After their amazing success here eight years earlier, Moody and Sankey were based here for six months.
"HOW Mr Moody and Mr Sankey stand it!" is the wonder on every lip now. Full pressure has been on for some weeks, and it is probable that the evangelists never worked harder in their lives. Take a specimen of their programme. Any day almost will do, but suppose we select Good Friday. At twelve both put in their usual appearance at the noon meet - Mr Moody presides and speaks. As a variation from the three o'clock Bible reading a children's meeting has been announced for four in the St Andrew's Hall. To hold 6,000 children for an hour is a feat which few men would attempt,—I fancy it has never been done in this country before; but I shall reserve my account of this meeting until I have exhausted the record of the day's work, which, with two meetings past, nevertheless but begun.
At seven o'clock preacher and singer thread their way through a dense crowd choking the aisles of Dr Andrew Bonar's church. The audience is mixed, and the church-goers and Christians have denied themselves the right to their own pews, and are now holding a prayer meeting in an adjoining hall. For half an hour the choir and congregation have been singing hymns, and, after prayer and a formal opening with praise, Mr SANKEY sits down, amid a profound hush, to a solo. Then prayer and another solo, and the singer quietly slips from his place behind the organ; in another minute he is being whisked off in a cab, which has stood in readiness at the door, to begin a meeting in the Circus at eight.
The Circus lies almost in the heart of the East-end - at the very antipodes from Dr Bonar's Church, - and the hour is but striking when Mr Sankey mounts the extemporized platform at the side of the ring and looks around on the vast crowd of men—for they are all men this time - with as much of earnest interest as if this were the only audience of his life. This perpetual freshness of the work to the workers must be a hard thing to maintain, but, being thoroughly maintained, it is one great secret of their power. Other workers secretly sometimes feel the work getting a little hackneyed; one gets familiar with blessing and takes conversion as a thing of course. But it is not so here. Not only every meeting, but every "case," is as if it were the first. Mr Moody preaches and Mr Sankey sings as if the truth they uttered had just fastened itself upon themselves a moment ago. They are always, therefore, freshly en rapport not only with their truth but with their hearers; and truth, in such circumstances, is borne in upon the soul of an audience as a revelation.
Mr Sankey has no more appreciative hearers than these rough East-enders, and the testimony meeting on Mondays never fails to bring to light instances of awakening and conversion under the spell of one or other of the "Songs and Solos". Mr Sankey is ably assisted in the Circus meetings by Mr Scroggie, and at the close of the address, the ring is always filled with inquirers, who may sometimes be numbered almost by hundreds.
Meantime Mr Moody has handled his large congregation at Finnieston, delivered a powerful address, and, leaving the inquiry meeting in safe keeping, goes off on the stroke of eight to Cranstonhill. There another large audience, consisting wholly of men, are anxiously awaiting him. Into this new centre, he throws himself again with unflagging energy, betraying by no single symptom of weariness the herculean labours he has already gone through that day. An inquiry meeting follows, as exhausting, as everyone knows, to a true worker as an hour's preaching, and by ten o'clock the evangelist is released and driven across the city to his temporary home.
But I was to describe the children's meeting. Sitting in my house between two and three in the outskirts of Glasgow, I saw the unusual sight, at that time of day, of a procession of little folks filing past my window, two and two. It was Good Friday, and a school holiday and some kind teacher had marshalled the children—at least, so I concluded - and was now marching them and shortly followed in their wake. When I arrived at the hall, it was already crowded from floor to ceiling.
In all my life I have never seen such an audience. The children were swarming in dense seething clusters in every available corner, wedged round the galleries, packed in about the great organ, standing in the passages, perched on one another's knees, while from time to time a tender-hearted member of the choir would have a couple of standing urchins, restless and unwashed, hoisted up to the platform, where they were tucked in somehow about Mr Sankey's organ. Mr Moody was doing his best to keep their throats at least preoccupied with music, but I could see it was no easy task. Any other man's heart would certainly have failed him, but he rose to the occasion, and his great tact saved him in emergencies where there seemed nothing before us but a helpless collapse. After a little singing, an opening prayer was attempted, which was well attended to. Then a hint of the text was given - the word "Little"; and the eager audience proceeded to guess what it might be. The verdict was all but unanimous in favour of "Suffer the little children to come unto Me," but some were in favour of "Little children, love one another" and "Fear not little flock." Mr Moody, however, announced that it was neither. It was not in the New Testament at all. At last the riddle was solved by a little girl - "Little foxes which spoil the vine." Mr Moody explained in a very few touches how little sins spoil life, happiness, and peace; and then Mr Sankey rallied the audience at a critical moment with a solo. The piece was admirably chosen—the hymn with the refrain "By-and-bye"; and while Mr Sankey himself took the solo parts, the choir sang one-half of the chorus, and the children in the back gallery were requested to conclude it. After a trial the idea was caught up immediately, and I have seldom listened to anything more effective. The solo was heard breathlessly, and the choir sang "By-and-bye," and paused, while the repeater, taken up by the little choir at the far end of the great hall, had exactly the effect of a very perfect echo.
The song finished, Mr Moody proceeded to give a most extraordinary and original object lesson. He produced some half-dozen reels of white thread, and handing down one end to the audience, began to pay out the thread until, being passed along from hand to hand, it reached right down the audience from the platform to the opposite door. Then more thread was passed along the galleries, and in a few minutes the long white lines were stretching all over the hall. The excitement to know what all this meant now became intense, and Mr Moody had a good hearing when he went on to explain, "Could any boy or girl or child break that thread?" " Yes!" from a thousand voices. "Seize hold of it and try it—break it all to bits !" And the children fell upon it instanter and tore it into a thousand pieces.
Now said Mr Moody, "Although that thread is a very little thing, a thing which a little child can break, I could bind the strongest man with it. I could wind it round and round him until he was a helpless prisoner, and he could never break it and escape." Then he showed how this is like the little sins, which though they seem very feeble, wind themselves round and round the soul, and destroy it finally by their very multitude. With such an audience a lengthened address was an impossibility, and Mr Moody wisely concluded with a few more words. I am sure while life lasts no boy or girl present will ever forget the singular "thread" of this discourse.
Such is the outline of a day's work in Glasgow. And this goes on day after day, week after week. Some laugh, some mock, others criticize and hold aloof; but those who see the deeper inner side, thank God more and more every day that they are allowed to see this work of faith and labour of love. They feel that God's grace to the workers is quite as wonderful as his grace to the converts.
BY OUR OWN CORRESPONDENT.
In one of his addresses to a vast audience on Sabbath week, Mr Moody said that some persons made a god of gold, some of pleasure, or whisky, or business. We do not need to visit China to find idolatry. He was speaking on this subject the other day, and quoted the text, "Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you." A man came that evening to the inquiry meeting in Free St Mark's, and said, "I heard you speak in St. Andrew's Halls, and you said, '"Seek first the kingdom of God."' I am an artist. When in Paris I was told that if ever I intended to succeed, I must devote ail my time and energies to my profession - I must make up my mind to study six and even seven days in the week. Now, how can I seek first the kingdom of God, and yet be successful as an artist?" The man had put art first and made it his god.
This man is believed to have found Christ. He returned to the inquiry meeting the second night. The incident was mentioned by Mr Moody that night, and at the close of the usual service, another artist asked to be introduced to the person referred to. They proved to be friends, and the truth spoken having deeply impressed the second artist, one of the ministers was left to converse with him.
THE CONCLUDING BIBLE-LECTURES.
Among the memorable events of the visit of the evangelists at this time, none will stand out more prominently than the interesting Bible lectures given in St. Andrew's Halls to crowded audiences. It is calculated that these thirty-seven readings have been listened to by not fewer than 124,000 persons. The subject of the final lecture was the healing of the man who was let down through the roof into the presence of Christ. The former part of the reading bristled with quaint remarks. Said Mr Moody, "We are going to leave this part of the city. Are you going to act like the four men who brought their palsied friend to the Saviour, or are you going to settle down into formalism, or to cherish the spirit of the faultfinder, or to sink into indifference, or to wait until another wave of excitement comes to lift you up?" Burning words were addressed to the vast crowd, urging them to take part in the special work among the drunken men and women in the city. "We want workers who will put public opinion under their feet, and hasten to rescue the perishing. Some woman may say, 'What can I do?' Many things. You can pray, or you can go and sing the Gospel, which in that way has touched so many hearts. Others might furnish cast-off clothing for the children and wives of drunkards. Even those who are too old to go into the harvest field could say 'God bless you' to those who do go."
Of all the addresses we have heard, this was, we think, the most powerful. Old men and middle-aged men were overcome with emotion. The only marvel was that the speaker himself did not break down under the tide of feeling which prompted his soul-stirring appeal. We had in this one remarkable discourse an insight into the secret of Mr Moody's success - compassion for the perishing.
The prayer meeting which followed the address was held in Berkeley-street U.P. Church, the lower part of which was crowded. Many rose and asked to be prayed for, and several went into the inquiry room.
MEETINGS FOR DRUNKARDS.
Doubtless many wondered what response there would be to the invitation on large placards which read thus - "Can a drunkard be saved?" Come and hear this question answered in the Circus. The problem was soon solved; on Friday evening the great building was crowded in every part. There must have been present more than 3000. It was found necessary to open the large Albion Hall in College Street, and this being crowded, another overflow meeting was held in Argyle Hall, Duke Street. There were many present of the very class for whom the meetings were designed. Earnest workers had brought with them men and women in whose deliverance they were specially interested.
In the absence of Mr Sankey, through the illness of his eldest son, Miss Bonar and Mrs Hall presided at the organ. Great interest was manifested in the solos sung by these ladies, the truths conveyed in the songs must have found a response in the hearts of many who had come to the meeting oppressed and bound of Satan. Mr Moody founded his address on the three cases of "incurables" in Mark v. - viz., the man with the legion of demons, the woman who touched the hem of Christ's garment, and the daughter of Jairus. He encouraged the drunkards present by reminding them that was "impossible with men was possible with God." He related a very striking case that had come under his own notice, of a man who was a Cambridge graduate and a solicitor, and who by prayer obtained the victory over this besetting sin, which for years had threatened to ruin his soul.
Several reformed drunkards gave their experiences, and when the meeting broke up the workers were busily engaged with individual cases in all parts of the hall. One worker to whom we spoke told us she had written to a victim of the drink to come in by train from the country: she met this person at the station, led her to the meeting, and there she resolved, in the strength of the great Saviour, of whose power she had heard, never again to touch the accursed thing.
In the Albion Hall, Mr Hill conducted the meeting. Addresses were delivered by several ministers. Here also reclaimed drunkards bore testimony to the power of Divine grace to take away the craving for the drink. A considerable number stood up, expressing desire to be spoken with; and up to a late hour this personal dealing was going on in the three places of meeting.
THE EAST-END WORK.
Dear sir - A good deal has been said, written, and published, regarding the extended labours of our beloved brethren, Messrs Moody and Sankey, in the East-end of this city, as also of Messrs Scroggie and Hill, their able and devoted coadjutors for the time being. Too much cannot be said if spoken to the glory and praise of God alone.
The genuineness of the work may be inferred from its apparent permanence. Some time has now elapsed since the special meetings closed, yet the fruit remains. Several churches have received large accessions to their membership. Persons have sought church fellowship in numbers varying from forty or fifty to more than a hundred. Some very striking cases of conversions have taken place. None who professed faith in Christ have, so far as l can learn, gone back. Mission services and Bible classes are thronged by those who have received blessing. The spirit of the workers has received a finer edge; several have acquired an aptitude for dealing with inquirers. These, along with such as put their hands to this work before, experience a most ardent thirst for the salvation of those who are yet unsaved, and for the guidance of the young converts.
More fruit will be gathered yet. The day alone will declare the good that has been done. Months will elapse before local workers find out all that may be known. To God alone be all the praise.
Yours very truly,
Glasgow, April 14.
'The Christian," 20th April 1882.
In 1962 the halls were almost totally destroyed by fire. The facade in Granville street is all that remains and is now part of Mitchell Library. I do not know where the Circus was.