MR.MOODY turned a deaf ear to all the invitations that poured in from London during his first two years in Great Britain, for the spirit of unity in the earlier calls that would indicate the cooperation of all denominations was at first lacking, and until this was assured he did not feel that the time was ripe.
When he was in Edinburgh, Hugh M. Matheson, a London businessman, made the trip to the Scottish metropolis to hear him. It was the last day of the meetings; there was the usual large attendance, and Mr. Matheson found no opportunity to present the invitation that he had brought with him. Afterward he went to Thurso, where they had a delightful interview.
They discussed London and the best means of preparing for a mission there, should he see his way to undertake it.
During all the missions in Scotland and Ireland, as well as in the large manufacturing centers, the work had been fully reported in “The
Christian,” of London. Thousands of copies of this paper had been sent to the clergymen of Great Britain, and the movement had been closely
followed by the Christian public. Appreciating the benefit of such a
medium, Mr. Moody wished to distribute the paper still more widely over England, and Mr. Matheson agreed to raise a fund of £2,000 to circulate the paper gratuitously for three months to thirty thousand clergymen and nonconformist ministers all over England. The accounts which it gave of the remarkable movement in Scotland stimulated the desire for a similar work in London.
While the evangelists were in Dublin the final arrangements were made, and the central noon prayer meeting at Moorgate Street Hall, London, adopted the following resolution:
“That, in accordance with the suggestion of Mr. Moody, it is hereby determined to arrange for special evangelistic work in
London during four months of next year; namely, March, April, May, and June; that a fund of not less than £10,000 be placed in the hands of the treasurer, and that men of distinguished
evangelistic gifts heartily interested in the work be invited not only from other parts of England, but also from America, Scotland, and Ireland, to assist in the movement.”
Four centers were selected for preaching places: Agricultural Hall at
Islington in North London, seating 13,700 persons, with standing room for four or five thousand more; Bow Road Hall in the extreme east, with 10,000 sittings; the Royal Opera House in the West End, in the
aristocratic quarter of Westminster, and Victoria Theater in the south, and later, Camberwell Green Hall.
The need for evangelistic services in London at that time may be gathered from statistics which were published shortly before Mr. Moody went to the metropolis. The promoters of special services in theaters and music halls made the following statement concerning the city’s need, in the report of their fifteenth series of services:
“117,000 habitual criminals are on its police register, increasing at an average of 30,000 per annum;
“More than one-third of all the crime in the country is committed in London;
“23,000 persons live in its common lodging-houses;
“Its many beer shops and gin palaces would, if placed side by side, stretch from Charing Cross to Portsmouth, a distance of 73 miles;
“38,000 drunkards appear annually before its magistrates;
“It has as many paupers as would occupy every house in Brighton;
“It has upward of a million habitual neglecters of public worship;
“It has 60 miles of shops open every Lord’s day;
“It has need of 900 new churches and chapels, and 200 additional city missionaries.”
All through the months of January and February extensive preparations were made for the intended meetings. No movement within the memory of those then living had so bound together the clergymen and Christian workers of various denominations. Had the meetings not been held, the preparations for them would, in themselves, have been a great blessing.
On Friday, February 5, 1875, Free Masons’ Hall in London was crowded with ministers and other Christian workers from all parts of London and its suburbs to confer with Moody in reference to the services soon to begin. There were nearly two thousand persons present at one of the largest and most varied meetings of the ministerial order ever held for any purpose in England. Representative men from all the evangelical churches were there, and there was besides a contingent from the ritualistic clergy, who had scarcely been expected. Prebendary Auriol and Mr. Kitto headed a strong phalanx of evangelical churchmen; Dr. Moffat, Dr. Stoughton, Mr.
Hannay, Dr. Llewelyn Bevan, and Mr. Braden were among the
Congregational ministers who answered to the summons; the venerable Charles Stovel was one of the many Baptists; the Presbytery sent a formidable array, among whom were Doctors Edmonds, Fraser, Dykes, Paterson, and Thain Davidson; while the various branches of the great Methodist body attended in great numbers.
The chair was occupied by Mr. Stone, of Blackheath, a London merchant.
Mr. Moody made a brief statement. There were, he said, many obstacles to the proposed work in London, which could be put out of the way if they could only meet together and come to an understanding. He found some of the very best men kept out of the work because they heard this and that. Perhaps some things they heard were true and some not; and if they only had a “fair and square” understanding, he thought it would be helpful. He spoke frankly to his new friends, telling them that the great difficulty with which they had to contend was prejudice, and he urged the ministers to come into sympathy with the work at the beginning, and invited questions from every one.
He spoke of the prejudice of some people against the inquiry room, and explained in detail the method, that those who were present might judge for themselves. A charge of undue excitement in the meetings had been made. This was also erroneous. Very often in a room with a hundred
inquirers one could hear scarcely a whisper. Concerning the sale of the hymn books he said:
“A great deal has been said about our making a fine thing
financially out of this movement from the sale of the hymn books, organs, etc. Now I desire to say that up to the first of January we received a royalty from the publishers of our hymn books, but from that date, when the solo book was enlarged, we determined not to receive anything from the sale, and have requested the publishers to hand over the royalty upon all our hymn books to one of your leading citizens, Mr. H. M. Matheson, who will devote the same to such charitable objects as may be decided upon.
“In regard to the organ question, I want to say, once for all, that we are not selling organs — that is not our mission, nor are we agents for the sale of organs; nor do we receive a commission or
compensation in any way whatever from any person or persons for the organ that Mr. Sankey uses at our meetings.
“I hope now that no one here will think that I have made these statements to create financial sympathy in our behalf. We do not want your money; we want your confidence, and we want your sympathy and prayers, and as our one object in coming here is to preach Christ, we believe we shall have them, and that with God’s blessing we shall see many brought into His fold. If we make mistakes, come and tell us. Then I shall not fear for the result.”
Many questions were asked Mr. Moody, and many misstatements
corrected. One clergyman wished to know whether the work had the effect of estranging people from the communion. If so, he could not uphold the mission without being false to his ordination vows and the Holy Ghost.
Mr. Moody replied that his one object was to preach the Gospel, a statement which was greeted with cheers.
The next questioner wanted to know if it were true that a Roman Catholic took the chair at one of Mr. Moody’s meetings in Ireland. Mr. Moody said that he was not responsible for the chairman, and added, amid
laughter, that his meetings were attended by “Jew, Greek, and barbarian.”
One clergyman asked Mr. Moody to print his creed before he came to London.
“My creed is in print,” was the ready response.
“Where?” was the general inquiry, as many people reached for their note books.
“In the fifty-third chapter of Isaiah,” was the reply.
His answer was entirely satisfactory, and there was no further question as to Mr. Moody’s orthodoxy.
The opening meeting at Agricultural Hall was held on Tuesday evening, March 9, and the noon meeting at Exeter Hall on the following day. The house-to-house visitation committee had been actively at work, and in the noon prayer meeting at Moorgate Street Hall there was a decided increase of interest and fervor. Prayer meetings had also been held in Agricultural Hall for a month, attended by more than a thousand people.
The campaign was an unquestionable success from the outset. Many of the leading evangelical ministers and laymen of London were on the
platform at the first service. The hall was quickly filled, seats and standing room, and thousands went away disappointed, though 17,000 people were crowded into the great building.
Mr. Moody won all hearts in the very beginning by asking the vast audience to “praise God for what He was going to do in London.” He added that he had received dispatches from many cities in Great Britain saying that the Christians were praying for London, and then he prayed with great fervor that a blessing might come upon the city, thanking God for the spirit of unity among the ministers and praying that there might be no strife among them.
In his address he expressed his early fear that if he should come to London many people would be led to trust too much to the excitement of the great meetings, at the risk of having their eyes turned away from God. Those who had come expecting to hear a new Gospel would be disappointed. He had the same old story to tell that the ministers whom he saw before him had preached and were preaching in their churches and chapels. Referring to the men, weak in the estimation of the world, whom the Lord had used
to do a great work for humanity, he said that it was not good preachers that were wanted in London, for probably at no time had the city possessed so many great preachers as then.
The belief of every individual Christian should be, not that “God can use me,” but “He will use me.” What was wanted was that they should be out and out on the Lord’s side, heart and brain on fire for Him, ready to use every power and every opportunity for service. He also spoke of the necessity for perfect unity in carrying on the work, and expressed a hope that ministers, Sabbath school superintendents, teachers, and parents would all be found working and praying for the success of the movement.
The first Sunday afternoon the great hall was nearly filled with women, and in the evening it was crowded to its utmost capacity with men. In order to reach different classes of people, Mr. Moody began to repeat his afternoon sermon in the evening, in the hope that those who came to one service would stay away from the other to make room for different audiences.
The noon meetings in Exeter Hall were crowded day after day, and reports of the work throughout the Kingdom were received and many requests made for prayer. But the enthusiasm was not confined to Mr. Moody’s meetings. At the East End Tabernacle the Rev. Archibald G. Brown had the pleasure of seeing two thousand members of his evening congregation remain to an after meeting, and instead of the churches and chapels
declining in interest, as it was feared, they were filled as they had not been before. The best of the work was in the inquiry room, where earnest workers found plenty of scope for their zeal and more for their wisdom and tact.
From the outset attention was directed to Christians, Mr. Moody saying that “he would rather wake up a slumbering church than a slumbering world,” and that “the man who does the most good in the world is not the man who works himself, but the man who sets others to work.” He was able to help people more in a few minutes in the inquiry room than he could in a whole sermon.
“You have had enough of pulpit preaching,” he said, “and very good preaching too; what we want now is hand-to-hand work,
personal effort, individuals going to people and pressing on them the claims of Christ.”
One woman, eighty-five years old, asked for a part in the house-to- house visitation. She said:
“I must do something; I am getting old, but I will take a district.”
“Only think of that,” was Mr. Moody’s comment. “This old lady, who has lived fifteen years on borrowed time, has taken a district and started out.”
She went to one house where the people were Roman Catholics, and wanted them to take a leaflet announcing the meetings, but they pushed it away.
“Well,” she said, “if you won’t read it I will read it to you,” and she did.
“Of course they couldn’t put out a woman eighty-five years old,” said Mr. Moody. “Nobody could think of doing that. It stirred me greatly. It ought to shame us all. Every young man and woman who is not at work ought to be ashamed.” He concluded his address by calling for a thousand men and women who would join him in an effort to win one soul to Christ during the week, and in answer to his question: “Who will join me?” the greater part of the congregation stood up.
It must not be supposed that Mr. Moody was entirely free from criticism.
The infidel in the street and an occasional editor in his office vented his spite against religion by attacking those who came to proclaim it. As the crowds gathered for the opening service, false handbills were distributed, pretending to describe the sermons that were about to be delivered.
The “Vanity Fair” outside the great hall in the evening has been described by an eye-witness:
“Many policemen to keep the way; multitudes of young men full of fun and joking; multitudes also of evil women and girls, gaily dressed, joining in the ribaldry; the two together forming a mass of well-dressed but disreputable blackguardism, proving to
demonstration that the American evangelists had come at last
exactly where they were sorely needed. Omnibus-men, cabmen, tramcar-men, board-men, and loafers of every description took part in the universal carnival. Oaths, jests, slang, and mockery were all let loose together; but not one serious face, not one thoughtful countenance, not an idea of God’s judgment or of eternity in all the vast changing multitude outside.
“After the service inside had ended, and partly during its continuance, detachments of choirs belonging to the neighboring missions had stationed themselves near the hall and occupied themselves in singing the ‘Songs and Solos’ and delivering
addresses of the briefest character. But all seemed in vain; the very spirit of mockery seemed to possess the great majority. There was nothing like spiteful opposition, much less of interference; the singers and speakers were merely regarded as amiable enthusiasts, who had rashly delivered themselves to the merciless mockery of a London mob.”
The mob was not the only form of opposition. “The Saturday Review”
expressed surprise that “so many persons go to hear the Americans. As for Moody, he is simply a ranter of the most vulgar type. His mission appears to be to degrade religion to the level of the ‘penny gaff.’”
“The New York Times,” at that time, was nearly as strong in its opposition to the evangelists. In its issue of June 22, 1875, in an editorial column, this statement occurred:
“We are credibly informed that Messrs. Moody and Sankey were sent to England by Mr. Barnum as a matter of speculation.”
The London society papers devoted a great deal of attention to Mr.
Moody on this visit. Caricatures of him and Mr. Sankey appeared in
“Vanity Fair.” The tone of the articles and paragraphs describing the meetings was at first contemptuous, but as eminent leaders of society began to attend, it became more sympathetic and respectful. “Mr.
Moody,” says one writer, “is a heavy-looking individual, with a nasal twang and a large fund of (to English ears) slightly irreverent anecdote.”
Curious reports of Mr. Moody’s provincial tour went before him to London. “The World” said: “In many large English towns they (the
evangelists) had the satisfaction of throwing females into convulsions, and have been lucky enough to consign several harmless idiots to neighboring lunatic asylums.” Those who attended the meetings bore testimony that this element of violent excitement was totally absent from them.
A penny biography of Mr. Moody sold widely in the London streets that spring. Everything that could be done to counteract his influence and prejudice the public against him was attempted by certain papers.
Londoners were told that, “judged by the low standard of an American ranter, Mr. Moody is a third-rate star.” His reading of Scripture was severely blamed. “Mr. Moody, with a jocular familiarity which painfully jarred on our sense of the reverential, translated freely passages of the Bible into the American vernacular. The grand, simple stories of Holy Writ were thus parodied and burlesqued.” But in spite of all the hostility of the press, it soon became manifest, not only that the “common people heard him gladly,” but that society itself was moved and deeply impressed by his preaching. One of the first to attend the meetings was Lord Cairns, then Lord Chancellor in Mr. Disraeli’s government. He occupied a
prominent seat in the Agricultural Hall, Islington. Very soon nearly all the leaders of society had followed his example. The epithets “pernicious humbugs,” “crack-brained Yankee evangelists,” “pestilential vermin,”
“abbots of unreason,” with which the anti-Christian press pelted the preachers, gave way to much more polite language when the highest in the land were numbered among their hearers.
The London papers had asserted that Moody and Sankey were financially interested in the sale of the cheap photographs sold on the streets,
although these were uniformly little more than caricatures. A photographer in one of the largest provincial towns, seeing these criticisms, wrote a letter to “The Times” stating that he had offered Moody and Sankey
£1,000 (about $5,000) if they would sit for a photograph and allow him to copyright it, but that the offer was refused. The publication of this letter had a remarkable effect in establishing confidence.
In striking contrast with this flippant attitude was a leading article in “The London Times,” which referred pleasantly to Mr. Sankey’s singing, and then added: