter how far his travels might have taken him during the week, he never failed to return on Saturday night, that he might be at North Market Hall on Sunday. It will be readily understood that inasmuch as his business arrangements provided for his return to the city only one Sunday out of four, the expenses of his weekly trips would have been a serious drain upon his slender financial resources. But the superintendent of the Chicago, Burlington and Quincy Railroad, a man of generous impulses, who felt deeply interested in the North Side Sunday school, finding that Mr. Moody's presence was essential to the Sunday work, provided him with a free pass over the railroad lines under his control, to bring him home three Sundays out of the four.

Mr. Moody had not held his position very long before Mr. Henderson died. In the changes which the removal of this good man entailed in the house, Mr. Moody severed his connection with the firm and removed to the establishment of Messrs. Buel, Hill, & Granger, with whom he remained for about one year. More and more was his heart wrapped up in his practical Christian work business meant less and less to him. Finally he made his decision and gave up secular business entirely that he might devote his whole strength and time to practical work for the Lord.


This was no sudden decision, no lightning conviction of a great duty. On the contrary, the step was decided upon only after mature deliberation and a thorough test of his fitness for his chosen work. His first ambition had been to become a great merchant; now this was thrown aside, and when at last he bade good-bye to business, he said to one of his friends, "I have decided to give to God all my time". "But how are you going to live?" asked his friend. Mr. Moody replied, " God will provide for me, if he wishes me to keep on, and I shall keep on until I am obliged to stop."

There was no unpleasantness in his severance of the old business connections. All his former employers spoke in the highest terms of Mr. Moody and of his work with them. Said Mr. Hill, a member of the last firm for whom he worked, " One day not long after he left our house I ran across him, and I asked him, 'Moody, what are you doing?' 'I am at work for Jesus Christ,' was the reply. At first his answer shocked me a little, but after I had thought it over I decided that it was a fair statement of the facts in the case. It was true; that was just what he was doing, and his work for the Lord was as vigorous, as practical, as it had always been for other employers." Mr. Hill added that Mr. Moody had left the employ of his firm in the pleasantest circumstances, having retained his Christian character unblemished. All of his old employers, as a matter of fact, not only bade him God speed when he left them, but kept some track of his future course, with the conviction, even in those early days, that he would succeed in accomplishing great things.

It had not been difficult for Mr. Moody, during his years of business life, to lay up a considerable sum of money out of his salary, for his living expenses were very light and his frugality a matter of record; but a great part of what he earned went into his mission work. Before leaving the world of business he set aside a certain sum. Part of this money he invested, but he saved out $1,000 to pay his first year's expenses. He was now happy. Free to devote his time to his loved Mission, and to the Y.M.C.A .work, which was becoming almost equally dear to him, and conscious of the fact that he had in his pocket money to enable him to accomplish many of his plans, he set out with a light heart on his new life. And yet, it was not a new life, it was simply a ripening of those seeds which had been sown back there in his uncle's store in Boston when he first gave his heart to the Lord.

One of the first things he did was to invest part of his thousand dollars in a small pony. With the help of this animal he was able to extend his missionary excursions over a much wider area, and to accomplish much more than theretofore. The sight of Mr. Moody on his pony became a familiar one in the poor districts of Chicago. It is said that often after a Sunday morning hunt for Sunday school recruits, he would be seen emerging from some squalid street, surrounded by children, some of whom had clambered upon the pony with him, while others hung to the bridle reins or marched behind in procession on their way to the Sunday school.


Meanwhile the thousand dollars quickly vanished. It did not prove enough to meet half the demands which the mission work and various other deeds of charity brought upon Mr. Moody. Then the rest of his small fortune disappeared, and he found himself reduced to the proverbial water and a crust. One of the few books which he had read was the life of George Muller, whose work of faith in England had impressed him so deeply that he determined to follow that good man's principle and trust in the Lord even for his sustenance. When the growth of the Y.M.C.A. noon prayer meetings necessitated their removal to a large backroom in the First Methodist Church block, Mr. Moody betook himself there, and, though at length brought to the necessity of sleeping on the benches of the prayer room and living on crackers and cheese, he kept on with his work, not even making his condition known to his friends, who would have been glad to help him. All this time he was collecting considerable sums for charitable purposes, but not one cent did he devote to himself. He had determined to give his faith a thorough test. At times he must have felt some faltering, but at those times the Lord always gave him some reassurance.

After a time some of his friends began to wonder how he was living, and were greatly astonished at the result of the investigations. Discovering his poverty, they insisted upon supplying him with the necessities of life. From this time on, trust in God always brought Mr. Moody an answer to his needs. This does not mean that he was never tried, but simply that, taking everything into consideration, he was supplied comfortably, and sometimes even bountifully. People who knew him came to esteem it a privilege to help him.

It is of interest here to give Mr. Moody's own narrative of the incident which finally influenced his decision to leave business for Christian work.


I had never lost sight of Jesus Christ since the first night I met Him in the store in Boston. But for years I was only a nominal Christian, really believing that I could not work for God. No one had ever asked me to do anything.

"I went to Chicago, I hired five pews in a church, and used to go out on the street and pick up young men and fill these pews. I never spoke to those young men about their souls; that was the work of the elders, I thought. After working for some time like that, I started a mission Sabbath school. I thought numbers were everything, and so I worked for numbers. When the attendance ran below one thousand, it troubled me; and when it ran to twelve or fifteen hundred, I was elated. Still none were converted; there was no harvest. Then God opened my eyes.

"There was a class of young ladies in the school, who were, without exception, the most frivolous set of girls I ever met. One Sunday the teacher was ill, and I took that class. They laughed in my face, and I felt like opening the door and telling them all to get out and never come back. That week the teacher of the class came into the place where I worked. He was pale, and looked very ill. 'What is the trouble?' I asked. ' I have had another hemorrhage of my lungs. The doctor says I cannot live on Lake Michigan, so I am going to New York State. I suppose I am going home to die.'

"He seemed greatly troubled, and when I asked him the reason, he replied: 'Well, I have never led any of my class to Christ. I really believe I have done the girls more harm than good.' I had never heard any one talk like that before, and it set me thinking. After a while I said: 'Suppose you go and tell them how you feel. I will go with you in a carriage, if you want to go'.


"He consented, and we started out together. It was one of the best journeys I ever had on earth. We went to the house of one of the girls, called for her, and the teacher talked to her about her soul. There was no laughing then! Tears stood in her eyes before long. After he had explained the way of life, he suggested that we have prayer. He asked me to pray. True, I had never done such a thing in my life as to pray God to convert a young lady there and then. But we prayed, and God answered our prayer. We went to other houses. He would go upstairs, and be all out of breath, and he would tell the girls what he had come for. It wasn't long before they broke down, and sought salvation. When his strength gave out, I took him back to his lodgings. The next day we went out again. At the end of ten days he came to the store with his face literally shining. ' Mr. Moody,' he said, the last one of my class has yielded herself to Christ.' I tell you we had a time of rejoicing. He had to leave the next night, so I called his class together that night for a prayer meeting, and there God kindled a fire in my soul that has never gone out. The height of my ambition had been to be a successful merchant, and, if I had known that meeting was going to take that ambition out of me, I might not have gone. But how many times I have thanked God since for that meeting! The dying teacher sat in the midst of his class, and talked with them, and read the fourteenth chapter of John. We tried to sing 'blest be the tie that binds,' after which we knelt clown to prayer. I was just rising from my knees, when one of the class began to pray for her dying teacher. Another prayed, and another, and before we rose, the whole class had prayed. As I went out I said to myself: 'O, God, let me die rather than lose the blessing I have received to-night!'

"The next morning I went to the depot to say good-bye to that teacher. Just before the train started, one of the class came, and before long, without any pre-arrangement, they were all there. What a meeting that was! We tried to sing, but we broke down. The last we saw of that dying teacher, he was standing on the platform of the car, his finger pointing upward, telling that class to meet him in Heaven. I didn't know what this was going to cost me. I was disqualified for business; it had become distasteful to me. I had got a taste of another world, and cared no more for making money. For some days after, the greatest struggle of my life took place. Should I give up business and give myself to Christian work, or should I not? I have never regretted my choice. O, the luxury of leading some one out of the darkness of this world into the glorious light and liberty of the Gospel.


It is time to speak of Mr. Moody's marriage. There was a lady who for some years had been a helper in his Mission. His first acquaintance with her dated from that little North Side Mission Sunday school in which he was offered a class on condition that he provide his own pupils. The interest of Mr. Moody for this young lady, whose name was Miss Emma C. Revell, grew deeper and deeper, and meanwhile her interest in him developed. It would hardly be thought by the average man of affairs, that marriage was a safe step for a man who had thrown up all business and had entered upon unsalaried mission work. But Mr. Moody was living the life of trust, and the faith of Miss Revell was not less strong. They were married August 28, 1862.

They made their first home in a small cottage. A hospitable home it was, and a cheery one, and yet the little household was sometimes in great straits. Even after his marriage, Mr. Moody continued to refuse all offers of a salary. Often the family was in sight of want, but the Lord never permitted real distress. A number of instances are related of the ways in which his trust in God was honored.


A remarkable way in which the Lord remembered Mr. Moody, was by the gift of a new and completely furnished home. An old friend had erected a row of fine houses, one of which he privately set aside for Mr. Moody, free of rent, on the understanding that the evangelist's other friends would furnish it. The enterprise was taken up with enthusiasm, all unknown to Mr. Moody and his wife, and the house was fitted up comfortably. Early on a New Year's morning Mr. Moody and his family were captured and driven to the house. When they entered they were surprised to find it full of acquaintances and friends. Their surprise was turned to gratitude and joy when a spokesman of the company handed to Mr. Moody a lease of the house and the free gift of all it contained This home was not long left to them, for the great Chicago fire carried it away.

No Life of Mr. Moody would be complete without further reference to his wife, who has been his constant companion in all his sorrows and his joys. She is of a retiring disposition, and yet in that day of rewards when D. L. Moody is crowned, it is the opinion of his many friends who know whereof they speak, that Mrs. Moody will have no small share of reward.

Mr. Ira D. Sankey has said, "Amid all that has been said about what has made Mr. Moody so great a man, I want to say that one of the greatest influences of his life came from his wife. She has been the break upon an impetuous nature, and she more than any other living person is responsible for his success.


She has been more than interested in his work from the beginning. In connection with his Sunday school work in Chicago, the following incident is told: "A stranger who was visiting the Sunday school in Chicago, noticed a lady teaching a class of about forty middle-aged men, in the gallery. Looking at her and then at the class, he said to Mr. Moody, 'Is not that lady altogether too young to teach such a class of men? She seems to me very youthful for such a position.' Mr. Moody replied, 'She gets along very well, and seems to succeed in her teaching.' The stranger did not appear to be altogether satisfied. He walked about the school, evidently in an anxious state of mind. In a few moments he approached the superintendent again, and, with becoming gravity, said, 'Mr. Moody, I can not but feel that that lady must be altogether too young to instruct such a large company of men. Will you, sir, please to inform me who she is?' 'Certainly,' replied Mr. Moody, 'that is my wife.' The stranger made no more inquiries, and nothing occurred to indicate the state of his mind during the remainder of his visit.

One of the members of his family has said, "No man ever paid greater homage to his wife than Mr. Moody. I never met with a happier couple. In every way he deferred to her. She answered all his voluminous correspondence. She was the person to whom he always spoke of his plans and his work. No trouble was too great for him, if he could save her any bother or every-day, ordinary little troubles."

Mrs. Moody has done some remarkable work in the inquiry meetings held in different parts of the country. One of my dear friends is Mr. E. P. Brown, for a long time the editor of the Rams horn. I knew him in the days of his infidelity. A more bitter infidel I have never known in my life. He has told me how one night he entered the Chicago Avenue Church that he might criticise Moody in his article which he was writing for his infidel paper. Mr. Moody's sermon was on the father of the prodigal, and looking squarely into the face of my friend, he said, "My friend, the father of the prodigal is the picture of God, and as the father of the prodigal is waiting for his son, so God is waiting for you.


E. P. Brown was startled. He has since said: "I heard the theologians talk about God, and I hated Him, but I had a father and I knew what his love was, and I found myself saying, If this is the true picture of God then I would like to know Him." When the invitation was given for the inquiry meeting, E. P. Brown accepted it, and it was Mrs. Moody who gave him help which finally led him out of his darkness of unbelief and led him into the glorious light and liberty in which he now stands as a son of God.

This is but one instance. Hundreds of others might be repeated. We can quite understand, therefore, how it is that from the very day when D. L. Moody determined to give up his business to the last moment of his life when he said good-bye to his beloved wife, she was more helpful and inspiring to him than any other person in the world.

Mr. Moody's family consists of three children. William Revell Moody, his eldest child, has ever been the constant companion of his father, who relied upon him. If a father's mantle may fall upon his son's shoulders, William R. Moody in his father's purpose and plan, ought to lead in the carrying on of his great work. He is a graduate of Yale and is a consecrated Christian man with a great desire to do everything his father could wish. He is happily married to the eldest daughter of Major D. W. Whittle. It was with great pleasure that the Christian world knew that in this way these two families so greatly used of God were so happily to be brought into closer and more sacred relations. Mrs. W. R. Moody is the author of the hymn "Moment by Moment", and has been very useful in Christian service both at home and abroad.


Emma Moody Fitt, Mr. Moody's second child, was as near to him as a daughter can be to her father. The most intense affection made them one in their interests and work. She is the wife of Mr. A. I. Fitt, for some time Mr. Moody's private secretary, and latterly his valued helper in every way. I have heard Mr. Moody say again and again, "I do not know how I should get along, if it were not for Fitt." He has been the superintendent and prime mover in the colportage work in Chicago, and Mr. Moody's work in general owes much to his faithful, untiring and affectionate interest.

Paul, the second son and youngest child, is a member of the Junior Class at Yale College. An earnest, active Christian young man, he is making his life tell for Christ among the students and giving great promise of future usefulness in the world. Very many people look to him in future days largely to carry on his father's public work.

Chapter 9

Moody and Sankey
Mr. Sankey's First Singing at a Moody Meeting - A Sudden Proposition - A Street Service - Mr. Sankey joins Mr.Moody - The Effect of Mr. Sankey's Singing - A Blessed Partnership.

An International convention of the Young Men's Christian Association was held at Indianapolis in June, 1870. Mr. Moody attended. During the convention an early morning prayer. meeting was conducted in a church adjoining the hail where the convention was held. Mr. Moody led this meeting.

Ira D. Sankey, who at that time was Assistant Collector of Revenue in New Castle, Pa., but whose interest in religious work had made him an active worker in the field, had come to Indianapolis to attend the convention. He had heard of Mr. Moody, but had never seen him, and learning that the Chicago preacher was to lead this morning meeting, he yielded to a strong impulse and attended.


When Mr. Sankey entered, the singing was being led by a man who was dragging through a long metre hymn in the slow old-fashioned way. Mr. Sankey was scarcely seated when some one touched his elbow, and turning around, he discovered that he was sitting beside the Rev. Robert McMillen, with whom he happened to be well acquainted. Mr. McMillen whispered to Mr. Sankey that nobody present seemed able to put any life into the singing, adding, "When that man who is praying gets through, I wish you would start up something"

Without waiting for any further invitation, Mr. Sankey arose and sang with wonderful feeling

"There is a fountain filled with blood,
Drawn from Immanuel's veins,
And sinners plunged beneath that flood,
Lose all their guilty stains."

The power and fervor of the singer's voice was such that the congregation forgot to join in the chorus, and Mr. Sankey finished the hymn by himself.

The effect of this song was not missed by Mr. Moody. At the close of the service, when Mr. McMillen brought Mr. Sankey forward, Mr. Moody stepped to one side and took the singer by the hand. "Where do you come from?" he asked. "Pennsylvania,' replied Mr. Sankey. "Are you married or single?" "Married; I have a wife and one child." "What business are you in?" "I am a government official connected with the Internal Revenue service, answered Mr. Sankey, not realizing what motive was subjecting him to such cross-examination.


"Well," said Mr. Moody, decidedly, "you will have to give that up; I have been looking for you for eight years." Mr. Sankey stood amazed and was at a loss to understand just what Mr. Moody meant by telling him that he would have to give up a comfortable position, and he was so taken aback for a few seconds that he could scarcely reply. At last, however, recovering from his astonishment, he asked the evangelist what he meant. Mr. Moody promptly explained. "You will have to give up your government position and come with me. You are just the man I have been looking for, for a long time. I want you to come with me; you can do the singing, and I will do the talking."

The proposition did not sound particularly attractive to Mr. Sankey, and he told Mr. Moody, that he did not feel he could accept it and begged for time in which to consider the matter. Mr. Moody asked him if he would join him in prayer in regard to it, and the singer replied that he would most gladly do so. Says Mr. Sankey, "I presume I prayed one way and he prayed another; however, it took him only six months to pray me out of business." It was true that Mr. Moody was praying that Mr. Sankey would see his way clear to do as he had asked, while Mr. Sankey was arguing with himself against the proposition. This first meeting between the two men was on Sunday. All that day and night Mr. Sankey thought over Mr. Moody's words, but the next morning found him still inclined to stick to the government position with its assured salary.


Just at a moment when he was in considerable doubt as to the suitable course, a card was brought him which on examination proved to be from Mr. Moody. It requested him to meet Mr. Moody at a certain street corner that evening at six o'clock. Mr. Sankey did not know what he was wanted for, but he accepted the invitation, and, accompanied by a few friends, met the appointment promptly. In a few minutes Mr. Moody appeared, and without stopping to speak, walked into a store on the corner and asked permission to use a dry-goods box. The permission granted, the evangelist rolled a large box out to the edge of the sidewalk, and then calling Mr. Sankey aside asked him to climb up and sing something. Mr. Sankey complied. A crowd began to collect, and Mr. Moody getting upon the box began to preach. Mr. Sankey says of that sermon, "He preached that evening as I had never heard any man preach before." The hearers, most of them workingmen on their way home from the mills and factories, were electrified. They hung on every word, apparently forgetting that they were tired and hungry, and when Mr. Moody closed, which he was forced to do by the density of the crowd, he announced that he would hold another meeting at the Academy of Music, and invited the crowd to accompany him there. Arm in arm with Mr. Moody, Mr. Sankey marched down the street singing hymn after hymn as he went, the crowd following closely at their heels. Mr. Sankey has since declared that this was his first experience in Salvation Army methods. The meeting in the Academy of Music was necessarily brief because the convention was soon to come together, oddly enough to discuss the question, "How shall we reach the masses?" and as the delegates came in Mr. Moody, with a short prayer dismissed the meeting.


Although deeply affected by the power of Mr. Moody's inspiring message, Mr. Sankey was still undecided. He went home to talk the matter over with his wife, and to her the proposed partnership seemed, at that time, an unwarranted and injudicious step, but after several months, the influence of Mr. Moody's invitation still working in him, he went by request to Chicago and spent a week with Mr. Moody. For several days they worked together in church, in Sunday school, in saloons and drinking dens, joining their gifts of speaking and singing to bring light to the discouraged and the sinful. When the week was over, Mr. Sankey had decided. He sent his resignation to Hugh McCulloch, who at that time was Secretary of the Treasury; another veteran of the War was given his place in the Internal Revenue Service, and Mr. Sankey joined forces with Mr. Moody.

This was about six months before the great Chicago fire. When that tidal wave of flame overwhelmed that part of Chicago where Mr. Moody's work was especially located, and destroyed his church and his home, the evangelist's plans were for a time completely disarranged, and he went for a tour in the Eastern States, while Mr. Sankey returned to his home in Pennsylvania. But when the new tabernacle sprang from the ashes of the old, the two brethren once more began their labours, taking up their lodgings in anterooms of the great rough building, and throwing themselves heart and soul into the effort to bring the unfortunate people to Christ. This work in the rough chapel among the ruins was signalized by a great revival. While Mr. Moodly was on his second visit to Great Britain in 1872, Mr. Sankey took charge of the meetings. Mr. Moody had gone more especially to attend the Mildmay Conference in London. When he returned, he found that Mr. Sankey had received an especial baptism of the Holy Spirit, and that the blessings of his work had been increased a thousand fold by the responsibilities which had been left with him.


It was about this time, possibly under the influence of this second trip to England, that Mr. Moody decided upon that third tour which was to bring to Great Britain a spiritual regeneration such as had not been known since the days of John Wesley. Mr. Moody said to his co-worker, "You have often proposed that we make an evangelizing journey together; now let us go to England."

Again Mr. Sankey found himself in some doubt as to his proper decision. It happened that he was then considering an offer from Mr. Phillips to go to the Pacific Coast and give a series of "Evenings of Song." Fortunately he again decided to follow Mr. Moody. Possibly he was influenced in his decision by a realization that if he went with Mr. Phillips he would be associated with a man whose gifts were similar to his own, a condition which might lead to difficulties, while if he went with Mr. Moody he would have his own work to do entirely separate from the work of Mr. Moody, although complementary to it. So attended by his little family, he trustfully set forth with Mr. Moody and his family, June 7, 1873, on a journey of four thousand miles.

The joyful, prayerful singing of the Gospel hymns by Mr. Sankey was a revelation of unexpected truth and grace to the people of the British Isles. In Scotland especially, the masses were moved by him. With an indescribable impulse, the cautious, distrustful followers of John Knox, worshippers who for generations had been accustomed to reject as uninspired all other services of praise than their own rude version of the Psalms, now listened with delight to the music which fell like a blessing from the lips of the most gifted Christian singer of the time.


One of his hearers has thus described the impression made by Mr. Sankey's singing in Edinburgh. " Mr. Sankey sings with the conviction that souls are receiving Jesus between one note and the next. The stillness is overawing; some of the lines are more spoken than sung. The hymns are equally used for awakening, none more than 'Jesus of Nazareth Passeth By'. When you hear the ' Ninety and Nine 'sung, you know of a truth that down in this corner, up in that gallery, behind that pillar which hides the singer' s face from the listener, the hand of Jesus has been finding this and that and yonder lost one to place them in His fold. A certain class of hearers come to the services solely to hear Mr. Sankey, and the song draws the Lord's net around them. We asked Mr. Sankey one day what he was to sing. He said, 'I'll not know till I hear how Mr. Moody is closing.' Again we were driving to the Canongate Parish Church one winter night, and Mr. Sankey said to the young minister who had come for him, ' I am thinking of singing' 'I am so Glad to-night.' 'O said the young man, please rather sing 'Jesus of Nazareth.' An old man told me to-day that he had been awakened by it the last night you were down. He said, 'It just went through me like an electric shock.' A gentleman in Edinburgh was in distress of soul, and happened to linger in a pew after. the noon meeting. The choir had remained to practice and began, 'Free from the Law, O, Happy Condition.' Quickly the Spirit of God carried the truth home to the awakened conscience, and he was at last in the finished work of Jesus.


Mr. Sankey's hymns were gathered from a hundred sources. A great many of them are to-day known by every child in the land and are remembered by many other persons as means of grace in their own conversions. Of all his songs the favorite was, "The Ninety and Nine". This beautiful hymn has an interesting little history.

While Mr. Moody and Mr. Sankey were in the Highlands of Scotland they were subjected to some criticisms because Mr. Sankey's music was so much of a deviation from the established music of the Scotch churches. Anxious not to offend the prejudices of any in the multitudes whom they were meeting, Mr. Sankey cast about him for a song which might satisfy not only the hearts, but the ears as well of the rough shepherds of the Highlands. One day in the corner of a newspaper he found the words of "The Ninety and Nine ". They had originally been printed in The Christian, of Boston, Mass., and were reprinted in England in The Rock. The melody came to him like an inspiration. The first time he sang it, it was not even written out. It is natural that a song like this should have appealed to the shepherds of Scot1and to whom its sentiment came with an especially pleasing force. It became their favorite among Mr. Sankey's songs. and when he went to Ireland and England it was called for more, and appreciated more, than any other song in his collection.

It was also said of the results of Mr. Sankey's singing, "The wave of sacred song has spread over Ireland and is now sweeping through England, but indeed it is not being confined to the United Kingdom alone. Far away on the shores of India, and in many other lands, these sweet songs of the Saviour's love are being sung."


It was not alone the novelty of his method that aroused interest in Mr. Sankey's songs to such a high degree. He possessed a voice of unusual purity and strength, and even when facing a great congregation of seventeen or eighteen thousand people, could make every word which he uttered so distinct that it was heard on the very outskirts of the throng. His vocal method has been criticised, undoubtedly with justice, but it can be said that, whether his method was correct or incorrect artistically, it was at least effective. Patti at her best could not move hearers with her singing in the way that Mr. Sankey won the hearts of his audiences. He literally, as he himself proclaimed, "sang the Gospel".

This phrase, novel as it was, was criticised by many staid conservatives in the matter of religion, but its truth cannot be questioned. If it were not true how could it have been that so many should have been led to Christ through the influence of that marvellous singing. An English journal has told of a little girl only ten years old who had listened with delight to Mr. Sankey's singing. "O!" she said "How I love those dear hymns! When I am gone, mother, will you ask the girls of the school to sing the hymn.

'Ring the bells of Heaven
There is joy to-day,
For a soul returning from the wild;
See the Father meets him out upon the way,
Welcoming his weary, wandering child.'

The night before her death, she said, "Dear father and mother, I hope I shall meet you in Heaven. You cannot think how bright and happy I feel," and half an hour before her departure she exclaimed, "O! mother, listen to the bells of Heaven, they are ringing so beautifully." She closed her eyes awhile, but presently she cried again, "Hearken to the harps, they are most splendid; O! I wish you could bear them," and then, " O! mother, I see the Lord Jesus and the angels. O, if you could see them too! He is sending one to fetch me!" About five minutes before her last breath she said, "Lift me up from the pillow; high, high up! O! I wish you could lift me right up into Heaven! "Then doubtless conscious that the parting moment was at hand, "Put me down again, quick," and calmly, joyously, brightly, with her eyes upward, as if gazing upon some vision of surpassing beauty, she peacefully breathed forth her spirit into the arms of the ministering angels whom Jesus had sent for her, How can we measure what the voice of the singer had done for that little girl.


An innovation in Mr. Sankey's singing was the use of the parlor organ to accompany himself. Wherever he went this little instrument was placed upon the platform for his use, and it is doubtful if he could have found anything more effective for his accompaniment. Criticised it was, for, like "singing the Gospel," it was a novelty in religious work and, therefore, was frowned upon by those who felt that established methods should never be violated. It was even charged that he had been sent to England by a firm of organ makers who paid him a large salary on the condition that he use their organs in his services. This charge was denied both by the organ makers and by Mr. Sankey, and it does not seem likely that a man, who by agreement with Mr. Moody, turned over a fortune in royalties on books of song to charitable and religious purposes would stoop to accept such an unworthy tribute.

At a children's meeting in Edinburgh in 1874, Mr. Sankey related the following incident: "I want to speak a word about singing, not only to the little folks, but also to grown people. During the winter after the great Chicago fire, when the place was 'built up with little frame houses for the poor people to stay in, a mother sent for me one day to come to see her little child, who was one of our Sunday school pupils. I remembered the little girl very well, having often seen her in our meetings, and was glad to go.


She was lying in one of the poor little huts, all the property of the family having been destroyed by the fire. I ascertained that she was beyond all hopes of recovery, and that they were waiting for the little one to pass away. 'How is it with you to-day?' I asked. With a beautiful smile on her face, she said, 'It is all well with me to-day. I wish you would speak to my father and mother.' 'But,' said I, 'are you a Christian?' 'Yes.' 'When did you become one?' Do you remember last Thursday in the Tabernacle when we had that little Singing meeting, and you sang, 'Jesus Loves Even Me?' 'Yes.' 'It was last Thursday I believed on the Lord Jesus, and now I am going to be with Him to-day.' That testimony from that little girl in that neglected quarter of Chicago has done more to stimulate me and to bring me to this country than all that the papers or any persons might say. I remember the joy I felt when I looked upon that beautiful child face. She went up to Heaven, and no doubt said that she learned upon earth that Jesus loved her, from that little hymn. If you want to enjoy a blessing, go to the couches of the bedridden and dying ones, and sing to them of Jesus, for they cannot enjoy these meetings as you do, and you will get a great blessing to your own soul."

A story is told of a young Highlander who had lived far from the Lord for so long that his pastor had come to believe that the truth could not touch him, but one day he was found deeply awakened. When asked what had brought about this change in his feelings he said that it was the result of hearing his little sister sing

"When He cometh, when He cometh
To make up His Jewels.

During the great revival in Scotland, a certain writer said, Perhaps not a week has passed during the last year in which we have not had evidence that the Lord had directly used a line of one of these hymns in the salvation of some soul."


Mr. Moody's preaching, Mr. Sankey's singing - how indissolubly these two are associated in the minds of millions of people! And how wonderful were the spiritual returns that this partnership brought! Often Mr. Moody's words would bring a sinner to the point of conviction, and then the tender pathos of Mr. Sankey's singing would let a great flood of blessing into that sinner's soul, and the softening influences would work until he would cry out in his joy, "I am saved!" And, on the other hand, when a meeting had just begun, and away back in the farthest corners men were sitting who had come in a scoffing mood, or out of curiosity, to hear the evangelists, the preliminary song of Mr. Sankey would rouse the attention of those persons, and they would try to get nearer the platform, and by the time Mr. Moody was ready to speak, they would have forgotten why they had come, in their eagerness to hear the preacher's message.

Mr. Sankey's singing was as direct in its appeal to the individual as Mr. Moody's speaking. Their was no sentimental clap-trap about either, in spite of. the charge which we have frequently heard to that effect against the "Gospel hymns". Music, of all the arts, is now in the highest development. John Addington Symonds in his story of the Renaissance tells us that the form of art in which any given generation finds the most perfect expression for its ideals of beauty depends upon the nature of the religious feeling of that generation, Thus, the mysticism of the mediaeval Church was typified in the symbolism, the lofty aspiration of Gothic architecture; the rich formalism, the sensuous comprehensiveness of the Church of Rome in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries established the ideals and led to the feelings which were spread in glowing colors upon the canvasses of the greatest painters the world has ever known; while, in present times, the development of religious life to a plane of lofty hope, brotherly love, and a consciousness of salvation has found its highest expression in music.


Music comes from the heart in a way that words cannot; there are times when its appeal is resistless, and so, for nearly thirty years, to the sound sense of Mr. Moody's words, illumined as they were by the reflection of a great heart, was added the appeal of Mr. Sankey's song. Surely this partnership was blessed beyond our comprehension.

It has been wonderful the way Mr. Sankey's song has been carried beyond the mere locality of utterance. An illustration of the way in which it heralded and accompanied the Gospel message as sent out from the words of his brother evangelist is found in the letter of a traveler who was going from England to France in 1875. "It has been perfectly delightful," he says "to find traces of the work everywhere. While waiting at I heard a porter filling the whole station with the 'Sweet Bye and Bye.' As he came up to my carriage, I was struck with his bright, cheery face and spoke to him. The man's face glowed when he talked of Mr. Moody and Mr. Sankey.

Sunday afternoon at______, I was alone in the reading room and began to sing to myself one of 'the hymns'. Presently the door creaked, and on looking up I saw that a whole bevy of maids had gathered and were listening attentively, it was so unlike what foreign servants would do, I felt sure that they must be English, and I knew that if I moved they would run away, so I sang on as if I had not seen them. Then an old gentleman came in, and on my stopping, said, ' O! don't stop, but please sing 'The Home Over There'. He went on to tell that he had been sitting gloomily in his room when he heard a Sankey hymn. How one is taught every day that one's 'times' are not in ones own hands! I wanted to sing for my own selfish gratification; but I was shamed by being shown how it might be used, for others came in after, and a band of us sang 'Hold the Fort', a specially necessary command it seems when travelling abroad."

Chapter 10

Evangelistic Work in England, Ireland and Scotland
The Discouraging Outlook - Sunderland - Revival Fire Kindled at Newcastle - Edinburgh - The Work in Scotland Continued - The Evangelists go to Ireland - The Return to England - Various Meetings - The London Revival.

When Mr. Moody arrived at Liverpool, June 27, 1873, he set foot upon English soil for the third time. His former trips had been brief; now he had come with a determination "to win ten thousand souls for Christ." The first word received on landing 'was disappointing. He learned that the two friends who had invited him to England, the Rev. Mr. Pennefather, rector of the Mildmay Park Church, in London, and Mr. Cuthbert Bainbridge, an eminent Wesleyan layman, had recently died. A third invitation had been given by Mr. George Bennett, Secretary of the Young Men's Christian Association in York.


Mr. Moody telegraphed to Mr. Bennett announcing his arrival and readiness to begin work, but the reply stated that there was so little religious warmth in York that it would take at least a month to get ready for the meetings. Mr. Moody, however, was not afraid of the prevalent spiritual frost. He telegraphed to his friend, "I will be in York to-night," and at 10 o'clock in the evening arrived in that city, unheralded and unknown.

The outlook was not encouraging, but Mr. Moody sent for Mr. Sankey, who had gone from Liverpool to Manchester, and the meetings began at once. Only eight persons attended the first meeting. The other meetings on this first Sunday betrayed a somewhat wider interest, but during the following week the congregations were very small indeed. The second week was marked by some improvement, and before the month was over, in spite of the coldness manifested by the ministers of the place, the work had made a considerable impression. The inquiry meetings were an innovation in English services, but they grew in favour and became more and more an important instrument of spiritual success. The number of converts at York was in the neighbourhood of two hundred. The work closed with an all-day meeting, beginning with an hour for conversation and prayer and continued with an hour for praise, a promise meeting, a witness meeting, a Bible lecture by Mr. Moody, and finally a communion service. The meetings were chiefly held in chapels, the evangelist preferring not to go to public halls for fear of seeming to neglect the regularly established forms of worship.


After attending some of Mr. Moody's meetings at York, the Rev. Arthur Rees, a liberal Baptist clergyman of Sunderland, invited the American evangelists to come and help him in his work. Accordingly Mr. Moody and Mr. Sankey began meetings in Mr. Rees' chapel, Sunday, July 27th. Here, as at York, coldness had to be dealt with, and moreover the evangelists had been heralded from the scene of their first labours by criticism rather than by praise. Still from the first large congregations attended the meetings, although there is little doubt that the early motive of attendance was curiosity.

Gradually the people of Sunderland awoke. In order to avoid the appearance of sectarianism, Mr. Moody had the meetings removed to the Victoria Hall, though overflow meetings were generally conducted in various chapels.

Even after the power of the Spirit took hold of the people of Sunderland, ministerial criticism of the evangelists' course increased, but Mr. Moody was not without friends. None of the attacks troubled him so long as the Holy Spirit was manifested in the meetings and people were being converted. At the close of the month the results were not what lie had hoped for, but it is interesting to note that long after the evangelists had left, and when news of the great work of God through them in Scotland came back to Sunderland, the city was stirred profoundly, and moved to genuine revival power.


By invitation of the Rev. David Lowe, Mr. Moody went from Sunderland to Newcastle-upon-Tyne, spending a few days in Jarrow on the way. He was greeted at Newcastle by Mr. Thomas Bainbridge, a brother of one of the friends who had invited him to England.

At Newcastle the fire was kindled which was to mightily move Great Britain. Ministerial opposition was overcome, five of the principal chapels of the town being offered for the services. Mr. Moody accepted the use of the Rye Hill Baptist Chapel, a large edifice, and within a fortnight crowds were turned away for want of room. All the neighbouring towns and villages felt the spiritual impulse, and in response to requests hundreds of meetings were held outside the city by multiplying assistants of the evangelist.

Mr. Moody, in order to prevent the exclusion of the unconverted by the crowds of Christians who attended the meetings, now began to divide his congregations into classes, giving tickets of admission to the various services. Meetings for merchants were held in the Assembly Hall; meetings for mechanics were held at the Tyne Theatre, and in each instance the size of the crowds usually necessitated three or four overflow meetings.

The name and residence of every inquirer was made a matter of record, and in order that assistants in the inquiry room should be more fitted to the purpose, tickets were issued to clergymen and other men of practical experience in Christian work, that they might help in the great work of leading souls to Christ. At first most of the conversions were among the educated classes, but afterward the work became more general. The noon prayer meetings which had been commenced previous to the arrival of Mr. Moody, by way of preparation had grown to remarkable proportions, while Mr. Moody's afternoon Bible readings drew even from the ranks of busy merchants and professional men. Two whole-day meetings or conferences were held. During the last week of the meetings, the Jubilee Singers began their connection with the work.

As a result of this month's work, hundreds of converts were received into the churches, and the whole North of England was aroused. Scores of Christian workers were sent out to carry the good tidings to the remoter districts, and the stimulus to the various churches proved unprecedented. Mr. Moody and Mr. Sankey now moved toward Scotland, holding on the way brief, though successful, series of meetings in a number of small cities.


To understand the influence of the labours of Mr. Moody and Mr. Sankey in Scotland, it is important to know something of the rise and progress of her Christian character. This takes us back to the Reformation, to the Christian organisation of John Knox. In all subsequent struggles Scotland realised that the work of the Reformers had had much to do in fostering the zeal and spiritual independence for which her people were ever distinguished. Down to the close of the last century the light of the Reformation shone clearly, but an eclipse came, and it was not until the appearance of the brothers James and Robert Haldane that the sun again burst forth. These men, with Mr. Simeon, an evangelical clergyman of Cambridge, were Scotland's first great evangelists. In ten years they established more than one hundred independent churches, providing also for the training of ministers. The next era was the disruption of the Church of Scotland in 1843. This, strangely enough, proved to be the beginning of Christian union, for non-conformist brethren offered to the ministers who had given up their livings and entered the Free Church of Scotland the use of their churches for half of every Sunday. Thenceforward there was one body in Christian work.

Mr. Moody's meetings commenced late in November in the Free Church Assembly Hall. From the first no place in Edinburgh could contain the crowds. Three or four of the largest halls and churches were constantly in use, and even then it was necessary to come to the place of meeting an hour or two before the appointed time in order to be sure of admittance. The converts were numbered by thousands. The awakening among the nominal church members could hardly be described. As an example of the thoroughness of the work it is stated that at one meeting, composed of sixty-six young men, sixty were converted before they left the place.

The watch-night meeting, which closed the year 1873, was perhaps the most remarkable service that had ever been held in Edinburgh. For five full hours a great audience, many of them obliged to stand, praised God and gave their testimony to the work of His saving grace in them. The Christian Conference on January 4th was attended by about 150 ministers; such a meeting had never been seen in Edinburgh before. The farewell meeting was held in the fields on the slope of Arthur's Seat, there being no building which could accommodate the multitudes who wished to join in the last service of their brethren from America. As a result of the work in Edinburgh fully 3,000 persons were received into the churches.


From Edinburgh Mr. Moody went to Dundee, January 21st, and for several weeks the visitations with which the Holy Spirit had blessed other cities came to this old stronghold of Scottish faith.

The meetings began at Glasgow on February 8th. Three thousand Sunday-school teachers surrounded the evangelists in the City Hall at the first meeting. An hour before the time for the services such a crowd had assembled that four large churches in the neighbourhood were filled by the overflow. Mr. Moody had been in Glasgow in 1872, when he had attracted no attention; now from the start the revival work exhibited a power almost unparalleled. The Glasgow noon prayer meeting had been commenced during the week of prayer for Scotland, which was held in Edinburgh a month before the evangelists went to Glasgow. This preparation was not in vain.

At first, church-going people were affected. Then the hand of God touched the great masses of the population who were without the fold. Meetings were held in the streets and squares of the city; fathers and mothers met to pray for the conversion of their children; children's meetings were also held. The great conference of Christian workers at the Kibble Crystal Palace in the Botanic Gardens, April 16, renewed the vigour of all departments of home missionary work in Scotland.

The last meetings were the greatest of all. Going to the evening service the carriage of Mr. Moody was almost blocked by the dense throngs which surrounded the Crystal Palace, and, seeing the multitudes, the evangelist determined to preach from the carriage, as there were more without the building than within. Those inside the palace, learning of the change of program, immediately joined the throng outside, and the service which followed was one of wonderful effect. At the close of the discourse, Mr. Moody invited inquirers to meet him at the palace, and this great audience hall was filled. Large numbers gave themselves to Christ. It was at Glasgow that Henry Drummond was drawn to this great evangelistic movement.

While in Glasgow the evangelists made several brief excursions to neighbouring cities.


About the middle of May, Mr. Moody and Mr. Sankey, after a three days' visit to Edinburgh, went northward through Scotland, stopping in Perth, Montrose, Aberdeen, Inverness, and in some other towns. To the very end of Scotland, to John'-o'-Groat's house, the evangelists went, meeting crowds of people at every shopping place, and holding service after service, generally in the open air. At Aberdeen 12,000 to 20,000 people attended the outdoor services; at Inverness the meetings were held at the time of the annual wool fair, and many were reached who had been spending their lives beyond the reach of the churches. On returning from the north, farewell meetings were held in some of the places where the evangelists had laboured.


Mr. Moody and Mr. Sankey had received invitations from many different quarters, and they now decided prayerfully that the greatest opportunity before them lay in Ireland. Accordingly they bade good-bye to Scotland, and on September 6th, held the first meeting in Belfast, at Dougal Square Chapel. The second meeting was held in a larger church, while the evening meeting was adjourned to a still larger place of worship, with seating capacity for about two thousand persons, which was only about one-quarter of those who tried to gain admission. In fact, in Ireland the attendance upon the meetings was but a repetition of the crowded following which had sought to come under the spell of the American workers in Scotland. On Monday a noon prayer meeting was commenced, and that, too, had to be adjourned to a larger building. It became necessary here, as in Scotland, to divide the audiences, so that men's meetings, women's meetings etc., etc., were held. There were several great open air meetings. On one occasion two hundred young men gave themselves to Christ.

The evangelists had been invited to Londonderry by a committee of the Young Men's Christian Association, and there they went for four days, beginning October 11th, holding a number of notable meetings and returning to Belfast on the 15th, to hold their farewell services there. The final inquiry meeting at Belfast was attended by about 2,400 persons, admitted by ticket; 2,150 converts' tickets were given before the close of the evening service.


The difficulty of finding a place large enough for the meetings had led Mr. Moody to name to the brethren at Dublin, as a condition of his coming, the engagement of the Exhibition Palace. This condition was met; the Palace was engaged, and on October 24th, Mr. Moody and Mr. Sankey arrived in the Irish capital.

There were in Dublin only about 40,000 Protestants, out of a population of 250,000, but the denominational line was frequently crossed by the work of the evangelists. Indeed, so deep was the encroachment of the revival upon the Roman Catholic population, that Cardinal Cullen felt himself called upon to interdict the attendance of his flock upon the Protestant meetings. In spite of this, many Roman Catholics were converted. Mr. Moody was unable to see why the line between Roman Catholicism and Protestantism should be observed in his work any more than the lines between different Protestant denominations. The fact that a man had a soul to save was a sufficient call to enlist his energies.

At Dublin, the Bible readings were, perhaps, valued more than any other of the services. One unique meeting was held for the soldiers of the garrison of Curragh, who attended in large numbers and were won by the stories and the earnest logic of the speaker. An organised society of Atheists tried their hand at opposing Mr. Moody by introducing their members into the inquiry meetings, but the scheme was discovered, and the intruders were not allowed to enter into debate or useless conversation.

The thoroughness with which the hearts of the Irish people were touched was evidenced by their liberality in providing funds to meet the expenses of the meetings. £1,500 were required, and 5,000 or 6,000 of the leading citizens of Dublin were invited by circular to contribute. There were only two instances of personal solicitation, but the money came in so rapidly that it was difficult to keep track of it. Mr. Moody and Mr. Sankey did not work for pay; they took whatever the Committees on Finance in the various cities where they were conducting services regarded as a suitable renumeration, - this in spite of the inevitable criticism made by opponents of the movement that the evangelists were "in the business for the money they could get out of it".

Dublin was merely the centre of the revival interest. All over Ireland the spell was so powerful that the mere announcement in a village that some man who had been to the Dublin services would tell what he had seen there, was sufficient to draw a great crowd. The meetings closed on November 29th, after a conference of three days, which was attended by about 800 ministers. The meeting for converts on the second day of the conference called together about 2,000 persons. When their labors ended, Mr. Moody and Mr. Sankey went once more to England, this time not unheralded.

In Ireland, as in Scotland, the spirit which they had aroused continued to manifest itself in many increasing results.


The first meetings of the new campaign in England, were held at Manchester. Within a week it was said, "Manchester is now on fire." The services here were not marked so much by that joyful spirit which had characterised the evangelism of Scotland and Ireland, as by a solemn earnestness, and the influence of the meetings proper was extended in a great many practical ways throughout the city and its environs.

An important result in Manchester was the impulse given by Mr. Moody to the Young Men's Christian Association movement. He held one meeting after which a large collection was given toward a new building for the Association, and this sum proved the nucleus of more than £30,000 which was ultimately raised for the purpose. Nearly 500 names were added to the roll of active members of the Association.


Meetings were held in Sheffield, beginning on the night of December 31, 1874. It was not easy to arouse the unimpressible metal workers of Sheffield, and at first considerable disappointment was felt in the results of the services, but it was not long before the power of the evangelists' message became manifest.

Leaving Sheffield thoroughly awakened, Mr. Moody and Mr. Sankey went to Birmingham where their meetings began on January 17th, in the Town Hall with its seating capacity for 5,000 persons. In the evening the services were held in Bingley Hall, a great enclosed area which was customarily engaged for the annual cattle show. In spite of its accommodations for 10,000 or 12,000 persons, the immense building was thronged every evening, an hour before the time of service. The conference with which the Birmingham meetings closed was attended by ministers from all parts of Great Britain. After the departure of the "brethren from America", the work of grace continued just as it had in every city which they had visited.


Mr. Moody came to Liverpool as an old friend. As the city contained no hall large enough for his purposes, an immense temporary structure, called the Victoria Hall, had been erected. It held about 10,000 persons, and the expense of building it was met by voluntary contributions, no direct solicitation being made. This was the first hall erected during the campaign especially for revival services At the first meeting two-thirds of the congregation were young men. The noon prayer meeting was sometimes attended by 5,000 Or 6,000 persons. Eighteen services were held each week in the Victoria Hall, and the Gospel was also carried into the streets and byways, and missionary services were held in warerooms and in stables, as well as in the open.

It was during one of the Liverpool meetings, that Mr. Moody gave a remarkable exhibition of his organising abilities. A great meeting was being held and the theme for discussion was, "How to reach the masses". One the speakers expressed the opinion the chief want of the masses in Liverpool was the institution of cheap houses of refreshment of counteract the saloons. When he had finished, Mr. Moody asked him to continue speaking for ten minutes longer, and no sooner was this time up when Mr. Moody sprang to his feet and announced that a company had been formed to carry out the objects the speaker had advocated; that various gentlemen had taken 1,000 shares of £1 each, and the subscription list would be open until the end of the meeting. The capital was gathered before adjournment, and the company was soon floated, being known as the "The British Workmen Company, Limited". It has not only worked a revolution in Liverpool, but has paid a handsome dividend as well.

During the month at Liverpool, the number of persons converted, or awakened, ran into the thousands. The inquiry rooms were invariably crowded.


"If I come to London," Mr. Moody had said, "you will need to raise £5,000 for expenses of halls, advertising, etc." "We have £10,000 already," was the reply. This shows the spirit in which the efforts of Mr. Moody and Mr. Sankey in the Metropolis of the world were anticipated. The work of preparation had been carried on by able committees. Preliminary daily prayer meetings were crowded.

It was decided to attack the city in the four quarters. The meetings began in the north and were held in the great Agricultural Hall. The congregations in this immense structure averaged during the first week about 18,000 persons, but it was impossible to make so large a number hear the preaching, and the size was reduced, by means of temporary partitions, to the capacity of about 14,000, and even then it was constantly overcrowded. The inquiry meetings were held in St. Mary's Hall, but so great was the curious crowd, which blocked the adjacent streets, that it was found advisable to remove these meetings to one of the galleries of the Agricultural Hall itself.

The services were managed by a committee, with the assistance of seventy or eighty ushers. Interest increased weekly. Sometimes 400 or 500 persons at one time would be conversing in the inquirers galleries about the salvation of their souls. As in other places, the work began with the better classes, and was afterward extended to the slums.

The campaign in the East End, which began five weeks after the meetings in the North End, centred in Bow Road Hall, built especially for the services, and designed to hold an audience of 10,000 persons. Overflow meetings were held in a large tent near the building.

In the West End the services were held in the Royal Opera House, where many thousands thronged the three or four different meetings which were held each day. For several weeks Mr. Moody divided his attention between the Opera House and the Bow Road Hall.

It was at this time that the controversy arose regarding the meetings at Eton. The patrons of the famous college which is situated in that little town, did not wish their sons subjected to irregular religious influence, and the matter was even taken up by the House of Lords. The evangelists had been invited by a large majority of the students in the college, but pressure in high quarters made it inadvisable to accept the invitation in its full intent. A meeting was held in the private grounds of a gentleman at Eton, and there Mr. Moody preached to about two hundred of the college boys, and two or three times as many citizens of the town.

In conducting the meetings in South London, a new hail, erected for them near Camberwell Green, was occupied by the evangelists. This structure seated about 8,000 persons. Here the chief interest centred in the inquiry room, where the spirit was as earnest and as deep as it had been in the other quarters of the city. When Mr. Moody and Mr. Sankey discontinued services in one of the four quarters of the city, the meetings were continued by others, and the fire which God had permitted the two evangelists to kindle was not suffered to die out. The final service was held July 12th, the evangelists having conducted 285 meetings in London, and having addressed fully 2,500,000 persons. Mr. Moody and Mr. Sankey hastily withdrew at the conclusion of this last service, rather than face the ordeal of parting with so many dear friends. This was ever Mr. Moody's custom.

The last meeting in England was held in Liverpool, and on October 6th, attended by many loving prayers, Mr. Moody and Mr. Sankey set sail toward the West, arriving in New York eight days later.


Lecky, the historian, calmly and dispassionately asserts that the evangelistic labors of John Wesley and his co-workers, by lifting the moral tone of the common people, saved England from a revolution. Mr. Moody may not have served as an instrument for the accomplishment of so deep an economic purpose, but it is certain that the regenerating springs of spiritual life, which God used him to draw from the rock of indifference, refreshed and revived a people fast tending to religious numbness. And nothing is so dangerous as this apathetic numbness; it has done more to hinder the progress of salvation than all the active forces of the devil put together.

I am not prepared to deny that many who were awakened or converted during Mr. Moody's labours in Great Britain went back to their former walks soon after the immediate presence of the evangelists ceased to be felt; nor will I deny that much of the work inspired by his efforts crystallised into conventional and narrow forms; but I believe from the bottom of my heart that the movement blessed Britain as she had not before been blessed for one hundred years, and I know that tens of thousands of persons became better men and women for the effect of Mr. Moody's words upon them. Through this man God led men to read their Bibles, to live honestly, to rid themselves of besetting sins, and to place their faith in Christ as a personal Saviour.

Chapter 11

Evangelistic in the United States
The Gospel Campaign in Brooklyn - The Campaign in Philadelphia The Great Meetings in New York - Glorious Enthusiasm for the Lord - In Baltimore, 1878.

On his return from Great Britain, Mr. Moody went to Northfield, there to spend some little time resting at his old home and enjoying the companionship of his relatives. It was be readily understood that although he had gone from the United States two years before known to very few, .the wonderful results of his labors in Great Britain had made his name a household word, and his fellow-countrymen awaited his active work in this country not only with curiosity (which it must be admitted was felt by a large body of unbelievers and indifferent ones) but also, many of them, with a deep conviction that the Lord had raised him up to lead the people in a great religious awakening.


The Gospel campaign in the United States began at Brooklyn, on Sunday, October 24, 1875. The skating rink on Clarmont Avenue, with its seating capacity of six thousand, was secured for the use of the services. Preliminary work had been conducted in Brooklyn according to the system which Mr. Moody invariably insisted upon, so that when he took up the work in person, almost everything was already in full swing. A chorus of two hundred and fifty voices had been organized to lead the music. Interest accumulated with the progress of the services, and the size of the audiences uniformly increased. Nothing in secular affairs seemed capable of drawing off the public attention, not even an exciting election, with its public meetings and torchlight processions. The very first meetings brought together enormous crowds.

These audiences, it was surmised, might hare been attracted by curiosity; but the novelty soon wore off, and yet the weekday meetings at 8 A.M. and 7.30 P.M., overflowed and had to be accommodated in neighboring churches. The "overflow" meetings continued as a feature of the work until the last. In the second week, a woman's prayer meeting followed the morning service, and a Bible reading was held in the afternoon, beside the regular evening meeting. These additional gatherings were almost as largely attended as the others. To all of these was added a young men's meeting held at night after the evening service to accommodate the clerks and other persons detained by business during the earlier hours, and inquiry meetings were also held in the adjoining churches. Still there was no falling off in the crowds who could not find even standing room.


It is difficult to estimate the numbers who attended during the meetings. Counting in the overflow meetings the audiences must have included, especially toward the last, from fifteen thousand to twenty thousand per day. Perhaps a higher estimate would be nearer the fact. As in Great Britain, different expedients were employed to change the class attendance, - expedients which would have been fatal to a less absorbing interest. To many of the meetings in the Rink church-goers were not invited; indeed they were asked to stay away, and admission was procurable only on the statement that a ticket was to be used by some unconverted person. The different appearance of the audiences on successive nights was fair evidence that they were not composed of the same people.

The effect of the Brooklyn meetings was an awakening rather than a great conversion of non-church-goers, and prepared the churches for greater activity. As in England, the first work of the evangelists fell somewhat short of that which was to follow. No attempt was made to record the number of conversions, although they were by no means few. A feature of the work was the hearty and undivided support of the churches; at one prayer meeting nearly one hundred ministers were present.

During these meetings Mr. Moody sounded the keynote of his theory, if such it may be called, of bringing about a great religious awakening. He said to Henry Ward Beecher, "There is no use attempting to make a deep and lasting effect on masses of people, but every effort should be put forth on the individual."

The meetings closed November 19th. At the final service the building was crowded almost beyond its limit, while the streets were filled with thousands of persons who were disappointed in their endeavor to get in.


From Brooklyn Mr. Moody and Mr. Sankey went to Philadelphia and began their meetings in the old Pennsylvania Railroad depot at Thirteenth and Market Streets, now occupied by Mr. John Wanamaker as a, great mercantile establishment.

The depot was situated in a dull and uninviting neighborhood, comparatively deserted by night, and not very well lighted, and when the suggestion was made that the property might be temporarily renovated for an auditorium until the railroad company should find a purchaser for it, there was considerable derision; but President Scott, of the Pennsylvania Railroad, had a hearty and large way of doing things, and he told the men who were giving their interest to the proposed meetings, that they could have the use of the property at the rate of one dollar per year, provided they were ready to get out at a month's notice when the company should effect a sale. It happened, however, that just about this time a Philadelphia merchant, Mr. Wanamaker, was laying plans to develop his business on a broader scale. He made the Pennsylvania Railroad Company an offer for the old depot, and became its purchaser; but, before proceeding to occupy it, he consented that the interior should be reconstructed temporarily for the revival services, of which he had been one of the chief projectors.


About forty thousand dollars was spent in reconstruction and equipment of the building. Chairs were provided for about ten thousand persons, which leaves out of count the space upon the platform occupied by a chorus of six hundred singers. The expenses were met by voluntary contributions. Three hundred Christians were chosen to act as ushers while a like number of workers were selected to serve in the three inquiry rooms. The original intention had been to engage the Academy of Music, but this was overruled in favor of the depot, largely because of the suggestion that the novelty of such an auditorium would alone draw thousands of people.

The first day it rained; moreover the burning of Market Street bridge, the night before, had stopped the streetcars running on the chief thoroughfare to the place of meeting. Still the great improvised tabernacle was filled by an audience of 10,000. In Philadelphia, as elsewhere, Mr. Moody began by seeking to arouse the Christians to a sense of their responsibility. On one occasion, he spoke of the "dumb people in the churches who had said nothing for Christ for ten or fifteen years ', and of the "dwarfs who had not grown since they were converted". On the second evening, a young men's meeting was conducted in Arch Street Methodist Church, by Mr. John Wanamaker. With a few exceptions the clergy of the city took hearty interest in all the services. Many of them, whose acquaintance with Mr. Moody's methods was based entirely upon vague report, had looked forward with dread of sensational methods, but the quiet yet thorough way in which Mr. Moody entered upon his work brought to these doubters a feeling of gratified disappointment. On November 26th, the morning prayer meeting had an attendance of 8,000. A Methodist minister said, "If we had a hundred Moodys and Sankeys in the country all the Protestant sects would unite within ten years."


The last evening service of the eighth week was attended by more than 13,000, while many thousands were turned away. The regular meetings ended January 16th. However, a convention for clergymen and Christian laymen was held January 19th and 20th these developed more especially into services of praise. At the first meeting of the convention about 1,000 ministers and lay delegates were present. Mr. Moody spoke first on "Evangelistic Services". This was followed by "How to Conduct Prayer meetings"; "Inquiry Meetings - Their Importance and Conduct", and "The Training of Young Converts and Lay Workers". On the following day the subjects discussed were, " How Should the Music be Conducted in the Lord's Work?" "How to Expound and Illustrate the Scriptures"; "How to Get Hold of Non-Church-Goers" and "Our Young Men--What More can We Do for Them?" In the evening, Mr. Moody spoke on "Daniel".

I mention these subjects to give an idea of the variety of thought which made the convention so helpful. Mr. Moody said that in all his experience thus far he had never seen such services as these in Philadelphia. For fifty miles around the city the country sent recruits, and the total attendance during the nine weeks was estimated at about 900,000. As a thank-offering a large sum was raised, amounting to about $127,000. The total expenses of the meetings were in the neighborhood of $30,000. After the evangelists had departed chairs and other articles which had been in use at the depot were sold at auction; the chair in which Mr. Moody had sat brough $55, as did also M. Sankey's chair. The principal employment of the great thank-offering collection was to help the Philadelphia Young Men's Christian Association complete its new building in time for the Centennial Exposition, which began the same year.

The meetings in Philadelphia established Mr. Moody's leadership of the Lord's active army in the United States. His clarion note had no uncertain sound.


After leaving Philadelphia Mr. Moody took his family to Florida and rested for a time before entering on the great campaign in New York. But preparations in the metropolis were busily going on. Gilmore's Concert Garden, which had formerly been known as Barnum's Hippodrome, was rented for the services, $1,300 being paid weekly for its use.

The meetings in the Hippodrome began February 7, 1876, at 8 P.M. More than $15,000 had been expended on the building to make it completely serviceable. The crowds were handled by 500 ushers; a choir of 1,200 singers was placed under the order of Mr. Sankey; several hundred Christian workers gave their services to the inquiry rooms for inquiry work. There were, for work with the unconverted, each day two general directors and sixteen Christian leaders; each leader had twelve to fourteen helpers, so that in each of the seven inquiry rooms there were usually two leaders and twenty to thirty helpers. At the first meeting 7,000 persons were present in the main hall, and 4,000 others attending the overflow meeting, while several thousand were left in the streets. The service was fittingly opened with silent prayer. What that movement inaugurated for New York can never be estimated.

During the first week of services the aim was to arouse professed Christians to a higher sense of their responsibilities. The noon prayer meeting began on the second day, and at the prayer meeting after the evening service that same day almost all of the great audience who had listened to Mr. Moody's sermon on faith remained. More than two hundred Christians who wished their faith quickened arose in response to Mr. Moody's question, and fifty unconverted persons asked for prayer. On the fourth day there were five distinct meetings, the aggregate attendance being about 20,000. But Sunday was naturally marked by the greatest crowds. On the first Sunday more than 25,000 persons attended the meetings. There were on that day two exclusive services one for men and one for women. At the afternoon meeting for women, on Sunday, February 21st, 10,000 were present. At the evening meeting on that day such numbers arose for prayer that Mr. Moody said, "There are so many I can't count them; truly, God is in this house."


The last two days of the Hippodrome meetings, April 18th and 19th, were devoted to the Christian Convention with which Mr. Moody's meetings generally ended. As a thank-offering the sum of $135,000 was raised. The last meeting for converts was attended by between three and four thousand persons who were able to testify to their conversion.

Both in extent of time and in the results accomplished the campaign in the New York Hippodrome was perhaps the most important ever conducted by Mr. Moody. In moving New York God moved the country, and the voice of the evangelists was heard throughout the land. There was so little of the sensational about the meetings that a narrative concerning them may seem monotonous, for the reason that one service so much resembled the others. In each was manifested intense earnestness for souls, and glorious enthusiasm in the work of the Lord.

It is not necessary to tell of all the great series of meetings which Mr. Moody conducted. After leaving New York he went by way of Augusta, Ga., Nashville, Tenn., Louisville, Ky., St. Louis, Mo., and Kansas City, Mo., to Chicago, and in all these cities his labors were blessed with great results. His greatest meetings in Chicago, however, were not held until October, 1876, a date from which they continued for some time. The campaign in Boston began in the last of January, 1877. The Boston meetings, like those in other cities, were a wonderful demonstration of God's power. The assistance of the late Dr. A. J. Gordon and Miss Frances E. Willard was especially helpful. Interest was so great. that a daily paper, The Tabernacle, was published to further the work. Every home in Boston was visited by Christian workers.


From this time Mr. Moody's activity seldom ceased. One tour was followed by another, and hardly a city or town of any great importance in this country has failed to receive through his help a renewal of interest in spiritual affairs. The meetings in Baltimore in 1878 were marked by such notable results that I feel that possibly an account of them will most fittingly close this chapter concerning Mr. Moody's evangelistic work in the United States. After all there is space to do little more than indicate the general nature of his services to the Lord.

In the month of October, 1878 the services began in Baltimore. Mr. Moody had received a pressing invitation to visit Cleveland, but before he would give his answer he felt led to visit Baltimore. On his arrival he called into counsel some of the leading laymen of the city, and after talking the matter over with them, he was confident that God wanted him in that city. It was no half-hearted service, and, when he came to do his work, he brought to bear upon the city where he labored all his own personal influence, and the blessing also of the presence of his family. So, temporarily he removed from Northfleld and came to dwell in Baltimore. A committee of laymen was selected to have charge of this work. The committee was as follows Dr. James Carey Thomas, Dr. P. C. Williams, Gen. John S. Berry, Mr. G. S Griffith, Mr. Henry Taylor, Mr. George W. Corner, and Mr. A. M. Carter.


The following notice one day appeared in the daily papers: D.L. Moody will conduct meetings for Christians at the Mount Vernon Place M. E. Church, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday of this week, at 4 p. M. Subject: "The Holy Spirit." The meetings in this church were simply preparatory to the great work which was yet to follow. Every evangelical denomination in the city was represented.

Special meetings for men were held in the Associate Reformed Church, and noonday meetings were held in the Maryland Institute. There were some notable experiences in these meetings. Several gamblers were seated in one of their accustomed haunts one evening when it was suggested as a joke that they go to hear Moody. The proposition was agreed to. The meetings were being held at that time in St. Paul's M. F. Church, South. At the close of the meeting Mr. Moody started towards the gamblers; they immediately arose to leave the building. He called out to them, "Don't go, men; I want to see you," but they kept on going. Following after them he called out, "Come back, young men, come back:" but they refused and left.

A few days after this, one of them, who belonged to a prominent family in the city, was taken very sick, and as he lay upon his bed entirely helpless, was asked by one of Mr. Moody's workers, if he would not come to Christ. He made this promise: "If God will only allow me to leave this room I will become a Christian." He finally recovered, and one of the first things he did was to go to the meetings which were being held in the Associate Reformed Church. At the close of the preaching when the inquiry meeting was announced, Mr. Moody started clown the east side aisle where this man was sitting. As he approached him he said, "I am glad to see you, I have been looking for you several weeks." "Why, you don't know me, Mr. Moody," said the man. "Yes I do," he answered, "you are one of those gamblers I saw out at Dr. Cox' s church." The man fulfilled his promise to God by accepting Christ for his Saviour; gave a wonderful testimony of His saving power, and was instrumental in the conversion of many others who had been gamblers like himself.


One great feature of Mr. Moody's work had always been the singing, the wisdom of which may be seen in the following: While he was holding services in the Monument Street M. E. Church, a man addicted to drink and with no thought of God attended one of the meetings. He was much impressed with the singing. particularly with one hymn, "Come, O, Come to Me." He heard the announcement for the day meetings, and he determined to attend. As he entered the church Mr. Bliss was singing the hymn above mentioned. The man bought a hymn book that he might read the hymn for himself, and testified that he had no peace. Finally he burned the book, but he could not burn the impression that had been made by the Spirit. He then drank the harder, but could not drown the impression. Time passed on; one night he wandered into the Methodist Church, and as he did so he heard them singing again, "Come, O, Come to Me," and there that night he obeyed the call and accepted Christ. The hymn was number eighty-eight (88) in Gospel Hymns, No. 3. Mr. Moody always spoke of him after that as No. 88.

During the meetings at Broadway M. E. Church, a pickpocket entered the meeting for the purpose of relieving some one of his gold watch, which he was not long in doing; after procuring his prize, he started to leave the church but was unable to do so, for those who were in had to remain, and those who were out could not get in; he was therefore led to listen, was much impressed with the sermon, and stayed for the inquiry meeting, where he accepted Christ as his personal Saviour. The next day the door bell of the parsonage was rung, and when the servant answered, she found no one, but tied to the knob of the door was a package. This when opened was found to contain a gold watch and chain, and with it a note stating the facts, and asking that it be returned to the owner, which was done. The repentant thief gave his name and address, but asked that he might be forgiven, as God had forgiven him.


Dr. Leyburn's church (Associate Reformed), where the meetings, for men only, were held at 4 P. M. was the scene of many new births. One day a man who had lost all through drink and who had brought his family to the verge of starvation, was asked by an unsaved man to go to hear Mr. Moody. At first he ridiculed the idea, but finally said, "Can a fellow get warm there?" (his feet being out of his shoes). On being assured that he could, he went. He was ushered to the third seat from the front Mr. Moody took for his text Matt. 1: 21, "Thou shalt call his name Jesus for he shall save his people from their sins." The man said to himself, "That is what I need, some one to save me from my sins; I have been trying to save myself, and have made a miserable failure." When Mr. Moody had finished his talk, he looked straight at the man, and said, "Do you want this Saviour?" He answered, "I do." Turning to one of the workers, Mr. Moody said, "Go talk to that man." In a little while the worker said, "Would you like me to pray with you?" The man replied, "That is just what I have been wanting you to do ever since you have been here." The worker prayed, and a familiar expression with that man afterward was, "I left my sins in the third pew of Dr. Leyburn's church." He became a great worker for Christ, and is now a preacher of the Gospel.


In this same church a physician who was an infidel, attended the services, simply through curiosity. Mr. Moody's text was, What think ye of Christ?" The next day he attended again, and Mr. Moody spoke on "Walking with God". He began an investigation to find if such a person did really live. This must be done outside the Word of God as he did not claim to believe in the Bible. The result of his investigation was the acceptance of the Christ of God and Bible. Since that time he has been an active Christian worker.

Perhaps no meetings were more interesting than those held in the Maryland Institute at noon. At the door taking tickets was a man who, but a few months before, was running a beer saloon in East Baltimore. On entering, one who knew him said, "Why, Tom, what are you doing here?" His reply was, "O, I have given up that business and accepted Jesus Christ as my Saviour, and now I am a doorkeeper in the house of my God."

On the 26th of March, 1879, Detective Tod B. Hall, of the Baltimore City Detective Force, entered the Institute looking for a man with whom he had business, who, he was told, was in the meeting. He was persuaded to remain and was ushered to a front seat. He was much impressed with Mr. Moody's earnestness and simplicity. The text was John iii: 14, 15. "As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, etc." When he had finished his sermon, Mr. Moody asked that all Christians rise, and many arose. Then he said, "All those who believe that by putting into practice what I have said they will receive the benefits of a saved life, please rise.


He then and there believed on the Lord Jesus Christ, and received Him as his personal Saviour. Passing out from the seats into the aisle he was met by many who knew him, and to all he said, "It is settled I am determined to live a different life the balance of my days. He entered the Institute to find a man, and found The Man Christ Jesus. His first act was to go to the City Hall, and into the office where the detectives were at that hour of the day. He told them what he had done, and how he proposed by God's help to live, and then said, "Now, boys, all I ask is, don't ridicule me, but give me your sympathy." He then and there started for his home, and when he arrived he found a strange lady in the house, and the devil suggested, "Don't say anything until this strange lady is gone." In his own language, "I saw it was a trick of the devil," and walking to the center of the room he said. "Annie, I left you this morning not worthy the name of a husband, not worthy the name of father to our children, but a little while ago, at the Maryland Institute, I determined to live a different life; let us kneel down and ask God to help me be a better man." They did so, that being the first prayer ever offered by him in his home; when he arose his wife said, "Tod, if you have made up your mind to be a Christian I will be one too;" and they both took their stand for Christ the same day. And no one who visited that home after that day, would doubt that Christ had an abiding place there. In July, 1896, his wife took her departure to be with Christ as she bade him good-bye she said, "Tod, I'll wait and watch for you, and give you a royal welcome when you come."


I know of very few men who have been more wonderfully blessed in their Christian experience than Tod B. Hall. I have seen him in my own church, and in other places, literally lead scores of men to Christ.

In the same place one day, as Mr. Moody was working in the after-meeting, he came to a man in the centre aisle and said, "Are you a Christian?" To this question the man replied, "Yes sir. I am glad to say, Mr. Moody, I am." Passing on, he came to one who was not a Christian. He suddenly turned to one of the ushers and said, "Tell that man to come here" (referring to the one who was glad he was a Christian). As he approached, Mr. Moody said, Sit down there and talk to this man." Whereupon the man replied, "You will have to excuse me, Mr. Moody; that is something I never do." Mr. Moody turned to him quickly and said, " Either sit down and talk to that man, or else sit down and let some one talk to you.

On Friday evening, May 16th, Mr. Moody preached his last public sermon in the Mount Vernon Church, where nearly eight months before he had begun the meetings. On the evening of May 26th, after the usual meeting of the converts in the Y. M. C. A. rooms, conducted by E. W. Bliss it was proposed that the entire company go in a body to Mr. Moody's house on Lanvale street. He was to leave the next day, and all wanted to show their love in this simply way. On reaching his house they sang, "He will hide us". Mr. Moody appeared and spoke loving words in saying good-bye. One of the company then sang, "There's a land that is fairer than day". Mr. Moody then offered a fervent prayer and said good-bye. The next day he left for his home in Northfield.

Chapter 12

Mr. Moody in Two Wars
The Sanitary and Christian Commissions - Mr. Moody's Zeal - Experiences from the War - The Revival at Camp Douglas - Work in the War with Spain - On Sea and Land - Striking Illustrations - "God Keep Us From War."

When the Civil War broke out Mr. Moody was one of the busiest men in Chicago. The Young Men's Christian Association work and his Mission were occupying his time fully, but he and his associates were not slow to see the great opportunity which the army camps afforded to reach throngs of men who were not easy to approach under normal conditions. Not long after the commencement of hostilities there came into being two great organizations, the Sanitary Commission and the Christian Commission the one to look after the physical welfare, the other to look after the spiritual welfare of the soldiers.


The Sanitary Commission was the result of the federation of the so-called "Soldiers Aid Societies", which had individually already accomplished much good. At the outset the Government had not approved of these societies, fearing the effect of their operation upon the discipline of the troops, but, as their value became more apparent, and after they had been consolidated in one general organization, the field widened until the Sanitary Commission ranged in importance along with the Government Medical Bureau.

The Christian Commission was projected by a convention, held in Norfolk, Va., November 16, 1861, and Mr. George H. Stuart of Philadelphia, was elected president. Like the Sanitary Commission it was recognized and countenanced by the Government. Says one writer: "The Commissions aided the surgeon, helped the chaplain, followed the armies in their marches, went into the trenches and along the picket-lines. Wherever there was a sick, a wounded, a dying man, an agent of the Christian Commission was near by." As often as possible the workers gave Christian burial to the dead, and marked the graves so that later they could be identified by the relatives or friends. Religious services were conducted in camp or in the field; religious literature was distributed widely; in short, every means was employed to turn to the call of their Divine Master the attention of thousands of men who had answered their country's call.


The Chicago Young Men's Christian Association was one of many whose individual efforts in behalf of the soldiers led to the convention which formed the Christian Commission. The devotional committee, of which Mr. Moody was chairman, began to work immediately after the second call for volunteers, when the great rendezvous of Camp Douglas was established near the southern limits of Chicago. The committee was on the ground at the arrival of the first regiment, and began prayer meetings at once. Religious literature was given out among the soldiers, and Sunday services were established where they could easily be attended by the soldiers. The work spread so rapidly that the committee was obliged to send out a call for assistants. One hundred and fifty men, clerical and lay, responded, and eight or ten meetings were held every evening in the different camps.

During the war the Association held more than 1,500 services in or near Chicago. The Association Chapel, built at Camp Douglas in October, 1861, was the first camp chapel erected. Soldiers who were converted at Camp Douglas went to the front, and presently a call came to Chicago to send Christian workers to the Union lines. Mr. Moody answered this invitation in person, being the first regular army delegate from Chicago. His earliest work in the field was with the troops near Fort Donelson.

Mr. Moody's idea of the best treatment for Dying soldiers was to carry to them the glad tidings of salvation and to point out to them the open gates of Heaven. He maintained that the administration of physical comforts was comparatively an unimportant matter. When death is a question of only a few hours and he whom the dark angel is claiming is far from the path of righteousness, who will care to hear of temporal things while some friend stands ready, to lead him back to the way of truth?


As long as the War continued Mr. Moody went back and forth between Chicago and the various camps and battlefields. How his experience was widened, how his faith was strengthened by the visions of grace which God permitted him to see! The triumphant deaths which he and his fellow laborers witnessed are almost beyond enumeration. Many were the assurances of salvation which came to their cars from dying lips, and they saw hundreds of ashy faces lighted up With a "light that never was, on sea or land". It was practical work, this. Often there was time only for a few words of prayer, or a brief exhortation But God's blessing came with the asking.

From the many stories which I have heard Mr. Moody tell of his experiences during the terrible years of the war, I have selected the following.

I was in a hospital at Murfreesboro, and one night after midnight I was woke up and told that there was a man in one of the wards who wanted to see me. I went to him, and he called me 'chaplain' - I wasn't a chaplain - and he said he wanted me to help him die. And I said, 'I'd take you right up in my arms and carry you into the Kingdom of God if I could; but I can't do it 'I can't help you to die. And he said, 'Who can?' I said, 'The Lord Jesus Christ can - He came for that purpose.' He shook his head and said, ' He cant save me; I have sinned all my life.' And I said, 'But He came to save sinners.' I thought of his mother in the North, and I knew that she was anxious that he should die right, and I thought I'd stay with him. I prayed two or three times, and repeated all the promises I could, and I knew that in a few hours he would be gone. I said I wanted to read him a conversation that Christ had with a man who was anxious about his soul. I turned to the third chapter of John. His eyes were riveted on me, and when I came to the 14th and 15th verses, he caught up the words, As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of Man be lifted up; that whosoever believeth on Him should not perish, but have eternal life.' He stopped me and said. 'is that there? I said, 'Yes,' and he asked me to read it again, and I did so. He leaned his elbows on the cot and clasped his hands together and said, That's good; won't you read it again?'


"I read it the third time, and then went on with the rest of the chapter. When I finished, his eyes were closed, his hands were folded, and there was a smile on his face. O! how it was lit up! What a change had come over it! I saw his lips quivering, and I leaned over him and heard, in a faint whisper. 'As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whosoever believeth on Him should not perish, but have eternal life.' He opened his eyes and said, That's enough; don't read any more.' He lingered a few hours, and then pillowed his head on those two verses and went up in one of Christ's chariots and took his seat in the Kingdom of God.

"You may spurn God's remedy and perish; but I tell you God don't want you to perish. He says, 'As I live I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked.' 'Turn ye, turn ye, for why will ye die?'"


After the terrible battle of Pittsburg Landing, we were taking the wounded down the Tennessee River to a hospital. I said to some of the Christian Commission, ' We must not let a man die on the boat without telling him of Christ and Heaven.' You know the cry of a wounded man is 'Water! Water!' As we passed along from one to another, giving them water, we tried to tell them of the water of life, of which, if they would drink, they would never die. I came to one man who had about as fine a face as I ever saw. I spoke to him, but he did not answer. I went to the doctor, and said 'Doctor, do you think that man will recover?' ' No; he lost so much blood before we got him off the field that he fainted while we were amputating his leg. He will never recover.' I said: ' I cant find out his name, and it seems a pity to let him die without knowing who he is. Don't you think we can bring him to?' 'You may give him a little brandy and water,' said the doctor 'that will revive him if anything will.'


I sat down beside him, and gave him brandy and water every now and then. While I was waiting I said to a man near by: 'Do you know this man?' 'O yes, that is my chum.' 'Has he a father and mother living?' 'He has a widowed mother.' 'Has he any brothers or sisters?' 'Two sisters; but he is the only son.' 'What is his name?' 'William Clarke.' I said to myself that I could not let him die without getting a message for that mother. Presently he opened his eyes, and I said 'William, do you know where you are?' He looked around a little dazed, and then said: 'O, yes; I am on my way home to mother.' 'Yes, you are on your way home,' I said; 'but the doctor says you won't reach your earthly home. I thought I'd like to ask you if you had any message for your mother.' His face lighted up with an unearthly glow, as he said 'O, yes tell my mother that I died trusting in Jesus.' It was one of the sweetest things I ever heard in my life! Presently, I said 'Anything else, William?' With a beautiful smile be said, 'Tell my mother and sisters to be sure and meet me in Heaven; 'and he closed his eyes. He was soon unconscious again, and in a few hours his soul took its flight to join his Lord and Master.


It was my privilege to go to Richmond with General Grant's army. Now just let us picture a scene. There are a thousand poor captives, and they are lawful captives, prisoners in Libby Prison. Talk to some of them that have been there for months, and hear them tell their story. I have wept for hours to hear them tell how they suffered, how they could not hear from their homes and their loved ones for long intervals, and how sometimes they would get messages that their loved ones were dying, and they could not get home to be with them in their dying hours. Let us, for illustration, picture a scene. One beautiful day in spring they are there in the prison. All news has been kept from them. They have not heard what has been going on around Richmond, and I can imagine one says one day, 'Ah, boys, listen! I hear a band of music, and it sounds as if they were playing the old battle-cry of the Republic. It sounds as if they were playing the 'The Star Spangled Banner! Long may it wave o'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!' And the hearts of the poor fellows begin to leap for joy. 'I believe Richmond is taken. I believe they are coming to deliver us and every man in that prison is full of joy, and by and by the sound comes nearer and they see it is so. It is the Union army! Next the doors of the prison are unlocked; they fly wide open, and those thousands of men are set free. Wasn't that good news to them? Could there have been any better news? They are out of prison, out of bondage, delivered, Christ came to proclaim liberty to the captive."


A veteran of the war tells the following story, which, while its importance is slight, gives an idea of the interest aroused by Mr. Moody's work.

"The death of Mr. Moody calls to my mind the first time I ever saw or heard of him. It was at Murfreesboro, Tenn., in the spring of 1862, when General Rosecrans was preparing his army auspices of the Christian Commission. His preaching resulted in quite a revival in a number of regiments and brigades, and caused considerable excitement and great interest. General Alexander McDowell McCook, who commanded one of the corps, became much interested in the work. There was something of a rivalry between a number of regiments as to which furnished the most recruits to Moody's Christian army. They told a story on Colonel Fred Kneffler, of an Indiana regiment, who was an enthusiastic admirer and defender of his regiment and did not propose to allow it to play second to any regiment in the army of the Cumberland.

"One day an officer of another regiment came over and related in the hearing of Colonel Kneffler that the evening before some twenty converts had been baptized. This made the number exceed the converts of Colonel Fred's regiment by some twelve or fifteen. The Colonel immediately summoned his adjutant and in his extremely German brogue - made more broken by the excitement under which he labored - ordered him to detail fifteen men band have them baptized without delay."


Mr. Moody was at Shiloh, at Murfreesboro, with the army at Cleveland and Chattanooga; he was one of the first to enter Richmond with Grant's army. devoting himself there to the soldiers of both armies without discrimination. But the greatest Christian work with which he was connected during the war was the revival among the Confederate prisoners at Camp Douglas. This camp, originally used for the instruction of Union recruits was transformed into a prison at the time when about 10,000 rebel captives were sent there after the taking of Fort Donelson. The burden of the souls of these men lay heavy on Mr. Moody's heart. One day he secured a permit to visit them, and gave it to the secretary of the Young Men's Christian Association, himself accompanying him in the thought that as assistant to the other he might enter the lines without a question. The guard refused to let both the men in on one pass, Mr. Moody exhibiting in vain the can of oil which he was carrying to furnish light for the service. But the officer of the day, who overheard the conversation and came up to investigate, recognized Mr. Moody and took him to headquarters, where through the exercise of his official influence the young missionary was given a pass to go in and hold meetings for the prisoners whenever he might choose.

A few minutes later Mr. Moody and his friend, Mr. Hawley, began their first meeting for the prisoners. Deep interest was manifested from the start. Meetings were held in the prison camp thereafter every afternoon and evening. Great numbers were soundly converted, and they were organized into a Young Men's Christian Association. As large an opportunity as possible was given them for Christian culture. In this revival work a great many Christian ministers and laymen assisted.


The report of the Army Committee for the year 1865 shows a distribution of 1,537 Bibles, 20,565 Testaments, I,000 prayer books, 2,025 hymn Books, 24,896 other religious books, 127,545 religious newspapers, and 43,450 pages of tracts, besides 28,400 literary papers and magazines. The Camp Douglas chapel was erected at a cost of $2,300, and a soldiers' library and reading room were furnished by the Association, in a building erected by the Christian Commission. This was all in addition to the regular home work.

An employment bureau was established this year, chiefly for the Benefit of the many wounded soldiers who were continually applying to the Association for assistance. Situations were found for 1.435 men, 124 boys, and 718 girls, besides transient employment for many persons who were unable to get out to service.

All this work was clue in large part to the consecrated zeal of Mr. Moody. He never would be limited to a certain line of opportunity, but always took advantage of every chance to do something for his Master. His work during the Civil War exemplified all those qualifications of his which shone through his later and more extended efforts, and it was for him, moreover, practically the first recognition he received outside his own city of Chicago.

More than thirty years passed by before the United States again found itself in arms. Like the Civil War, the War with Spain was undertaken for the relief of an oppressed people. The opportunity for a Christian campaign in the army camps was as great in 1898 as in 1861, perhaps greater, and the organized forces of Christian workers were much more efficient at the outset in the later year. This increased efficiency in Christian organization, who shall say in how much it was due to Mr. Moody's service during the long interval?


April 25, 1898, three clays after the President's first call for volunteers, the International Committee of the Young Men's Christian Association met in New York City to discuss the situation, and decided to undertake immediately a work among the soldiers and sailors. The organization had the machinery necessary for the undertaking. In nearly 700 cities throughout the country there were local associations; these in the several states were united in state organizations, with state committees and state secretaries, and were finally all bound together in an international organization, with its international committee, sub-committees and secretaries. Accordingly, in order to promote united effort and to secure effective co-operation, the international committee appointed a sub-committee to organize and supervise the work, its official title being "The Army and Navy Christian Commission of the International Committee of Young Men's Christian Associations." The work of the Commission was divided into three departments the Executive, for general supervision, with Colonel John J. McCook as chairman; the General work, for the direction of the social, physical and regular religious effort, including the Bible classes, with C. W. McAlpin as chairman; and the Evangelistic department, for the promotion of evangelistic effort in the different camps, with D. L. Moody as chairman.

The Evangelistic department through Mr. Moody kept a force of clergymen and evangelists in the field, co-operating with the regular religious work carried on in the tents. A careful and conservative estimate shows over 8,000 soldiers who publicly professed to accept Christ in all the meetings during the summer, while the number of those stimulated in their Christian lives cannot be estimated. An interesting fact in this connection is that the regiments that suffered most in the battles around Santiago were, with few exceptions, the regiments that, when in Tampa, were encamped around the great canvas-covered tabernacle where were held nightly services, some of which were attended by more than 2,500 soldiers, and where many of these men became Christians. One of these companies went into the battle with seventy-six men, and the next day, at roll call, only seventeen answered.

The work was established in the regiments of colored troops at the various camps, with colored young men of influence and ability in charge. This received the approbation of all students of the race problem. A prominent colored minister, after watching it carefully, termed it the "most practical and most helpful work I have ever seen carried on among the colored people."


In all the camps visitation of the sick was carried on, both the camp secretaries and visiting evangelists taking part in this service.

The following is one of many incidents: A new ward being opened one day was at once filled with sixty-six invalid soldiers. Going through the wards a worker came in contact with a sick boy from a Pennsylvania regiment, and stopping to talk to him, found the boy ready for the Gospel message. The boy said he came from a Christian home and had a brother in the missionary field, but that he had been a bad boy and had given his family much trouble. After talking with him a while, he said to the secretary, "Do you mean to say that I can be saved now and here?" The secretary assured him that such was the case, and opened to him the simple way of salvation. Before the secretary left, the boy joined him in prayer, praying for himself, and when he was leaving he said, "Now, remember, chaplain, I have accepted Jesus Christ as my personal Saviour, and in so doing you tell me I am saved." He exacted a promise from the secretary that he would return during the evening, and when he returned the boy greeted him cheerfully, and said, "I am a very sick boy, but remember, whatever comes, I tell you now that I have accepted Jesus Christ and am trusting Him as my Saviour." The next morning, as the secretary made his rounds, the soldier boy had gone to his long home.


The Commission followed closely in me wake of the Army of invasion, and pressed its work among the soldiers around Santiago de Cuba. It followed General Miles' army to Porto Rico, and with the third expedition to the Philippines workers and equipment were sent to render similar service.

The Navy Department at Washington supported the plan cordially, although from the nature of the case it was not easy to accomplish work on the ships. It was decided to place a representative of the Commission on each ship that had no regular chaplain, but the war was over so quickly that only one vessel was thus supplied. An idea of the feasibility of the work, however, is shown in the following incident from the one worker's report:

"At first, as I started to go over the ship with other things, I would fill my side pockets with copies of the New Testament, and give a copy away now and then, after a special personal talk with an open-hearted sailor or marine. As a matter of fact, I thought there would be no general eagerness for the books, and so great tact should be exercised in giving them out. I said to myself the first day, 'These 300 Testaments will last through my entire service but I was utterly mistaken. One day a marine said, 'What are those little books in your pockets?' I replied, 'Testaments.' Then he quickly said, 'Will you give me one?' I gave him one, and by that time there was about me quite a crowd of men who were off duty (I was below in their quarters), and they all wanted the books. From that time I gave away fifty books a day until they were all gone. One night I heard some one at my window. I sprang up, thinking it was a marine after a drink of icewater; but, to my surprise, a sailor was standing there in the dark, like Nicodemus. He said, with some hesitation, 'Chaplain, I am after one of those little Bibles.'

All this evangelistic work was directed by Mr. Moody from Northfield. His health made it inadvisable for him to go to the front during the summer heat, so he planned to take the field in person in the autumn. But when the autumn came the war was over, and his presence was no longer necessary. To him, however, belongs the credit of organization.


At. the beginning of the war, the International Committee undertook the task to which it had been manifestly called, with but little, if' any, thought of the far-reaching possibilities of the future. When the war closed it was evident that a door of opportunity had been opened for a permanent service to a large and important class of young men. Accepting the responsibility of the situation, the International Committee voted to make the work, so auspiciously begun, a permanent feature of its plan and effort, and in September 1898, its Army and Navy Department was organized. The ninety seven army posts in this country, and such as may be established in the new possessions, will form a field for extended effort, and already in several of these, associations have been organized. The regimental plan of organization is also being tested with good results. A comprehensive plan of work covering the entire Navy has already been inaugurated. A Naval Young Men's Christian Association has been formed.


The following incidents illustrate the value of the evangelistic work during the war with Spain.

"I'll never surrender to Spain," said a great stalwart soldier, "but, boys, I'm going to surrender to Jesus Christ to-night." What that meant in the way of moral courage few can understand, facing as he did the jibes and sneers of his old companions.

At the close of a meeting in Camp Thomas theatre three soldiers came to an association worker and said that a man who had been converted a week before was sick, and wanted to see them. They went up to his tent, and found him suffering terribly, but rejoicing that he had accepted Christ. He said several times, "Well, I've lived right one week, anyway."

A young soldier from one of the Texas regiments was reproved gently by the camp secretary for swearing and he immediately arose and apologized, saying: "I don't know why I utter these oaths except that I am living in an atmosphere of obscenity and cursing; I never swore at home; I trust you will forgive me, sir; I did not realize that you were present."

It was at the close of the service in the Third Brigade Young 'Men's Christian Association tent, Camp Cuba Libre, Jacksonville, Florida. A hundred soldiers had risen for prayers, and at least fifty had come forward and given their hands in token of a surrender to Christ as a personal Saviour. The benediction had been pronounced when a bright-faced Virginia boy, nineteen years old, came to the platform and said "Won't you pray for me, sir? I want to be a Christian here in camp." They knelt together, and others gathered around until twenty noble fellows were in the group of prayer. Nearly all confessed the Lord Jesus Christ in prayer and went down to their tents rejoicing.


From the activity which Mr. Moody displayed in the two wars which were fought during his working career, it might be thought that he was not averse to international conflicts. This was far from true. It was simply that when war came he saw in it, and took advantage of, an opportunity to do good. Just before the commencement of the Spanish war, in a meeting at Pittsburg, he told his hearers what he thought of war.

"War, awful war!" he exclaimed. "Never has our country had more need of your prayers than at the present time. God keep us from war, if it be possible, and God keep hate of Spain out of our hearts! I have not met a man who served in the last war who wants to sec another. God knows that I do not want to see the carnage and destruction that such a war would bring. God pity America and Spain. There are many mothers who will be bereaved, many homes broken up, if we have war. Have you thought of this?

"Have you thought of this?" No; in the heat of preparation in our eagerness to avenge a wronged people, in all the excitement of what seemed to be a Divine call to arms, many of us did not think of this. But the great, tender heart of Moody ached with the sorrow of anticipation. He knew that nations are nourished by the rain of mothers' tears; he knew that sad-faced fathers to-day, like Abraham of old, stand ready to offer up their sons on their county's altar. And with a pity - dare I say it? - a pity akin to the pity of his Master, he yearned for, his people.

Chapter 13

The Spiritual Side of Northfield
A Blessed Town - Northfield Dear to Mr. Moody - Mr. Moody's Love of Nature - Dr. A. J. Gordon - Rev. F. B. Meyer at Northfield - A Star In the Midnight Darkness.

Northfield is beautiful for situation, and the words of the Psalmist in Psalm xlviii:2, "Beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole earth, is Mount Zion," in the judgement of many people could be applied to this center of influence in the Christian world of to-day.

It is impossible to think of Northfield without thinking of Mr. Moody, and equally impossible to consider for a moment the work of D. L. Moody, without being compelled to give much consideration to his native town, the place he loved as few men love the place of their birth.


Independent of its spiritual attractions, there are few more beautiful places; the Connecticut River, bending here and there between hill and vale, is more than interesting. The poet speaks of "rivers singing their way to the sea;" one can quite understand how this expression could be used in this connection, for we quite believe that it would be true of the Connecticut. And if the river itself could speak it would tell many a story of lives that from Northfield have sung their way on up to Heaven, and have started the melody of song in many other lives as well. It is said that Mr. Moody loved the view from his own house better than from almost any other point of observation, and well he might. Dr. Gordon once wrote of him, "Moody cannot endure the seashore; his green fields and ever shadowy hills and deep-rolling Connecticut are his paradise."

Northfield is a typical New England town. It consists practically of one long stretch, on either side of which stand stately elms, their branches meeting overhead and forming an arch, which has ever increasing beauty for the lovers of the quaint old town. It has ever been a very winsome place both because of the fact that it is so far removed from the busy hum of cities as to make it restful, and also because here within the boundaries of the town so many people have seen themselves to be out of touch with God and have come to know Him in all His fulness, and thus have entered the life of blessing.


But Northfield was dear to Mr. Moody for more reasons than one, and I am quite sure that he never thought of it, that there were not more than a hundred reasons why it should be much to him. He used to say that when the train left Greenfield, which was not far away from his own home, he found himself so impatient to be with his loved ones that it was impossible to sit still, and so he would frequently walk up and down the aisle of the car until he was safely home.

The center of Northfield, to the pilgrim journeying thither from all parts of the world, was the home of Mr. Moody himself, and the visit to that home, and a vision of it, both within and without, furnished one of the best comments on his life. Here dwelt a man through whose hands millions of dollars had passed, and practically none of it, though he had the best of right to a portion of it, both legally and morally was turned aside to give him what the world would count luxuries. Tens of thousands of homes are more beautifully and expensively furnished, but there was an air about this heart of Northfield which one detected the moment he crossed the threshold of the home - an air not of necessity associated with tapestries or pictures or paintings or furnishings ordinarily found in the homes of the rich, but which ever comes, when Christ is the unseen guest and the head of the house.


The old home was much to the Great Evangelist because it was his home. It was associated with his early struggles with poverty, with his father and mother, so dear to him, with his own immediate household, bound to him, it would seem, with ties stronger than those that ordinarily unite the members of the family; with the students whom he loved and whom it was his delight to help to gain an education. It was the scene of the beginning and the growth of the Bible Conferences, which have yearly increased in influence and power until the whole Christian world acknowledges its indebtedness to God for this fountain of blessing. There, at Mt. Hermon, the site of the boys' school, was started the Student Volunteer movement, which has been used of God to send hundreds of young men and women to foreign fields, and influenced hundreds more who now stand waiting for an opportunity to go. Is it any wonder that Mr. Moody loved Northfield? We love it too because it is associated with his triumphs. "Triumphs over the obstacles which stood in the way of his buying back his old home which had been lost by his father's failure in business. Triumphs over the discouragements that stood in the way of his giving an education to boys and girls who were poor, as he once had been; discouragements that would have defeated any other man, and at last the scene of the triumphant and victorious ending of his life and his glorious entrance into Heaven when he said, "Earth is receding, Heaven is opening, God is calling, and I must go."

Northfield is known throughout the world also because of the celebrated people whose names and words are interwoven in its latter day history. But whoever has visited Northfield in the past, or whoever may turn his face thither in the future, no name, however great it may be, can ever outshine his of whom we write. He was the gentlest, the kindest, the noblest Christian man it has ever been our good fortune to meet. One of the most familiar Northfield pictures was D. L. Moody sitting on the little porch in front of his house early in the morning hailing passers-by in whom he might have some special interest, directing this one, giving an order to another one, until he would have transacted half a day's business when others were just rising from their beds. I can hear his voice now as I write, as it sounded out one morning not later than 5.30 o'clock, when I heard him calling, "Chapman, Chapman," and, looking out of my window of Weston Hall, saw him sitting in his buggy ready for a drive, and then for an hour and a half we rode up through his favorite glen past Dr. Pierson's summer home, and the site where later Drs. Mabie and Torrey were to build.


His love of nature was manifest in every turn of the road. "Look at that," he would say, and before us was a beautiful picture of a running stream and bending boughs of trees, through which the morning sun was breaking. " Listen," he would exclaim again, and the whole of the forest on either side of the road seemed vocal with the song of birds. "Isn't it beautiful," he would say over and over. To take a morning ride with D. L. Moody was to see God in all nature, but most of all was to feel His presence in the remarkable personality of the man who sat beside you, impressing you by his every word and gesture with the fact that he was absolutely surrendered to God.

It always seemed to me that his favorite meal for guests was breakfast. Happy that man who had an invitation to this feast of the day, for he could then see D. L. Moody at his best in his home life, and bow with him about his family altar, forth from which streams of blessing had gone to the very ends of the earth.

Northfield is associated with certain other people whom Mr. Moody was wise enough to call to his assistance and help. First and foremost would be Major D. W. Whittle; for next to Mr. Moody, as a preaching evangelist, stands Major Whittle, a man of plain speech and solid piety, whose words have been already owned of God to the awakening of thousands of souls.

Major Whittle is a native of Vermont, is about sixty-three years of age, and when Mr. Moody first met him was a resident of Chicago, where he was converted, and united with the First Congregational Church, under the pastorate of Rev. W. W. Patton, D.D. Major Whittle was employed in the office of Fargo & Co.'s Express until the breaking out of the war, when he enlisted a company in Chicago and joined the army as a captain of infantry.

During his army life he maintained his Christian profession, and for a long time kept up a company prayer meeting. At the close of the war he returned with the brevet rank of major, and soon after was offered a situation as business manager of the Elgin Watch Company, with a salary of five thousand dollars a year, which he accepted.

His work as superintendent of the West Side Tabernacle Sunday School, a mission opened by the first Congregational Church, was greatly blessed, and for some time before his entrance upon the work of an evangelist his services were in considerable demand as a Bible reader and helper in revivals of religion.

At length feeling called of God to a wider field of Christian labor, he resigned his position, with its ample salary, and gave himself wholly up to Christ, trusting in Him for direction and support.

Major Whittle is laid aside at Northfield now, his very presence in the old town meaning a blessing to many. His ministry too has been a benediction to all with whom he has come in contact. I question if a more godly man lives to-day than this honored servant.


Next in importance, possibly, would be Dr. A. J. Gordon, the honored pastor for so many years of the Clarendon Street Baptist Church in Boston. Mr. Moody relied much upon him, often did the great evangelist dwell upon his readiness to do any service, to take any place, to stand in any gap. " I cannot thank you enough," he wrote one summer, when his absence had thrown the whole charge of the Conference upon Dr. Gordon, "for your great help at Northfield. All the letters I have got from there speak in the highest terms of your generalship.

"I know of no one who could have taken your place.

"It will now answer the question, 'What is going to become of the work when I am gone?'"

The presence of such men as these made Northfield a heavenly place in its atmosphere. Mr. Moody never displayed greater wisdom than in his selection of men to aid him in his Conferences.

"One of the interesting features of Dr. Gordon's later ministry at Northfield was the evening baptism in the lake which has, since his death, been called after his name. These services were of great solemnity. The assembled people, the soft singing in the eventide air, the majestic baptismal formula 'Know ye not that so many of us as were baptized into Jesus Christ were baptized into his death?' the face as it had been the face of an angel, the broken waters, and the resurrection chant at the end - these things can never be forgotten by those who stood by the water's edge."


Certainly no one has ever visited Northfield who has made a deeper impression by his ministry, than the Rev. F. B. Meyer. He is now the minister of Christ Church, London, having succeeded in that historic pulpit Rev. Newman Hall, D. D., but he is known in this country, because of the fact that he has led, by the direction of the Spirit, thousands of people into the joys of the surrendered life, and Mr. Moody will doubtless hear in Heaven words of appreciation of the fact that he ever secured Mr. Meyer for his Northfield work.

Time does not permit in this connection to mention the names M MacGregor and Morgan, Andrew Murray, Dr. Webb-Peploe and hundreds of others of the real leaders in the Christian world to-day. They have counted it an honor to visit Northfield and give the very best of their thought to help carry on a movement which was manifestly of God.

There are many special incidents which have made Northfield blessed in its memory. One is related by Mr. George C. Neech ham, of the sainted A. J. Gordon of Clarendon Street Church.

"Dr. Gordon, unlike some Christians, believed there was something always beyond. This he ever sought to attain. Some years ago, during the first Northheld convention, he was desirous to secure what he yet needed as a saint and servant of Christ. Toward the close of those memorable ten days, spent more in prayer than in preaching, my beloved friend joined me in a midnight hour of great heart-searching and in-filling of the Spirit. He read with peculiar tenderness our Lord's intercessory prayer of John xvii. The union of the believer with Christ and the Father, as taught by our Lord in that chapter, called out fervent exclamations, while with deep pathos he continued reading. During united prayer which followed, the holy man poured his soul with a freedom and unction indescribable. I never heard him boast of any spiritual attainment reached during that midnight hour. Soul experiences were to him very sacred, and not to be rehearsed on every ordinary occasion. But I have no doubt that he received then a divine touch which further ennobled his personal life and made his ministry of ever-increasing spirituality and of ever-widening breadth of sympathy."


One incident connected with my own Christian experience can never be effaced from my memory. I was seated in my country home reading the accounts of the Northfield conferences, before I had ever thought of attending the same, when one sentence in an Address delivered by Mr. Meyer arrested my attention. It was concerning the life of surrender, and the sentence was as follows: "If you are not willing to give up everything to God, then can you say, I am willing to be made willing?" It was like a star in the midnight darkness of my life and led to a definite surrender of myself in October 1892. But after that there were still some discouragements and times of depression, and one morning very early in front of Mr. Moody's house with the Rev. F. B. Meyer, I said to him, " Mr Meyer, what is my difficulty?" I told him of my definite surrender and pointed out to him my times of weakness and discouragement, and in a way which is peculiar to himself he made answer, ''My brother, your difficulty is doubtless the same as the one I met. Have you ever tried to breathe out six times without breathing in once?" Thoughtlessly I tried to do it and then learned that one never breathes out until he breathes in, that his breathing out is in proportion to his breathing in; that he makes his effort to breathe in and none to breathe out. Taking my hand in his, my distinguished friend said, "it is just so in one's Christian life, we must be constantly breathing in of God, or we shall fail," and he turned to make his way to Mr. Moody's house for breakfast while I hastened up to my room in Weston Hall thanking God that I had had a message better to me than any sermon I had ever heard.

Such incidents as these in the lives of thousands of ministers make Northfield a place delightful to visit and Northfield meetings a benediction.

A very wealthy family, the father and mother of which had been frequent visitors at Northfield, could never induce the young ladies of their home to go with them, their idea of a Bible conference being such that they considered it a poor way to spend a vacation; but one summer, because of the description of the beauty of the scenery, they consented to go. They were seated one morning on the piazza of the Northfield Hotel with Mr. Meyer, when something in his conversation led them to say that they would hear him preach that morning. The power of God came upon one of the young ladies and she returned to her room only to fall upon her knees and definitely yield herself to God. She returned to her home to engage most actively in Christian service. Shortly after her return she was taken ill and died, and before her death she called her mother to her room to say to her that she wanted her to call to her room, before the funeral, every girl whom she had ever known intimately and socially and to tell them that in the little time she had known Christ fully she had had more joy than in all her social life put together.

This is but one incident among thousands that could be related concerning the influence of Northfield. Is it strange, therefore, that many who love it can say as the Psalmist said of Zion, "Beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole earth, is Northfield."

Chapter 14

The Northfield Schools
Marvellous Educational Work - The Beginnings of Northfield Seminary - Three Great Ends in View - Mt. Hermon - The Northfleld Training School.

A favorite aphorism with Mr. Moody was, that "it is better to set ten men to work than to do the work of ten men", and his institutions were every one of them founded with this idea in mind. He ever had a great desire more thoroughly to equip young men and women that they might more properly do the work to which God had called them. In one sense Mr. Moody was not an educated man, for, so far as the schools were concerned, he had the scantiest equipment for his life work. This was always a source of sincere sorrow to him, and he determined that others should not meet this difficulty if he could prevent it, yet in the very widest sense he was most thoroughly educated, and it was entirety fitting that Professor Henry Drummond should speak of him as "one of the greatest educators of his day."


There is really no greater proof of Mr. Moody's breadth of mind than that he should have started these different institutions. I think he is the only evangelist in this country that has ever, to any great extent, concerned himself with such matters, and since he is easily the greatest evangelist that this country has produced in modern times, it is all the more remarkable that in the very prime of his life, and at the time when he was really at the height of his success as an evangelist, he should give so much of his strength to educational causes.

If there ever has been a disposition to criticise Mr. Moody's latter day evangelistic effort, such criticism should always be made in the light of his truly marvelous educational work. Personally I do not think that he is rightly a subject for unfavorable criticism in his last efforts along evangelistic lines, for whenever I heard him, even to the very last, he always seemed to have a special anointing of God upon him. But I have heard men say that his special efforts in his last days were not to be compared with the work of his earlier ministry. However, let me repeat again, that if to his evangelistic work you add his educational interests, then each succeeding day of D. L. Moody's life was greater than the day that preceded it, and he was at the very zenith of his power when God called him home. He knew that the object of Christianity was to make men and women better in every way, and fit them, not only with all their heart but with all their mind to serve their God and their country, so he founded these institutions for the turning out of such characters.

Henry Drummond has said, "his pupils should be committed to nothing as regards a future profession. They might become ministers or missionaries, evangelists or teachers, farmers or politicians, business men or lawyers; all that he would secure would be that they should have a chance of becoming useful, educated, God-fearing men and women." But he would help them if he could to fill these positions to the glory of God.


On his return to America from Great Britain, Mr. Moody went with his family to the home of his boyhood days. He decided to make Northfield his permanent place of residence, and he settled clown to enjoy a period of rest before he formed new plans for work. It was a time of real preparation for the future, and the history of to-day proves that God was as truly speaking to him then as to Moses when He was alone with him on the mountain. During journeys over the hills about his native town, he met many of the farmers' daughters, bright, intelligent girls, with ambitions extending beyond the routine of the farm-house drudgery. They appealed so strongly to him that he conceived the plan of a school where such girls, possessed of moderate means, might receive a careful training in the Bible and ordinary English branches. This was the seed thought, and out of it has grown the Northfield Seminary, Mt. Hermon, and the Northfield Training School.


It has been said that this educational idea was not alone D. L. Moody's. A brother, not now living, Samuel Moody, an active, intelligent man, had long desired the establishment of a High School in his native place, and frequently talked of it. There is still another thing that should be mentioned. At this time Mr. D. L. Moody was deeply interested in the education of a young lady cousin, whom he afterward sent to Wellesley College. This cousin, Miss Fanny C. Holton, died in February, 1887, but her character, influence and helpfulness had a most important relation to the origin of the Northfield Seminary and to its entire history. In 1887, Mr. Moody held meetings in Boston, and there met Mr. H. N. F. Marshall, who was intimately connected with the founding of both schools. It was Mr. Marshall who made the first purchase of ground for the school.

In 1878, Mr. Marshall first visited Northfield, and this visit led to the above-mentioned purchase of the sixteen acres of ground nearly opposite Mr. Moody's house. In 1878 and 1879, while Mr. Moody was working in Baltimore, Mr. Marshall again joined him, and the project of the school for young ladies was further discussed. A second lot of ground was purchased adjoining the first, and on this the first recitation building was erected. In 1879, during the summer, Mr. Moody altered his own house for the accommodations of the pupils. A long wing, adjoining the house, was divided into ten rooms for the accommodation of the students. November 3, 1879, the school opened, not with eight or ten pupils, as they had dared to hope, but with twenty-five, and until the recitation hall was finished, in December, the pupils studied in Mr. Moody's own home. Miss Harriet W. Tuthill came as the first teacher and principal of the school. The price charged to every pupil then, as now, was but $100, and applications came pouring in from all parts of the country.


In this work of education there were three great ends which occupied Mr. Moody's thought in addition to the natural educational advantages. The first had to do with a better Biblical education, and his great object was to help and encourage them, and fit them in the best way for a happy and useful life, to bring them in close contact with the Fountain of Life, from which they might draw freely for all their needs. The second end in view was to meet the demand for trained women who would devote themselves to missionary work, either at home or abroad, but more particularly among the poor of the great cities. But a third object in founding the school was that the buildings which should be erected for purposes of education should be available during the summer and vacation months for another use. They could be used for gatherings of persons who delighted to study the Bible, and also to confer concerning matters touching the Kingdom of Christ. Mr. Moody lived long enough to see these three ends more than fulfilled, and great numbers of young women the country over bless God that he was ever used to inaugurate such a work in their behalf.

On the first day of April, 1880, ground was broken for East Hall, and on the first of October the building was finished. It became the home for sixty-three students. When the Hall was opened Mr. Moody said, "I would like to give this hall a motto, and let it also be the motto of the school. Isaiah XXVII: 3: 'I, the Lord do keep it; I will water it every moment; lest any hurt it, I will keep it night and day." When this remark was made he committed the building and school, in a special prayer, to the continual service and never-failing care of God.


The second year of the Seminary began, with East Hall well filled, and a large number of day scholars, while the third year opened with every room that was obtainable more than crowded. Not only was this building used, but while Mr. Moody was absent in Great Britain, his own house was given up entirely to the use of the school. The school has always been much like a home, and the spirit of happiness and harmony, which is the real spirit of Christ, has always prevailed.

The fourth year of the Seminary began with a new dormitory. The building was named Bonar Hall, in memory of the visit made to Northfield by Dr. Andrew Bonar. This structure was afterward destroyed by fire. The school was constantly increasing in numbers and widening its influence. In 1885, Marquand Hall was formally opened. At the same time was celebrated the eightieth birthday of Mrs. Betsey Moody, and the forty-eighth birthday of her son D. L. Moody. In 1886 the corner-stone was laid of another dormitory, holding forty-five pupils. It was finished in the summer of 1887 at a cost of $25,000, and bears the name of Weston Hall.

It was this Hall that was set apart for the use of the New York Presbytery at the last meeting of the Northfield Conference. In the spring of 1887, the Talcott Library was built, the gift of James Talcott, of New York, a trustee of the school, and the Rev. Mark Guy Pearse, of England, made an address on this occasion. But even though the buildings were constantly increasing, and were not at all small in their dimensions, each succeeding year found them filled to overflowing, until in the ninth year there were 252 boarding pupils and eighteen teachers.


In the judgment of many of his friends D. L. Moody never performed a more important service than when he gave to the world the Northfield Seminary. Other buildings than those mentioned above have been erected, until to-day the school possesses as many dormitories as any girls' school in the country. In addition it has the Skinner Gymnasium, and the new Auditorium built by Mr. Moody in 1894, to accommodate the increasing crowd at the summer conferences. The buildings all possess a wide degree of artistic beauty. The 270 acres belonging to the Seminary show good results from the time and money expended on them. The hillside, once so desolate, is covered with a beautiful turf. Well built roads wind through the grounds and from ten to twenty men are kept constantly employed. The entire production of the farm, with the exception of a few apples, are used by the farm or the school. While the price of board and tuition at the Seminary from the outset has been $100 a year, as before mentioned, yet it must not be supposed that this pays for the education of the girls. in point of fact it covers not more than one-half the running expenses of the school. The other half Mr. Moody became responsible for, and he toiled day and night, early and late, that he might make the education of these girls possible, and the schools a success.

I am very sure that no one could ever invest his money better than to help in the memorial endowment fund which is now being solicited throughout the country, that Mr. Moody's work may be perpetuated and grow in increasing usefulness.


The plan for a school where boys could have a training in elementary English branches and also the Bible, really dates back to Mr. Moody's mission work in Chicago, and he never abandoned his purpose. Four miles distant from the Young Ladies' Seminary, on the opposite side of the river, the Mt. Hermon buildings, composing the Mt. Hermon School for young men are to be found. While the plan was conceived earlier it was carried out later than that of the Northfield Seminary, but it is not to be placed second in point of influence; side by side these two institutions have come along together to positions of influence and power.

In 1880 the ground for Mt. Hermon was purchased. Through the generosity of Mr. Hiram Camp, Mr. Moody was fortunately able to secure his farms, and subsequent purchases have put the boys' school in possession of more than 700 acres of ground. The price of board and tuition is the same as at the girls' school, and it was Mr. Moody's plan to have the work of the house and the farm performed by the boys themselves. For two years the school numbered not more than twenty-five boys, the ages ranging from eight to eighteen. Two farm houses served as dormitories and a small building was erected to serve as a schoolhouse. It was soon decided that better results would be obtained by admitting only older boys, and the minimum age of admission was made sixteen. In 1882 five brick cottages were built, four of which were used as dormitories, and the middle one designed to serve as a kitchen from which the meals were carried to the other buildings. Since then there have been added a three-story recitation hall, dining hall and kitchen, Crossley Hall and Silliman Science Hall.

Mt. Hermon gives a good education to boys who have been deprived of earlier advantages, and who cannot attend more expensive schools. The industrial system of Mt. Hermon tends to exclude undesirable students. In their spare time boys are allowed to do overwork, for which they are paid. Many of the students remain at Mt. Hermon throughout the year because they have no homes, or because they desire to earn money. during the vacation pupils pay three dollars a week for board. However, this is not paid in money but in work.


The educational plan in Mt. Hermon, as in all other institutions associated with Mr. Moody's name, centres around the Bible, and the results are apparent in the large number of students engaged in home and foreign missionary work.

People sneered in the beginning at the idea of an uneducated evangelist teaching the youth anything about education, but as the buildings rose one after the other their sneers soon changed to astonishment, and now one only hears words of praise for this noble work. Mr. Moody had the most supreme faith in God as touching this educational work at Northfield. He knew that God had laid it on his heart, and was persuaded that He would help him to carry it through.

I remember his telling at one time an incident which had to do with the completion of one of the buildings. They were out of money, and the work could not go on unless the money should be provided, so he made his way up to his study, wrote the strongest letter he could to a great business man, and told him that he must have several thousand dollars at once. When the letter was finished he put it on a chair before him and got down upon his knees to pray God that this letter should accomplish the object he had in mind. The letter went on its way and reached the business man in his home as he sat at the breakfast table. He read it with indifference, and then for some reason read it the second time, with a little bit of interest. For some reason he could not explain he read it the third time, and then went to his library and wrote a check for the full amount, saying in the letter which accompanied the check, "for some reason unaccountable I am unable to get away from your request, and I send you my check as you desire. I am sending it to you from my home for fear that I might change my mind when I reach my place of business."


Incidents like this could be multiplied without number, and when one looks at Mt. Hermon, studies its great buildings, familiarizes himself with the number of lives that have come forth from the school to make the world better and brighter, and then studies the whole of Mr. Moody's plant, his first impression is one of wonder and admiration, the second a feeling of gratitude that he has an object lesson proving the truth that, if God only has His way with His own, the day of miracles is not past.

I wish I might put into this chapter an appeal to philanthropists everywhere to support the work of this man who was sent from God. I am persuaded that the blessing of God will be on one who in any way answers the appeal sent forth.

There is a third institution at Northfield which should not be overlooked. On Friday, June 1, 1888, "The Northfield" was opened to the public. It is a fine hotel, designed expressly to meet the needs of the many who annually visit Northfield, who attend the summer conferences, or as friends of the two schools. It was opened with an overflow of guests. It was at this hotel that the friends of Mr. Moody gathered on the night preceding his funeral and the evening following it, and it is in this hotel that the Moody Training School for Women meets.


In his work in Chicago, and in his evangelistic work throughout the world, Mr. Moody had learned to appreciate the especial influence of women in ministering to the poor. He also found that it was almost impossible to secure the right standard of women to do the work he had in mind. Sometimes their influence was marred by inexperience, more frequently by lack of training. He determined to start a training school which city churches and mission fields could draw upon, not for highly educated missionaries, but for Christian women who could be trained especially in Bible knowledge and domestic economy.

The Northfield Hotel was an eyesore to Mr. Moody because it was empty from October to the end of March. He determined that this should not be so, and in 1890, the first term of the training school began there. Fifty-six students took up residence at once, and the next year the numbers were quite doubled. In addition to systematic Bible study, the pupils are taught such branches of domestic economy as will make them useful in their work with the poor, and they are especially instructed in preparation of foods for the sick.

It seems an incredible thing that a man without education himself, as the world speaks of him, should have been used of God to establish a work which in many ways is the wonder of all who see it, but it is an illustration of the fact, that we can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth us.

Chapter 15

The Northfield Conference and the Student Volunteers
Various Bible Conferences - The Pre- Eminence of Northfleld - The Beginnings and the Growth of the Conference – The Student Volunteers - Missionary Interest Awakened.

This is a day in which God is using in a very remarkable way what is known as the Bible Conference. In many parts of the country there are annual summer gatherings of Christian people for the study of God's Word. The number is rapidly increasing, and the growth of some of these conferences is really remarkable. In a sense, at least, the Northfield Conference which came out of the heart and the deep study of D. L. Moody, is responsible for them all.


There has been annually, until within the past two years, a gathering of earnest, active Christians at Niagara, on the Lake, and some of the most widely known Bible students in the country have gathered there to consult together concerning the things of the Kingdom. The teaching at this conference has been largely along dispensation lines, and the prominent truth presented in all their services has been the return of the Lord, while the majority of the teachers at Northfield have not only accepted, but strongly advocated the truth known as the "blessed hope". Still Mr. Moody had one characteristic which impressed itself on all his associates. He would not exalt one truth at the expense of another, and so Northfield has not been known as the place where any particular line of truth was promulgated. If any exception could be taken to this statement it would be in favor of those truths which contribute to the deepening of the spiritual life.

Another widely known Bible Conference, which is certainly in existence because of the influence of Northfield, is the Winona gathering at Winona Lake, Ind. For five years the Christians of the Middle and Western states in increasing numbers have gathered there for the same kind of work that was done at Northfield. Mr. Moody has ever contributed to the effectiveness of the Conference by sending such speakers as the Rev. G. H. C. MacGregor, the Rev. G. Campbell Morgan, the Rev. F. B. Meyer, and the Rev. J. G. Cunningham. The gathering has increased from thirty-five, the first year, to more than 1,500 at the last annual meeting. I desire personally to say that Winona owes to Mr. Moody more than it can ever repay.


One of the most celebrated conferences abroad is that which meets in the early summer at Keswick, a town of Cumberland, England, on the south bank of the Greta, twenty-four miles from Carlisle. The first convention was held in July, 1875, and was only for the purpose of experiencing a fuller spiritual life. It has been thought by many that the Keswick movement stood for the promotion of the doctrine of "sinless perfection". This is most untrue. It does stand for the very highest type of Christian living, and in every way stands for the exaltation and manifestation of Christ in the life. There are six successive stages that ought to be indicated in connection with Keswick, for they have widely influenced the Northfield teachers, especially those from abroad. They are named in the order of their importance.

1. The definite and immediate abandonment of every known sin or hindrance to holy living.

2. The abandonment and renunciation by faith of the self-life, or the life, that centers in self-indulgence and self-dependence.

3. The immediate surrender of the will in loving and complete obedience to the will of God, separation for the purpose of consecration.

4. The infilling of the Holy Spirit, or the claiming of the believer's shave in the Spirit's Pentecostal gift of power for service.

5. The revelation of Christ as an indwelling presence in the believer's soul and daily life, and as his actual Master and Lord.

6. Beyond these there is always a sixth and last stage of teaching the privileges and victories implied in this higher or deeper life, such as the rest life of faith, power over sin, passion for souls, conscious fellowship with God, growing possession of promises, and prevailing prayer and intercession.


The basis of all this teaching is, as is very apparent, the conviction that the average Christian life is too often grievously destitute of real spiritual power and is essentially carnal; and that it is the duty and privilege of every child of God to enter at once into newness of life, and to walk henceforth in the power of Christ's resurrection.

But Northfield is pre-eminently, in the judgment of many people, the most important gathering of Bible students in this country, if not in the world. Thousands of lives have been transformed, by the power of the Conference, and one of the most notable gatherings in its history was that of last year when the entire Presbytery of New York met and were assigned to quarters in Weston Hall, attended regularly the services, and came back literally filled with the Spirit of God, the result being that the whole city of New York has seemed to feel the touch of the power that rested upon them and there is scarcely a Presbyterian Church in the city that has not had remarkably large additions as either a direct or indirect result of this last summer Conference.

However much Mr. Moody's friends may have to say of him in meetings in other places, it is certainly true that he was at his best