THE LIFE AND WORK OF
DWIGHT LYMAN MOODY
J. Wilbur Chapman
About This Book
Dwight L. Moody was undoubtedly one of the greatest evangelists of all
time and someone who saw genuine revival, at times, during his
ministry. This was particularly true during his early ministry in Britain.
His practical and organised approach to evangelism has served as a
model for crusade evangelism down to the present day. Although his
ministry was based a Chicago, Moody travelled more than a
million miles and preached to more than a 100 million people during his
extraordinarily fruitful ministry.
This book, unlike some others on Moody (and there are many), does not
major on his revival experiences but is valuable in it's presentation of the
broader life and ministry of this prince of evangelists.
Copyright: The original work is in the public domain
Preface
I have received numerous invitations 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.
First. 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.
Second. 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.
Third. 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
judgment 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.
Detailed Contents
Chapter 1 - INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER
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.
Chapter 2 NORTHFIELD
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.
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.
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.
Chapter 5 HIS CONVERSION
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.
Chapter 6 SUNDAY SCHOOL WORK
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.
Chapter 7 THE YOUNG MEN'S CHRISTIAN ASSOCIATION 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.
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
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.
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.
Chapter 11 EVANGELISTIC WORK 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.
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."
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.
Chapter 14 THE NORTHFIELD SCHOOLS
Marvellous Educational Work - The Beginnings of Northfield Seminary -
Three Great Ends in View - Mt. Hermon - The Northfleld Training School.
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
Chapter 16 THE CHICAGO BIBLE INSTITUTE
The Need of the Institution - The Practical Nature of the Work - Touching
Requests for Prayer - The Rev. R. A. Torrey - The Women's Department.
Chapter 17 THE WORLD'S FAIR CAMPAIGN
The First Meeting - How Mr. Moody Vivified the Work - The Reports of
Co-Workers - The Monday Conferences - Meetings For Children.
Chapter 18 THE LAST CAMPAIGN
Mr. Moody Goes to Kansas City - The Great Convention Hall - Inspiring
Opening Services - The Beginning of the End - Mr. Moody Breaks Down -
Back to Northfleld.
Chapter 19 MR. MOODY AS AN EVANGELIST
D. L. Moody an Evangelist in the Truest Sense of the Word - Especially
Adapted to His Work - His Dread of Notoriety - His Views on Sudden
Conversion.
Chapter 20 HIS BIBLE
A Book More Than Precious to Him - The Advice of Harry Moorehouse -
Mr. Moody's Ideas Concerning the Way to Use God's Word.
Chapter 21 HIS CO - WORKERS
Ira David Sankey - Paul P. Bliss - Major Whittle - Henry Varley - John
McNeill - George C. Stebbins - Ferdinand Schiverea - H. M. Wharton - R.
A. Torrey - A. C. Dixon - Henry Drummond - G. Campbell Morgan -
George H. Macgregor - F. B. Meyer.
Chapter 22 THREE CHARACTERISTIC SERMONS
Characteristics of the Three Sermons - God's Love - The Excuses of Men -
Reaping Whatsoever We Sow.
Chapter 23 HIS BEST ILLUSTRATIONS
The Fervour of His Eloquence - "Let the Lower Lights Be Burning" - "For
Charlie's Sake" - A Penalty Necessary - Calling on God - One Year's
Record.
Chapter 24 REVIVAL CONVENTIONS
A Typical Convention - What is Evangelistic Service? - We Want New
hymns - Apt Replies to Questions.
Chapter 25 HOW TO STUDY THE BIBLE
A Characteristic Bible Reading - Helpful Auxiliaries to Bible Study - Jesus
the Key to the New Testament - The Four Gospels - Six Things Worth
Knowing - How Christ Dealt With Sinners.
Chapter 26 HIS CREED - THREE CARDINAL TRUTHS
His View Concerning the Word of God - The Second Coming of Christ -
The Work of Experience the Holy Ghost - A Blessed
Chapter 27 THE FUNERAL
Mr. Moody's Last Moments - A Triumphant Passing Away – Funeral
Services - Addresses by Dr. Scofield, Dr. Weston, Dr. Chapman, Bishop
Mallalieu, Mr. Torrey, and others.
Chapter 28 ROUNDTOP, WHERE MR. MOODY LOVED TO
SPEAK AND WHERE HE WAS BURIED
Mr. Moody's Remains Taken to Round top - A Place of Blessing - Round
top Particularly identified With Mr. Moody.
Chapter 29 MEMORIAL SERVICES
The Great Meeting in New York - Impressive Addresses - Estimates of
Mr. Moody by Dr. Greer, Mr. John R. Mott, Mr. Cutting, Dr. Buckley, and
Others who Knew and Loved Him.
Chapter 30 APPRECIATIONS BY EMINENT FRIENDS
Testimony to Mr. Moody's Wonderful Personality—The Opinions of
Prominent Men who Knew Him and His Work—The Universal Regard in
Which He Was Held.
Chapter 31 EDITORIAL ESTIMATES OF HIS CHARACTER
Important Tributes from the Secular and Religious Press - All Men Eager
to Admit Mr. Moody's Greatness - What He Accomplished for the
Betterment of Mankind.
Chapter 32 THE PERSONAL SIDE OF MR. MOODY
Personal Characteristics - His Hold Upon His Friends – His Charming
Social Side - His Kindliness, Modesty and Unselfishness
Chapter 33 PERSONAL REMINISCENCES OF D. L. MOODY
By Rev. H. M. Wharton, D.D. An Estimate of Mr. Moody, based on
intimate association with him and long knowledge of his work.
Chapter 34 A MONTH WITH MR. MOODY IN CHICAGO
By Rev. H. M. Wharton, RD. Mr. Moody as He Appeared to one of his
Prominent Co-Workers during the World's Fair Campaign.
Appreciations
THE GREATNESS OF MR. MOODY 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 un-seldom almost to
sublimity.
In largeness of heart, in breadth of view, in single-eyed-ness and
humility, in teachable-ness and self-obliterations in sheer goodness and
love, none can stand beside him.
THE LAST OF THE GREAT GROUP 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 un-churched
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 every whither 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.
MOODY AS A PROPHET 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.
WHAT IS A PROPHET?
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 humour, 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.
TAUGHT OF GOD'S SPIRIT
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 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
tardier.
HIS BAPTISM OF THE HOLY GHOST
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 neighbourhood 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 I. Introductory Chapter
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 Christ-like
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.
EARLY ACQUAINTANCE WITH MR. MOODY
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.
A MOST PROFOUND INFLUENCE
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.
AT THE WORLD'S FAIR MEETING IN CHICAGO
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
tenderest 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 also 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.
MOODY CONDUCTING MEETINGS
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.
A MASTER IN MOVING MEN
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.
A BLESSING TO HAVE KNOWN HIM
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.'
"DEATH HAS NO TERROR TO ME"
"George Muller was such an argument and example incarnated in human
flesh. Flesh 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 the Christian Herald, is a confirmation of this:
"EAST NORTHFIELD, MASS. Dec. 22.
"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"
A WONDERFUL LIFE
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."
A BEAUTIFUL HOME
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.
THOUGHTFUL OF OTHERS
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 JUST WANTED TO BE WITH YOU"
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.
"HE HAS FORGIVEN ME!"
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 POWER OF GOD ON HIS WORK
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 THE EVANGELIST
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."
PROFESSOR DRUMMOND ON MOODY
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 II. Northfield
How 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.
NORTHFIELD IS NOT A MODERN TOWN
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.
THE FIRST SETTLERS
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.
THE SECOND SETTLEMENT
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
Northfield 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 Britain.
AFTER THE REVOLUTION
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 sentinel-ship.
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.
HIS BIRTHPLACE
Mr. Moody's birthplace is a plain, small farmhouse, 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.
THE CONCEPTION OF NORTHFIELD SEMINARY
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 un-stimulating 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.
THE MOUNT HERMON SCHOOL FOR BOYS
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
farmhouses 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 CHARACTER OF THE TOWN
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 III. His Early Life
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 un-provided for.
A SUDDEN UPHEAVAL OF THE FAMILY
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 CALAMITY AFTER ANOTHER
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.
HIS BROTHER HOME AGAIN
"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.
INCIDENTS FROM MOODY'S DAYS
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.
AGAIN 'SEEK FIRST THE KINGDOM OF GOD'
"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.
HIS EARLY EDUCATION
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":
"THE LAW PARTY AND GRACE PARTY"
"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."
DEPARTURE FROM HOME
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.
YOUNG MOODY LOOKING FOR A JOB
"Dwight was a headstrong 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 IV. His Mother
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.
A PICTURE NEVER TO BE FORGOTTEN
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."
HIS MOTHERS BLESSING
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
mountaintop, 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.
HER PURITAN ANCESTRY
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.
YOUNG MOODY AT THE VILLAGE SCHOOL
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 loath as the average young boy to
endure the discipline of the schoolroom. 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
HIS MOTHERS CONVERSION
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 fervour 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:
HIS TRIBUTE TO HIS MOTHER
"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 honour
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.
IT IS A GREAT THING TO HAVE SUCH A GREAT MOTHER
"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"
"THE BIGGEST LOAD OF WOOD I EVER SAW"
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.
IN TIME TO RECEIVE HER BLESSING
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.
VERSES SHE 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.
I HONOR HER FOR THE PUNISHMENT I GOT
"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 also
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
"SHE WAS TRUE AS SUNLIGHT"
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 V. His Conversion
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."
HIS FIRST ACQUAINTANCE WITH MR E. D. KIMBALL
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 types. Mere
literal instruction on Sunday did not satisfy his ideal of the teacher's 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.
JUST READY FOR THE LIGHT
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 shoebox. 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.'
APPLIES FOR ADMISSION INTO THE CHURCH.
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 the Christian 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.
TRUE EVIDENCE.
"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.
HIS FIRST EXAMINATION
"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.'"
MR. MOODY'S LIFE IN BOSTON
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.
"LET THE LEAVEN WORK"
"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."
A CHANGED LIFE
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 enou