08. MOODY OF NORTHFIELD
MOODY OF NORTHFIELD IN the annals of the first great Moody and Sankey evangelistic mission to Great Britain, the name of F. B. Meyer is linked, inseparably, with that of D. L. Moody. The American evangelist, accompanied by his family and Ira D. Sankey, arrived in Liverpool, June 17, 1873. Their plans were inchoate, uncertain. Indeed, as Moody himself said, God seemed to have closed the doors. On the evening of his arrival, Moody, while going through his pockets in the Adelphi Hotel, came upon a letter that he had received just before leaving New York, and which he had carried across the Atlantic unopened. The writer was a Mr. Bennett, secretary of the Young Men’s Christian Association in the city of York, whom Moody had met in the West some years before. In his letter, Mr. Bennett informed Moody that he had heard and read with especial interest the glowing accounts of his (Moody’s) successful work among the young men of America, and expressing the hope that, in the event of the evangelist visiting England, he would find his way to York, and speak before the local branch of the Association. Moody immediately telegraphed Bennett, informing him of his arrival, and in response to a reply asking that a date be named for a conference, wired briefly: "I will be in York tonight." At ten o’clock the same evening, Moody reached the Yorkshire capital, of whose citizens none, except Bennett, had ever laid eyes on the American, and none, save three or four, who were familiar with his name. On the Sunday following, a Congregational pulpit was secured for Moody, and from it the evangelist’s first messages were delivered. The attendance was small, and the prevailing attitude towards the newcomers one of aloofness, if not positive disfavor. In the course of a few days, the evangelists went to Meyer, at that time pastor of Priory Street Baptist Chapel in the city. Here they were received with open arms and accorded the most cordial welcome. And thus it came about that in F. B. Meyer’s church Moody and Sankey virtually began their triumphant British tour. The first all-day meeting (later to become so prominent a feature in Moody’s program of activities) held in England was arranged by the evangelist and Meyer, as the two men walked up and down Cowley Street. It began at eleven, and continued for six hours. The first was an hour of confession and prayer; the second, an hour of praise; the third, was given over to testimony concerning the fulfillment of God’s promises in the lives of believers; the fourth, a witness meeting for young converts; during the fifth, a Bible address was delivered by Moody; while the final hour resolved itself into a communion service, conducted by F. B. Meyer and three other city ministers. The novelty of the service attracted a considerable attendance, and the meeting was voted an unqualified success. Five weeks of services, held in Meyer’s church, followed, and resulted in the professed conversion of several hundred people. From York Moody and Sankey went to Sunderland, where their meetings were still more largely attended than had been the case at York. What followed is written large in the records of the great evangelistic movement that marked the closing twenty-five years of the nineteenth century.
I have known Mr. Moody ever since a memorable Monday morning in 1873 [Meyer wrote, later]. I can see him now, standing up to lead the first noon prayer-meeting in a small, ill-lit room in Cowley Street, York, little realizing that it was the seed-germ of a mighty harvest, and that a movement was beginning that would culminate in a few months in Free Assembly Hall, Edinburgh, and ultimately in the Agricultural Hall and the Royal Opera House, London. It was the birth-time of new conceptions of ministry, new methods of work, new inspirations and hopes.
What an inspiration when this great and noble soul first broke into my life! I was a young pastor then, in the old city of York, and bound rather rigidly by the chains of conventionalism. Such had been my training, and such might have been my career. But here was revelation of a new ideal. The first characteristic of Mr. Moody’s that struck me was that he was so absolutely unconventional and natural. That a piece of work had generally been done after a certain method would probably be the reason why he would set about it in some fresh and unexpected way. That the new method startled people was the greater reason for continuing with it, if only it drew them to the Gospel. But there was never the slightest approach to irreverence, fanaticism, or extravagance; everything was in perfect accord with a rare common sense, a directness of method, a simplicity and transparency of aim, which were as attractive as they were fruitful in result. The first ten days of his meetings were only moderately successful, and he gladly accepted my invitation to come to the chapel where I ministered, and there we had a fortnight of most blessed and memorable meetings. The little vestry there---how vividly I remember it I-was the scene of our long and earnest prayers as we knelt around the leather-covered table in the middle of the room. Two Presbyterian students, from Dr. McKay’s church in Hull, brothers, often used to pray with us, and I remember that Mr. Moody, at the great Free Trade Hall, Manchester, referred to that little room as the fountain from which the river of blessing for the whole country had sprung.
Many recollections of those days come back as I write: How in the midst of tea at home Mr. Moody suddenly felt that he should preach his afterward famous sermon on Heaven, and started off on a three mile walk to fetch his notes; how Mr. Sankey went over to see Mr. Rees, of Sunderland, the sailor-preacher, of whom I had spoken to them, and proved his singing powers in the little back parlor of W. D. Longstaff, to the entire satisfaction of both minister and elder; how we had our all-day meeting, the first of its kind in England; and how the fire of God burnt hot in all our hearts. Ah, blessed days! that will live as long as memory endures, days of Heaven, of wonder, of a new and brilliant constellation in one’s sphere, of the beginning of a life-long devotion to another man, which has only ripened and deepened with every succeeding year. Not least among the spiritual benefits which followed Moody’s visit to York was that which came to F. B. Meyer. It was during these meetings that he caught a glimpse of a wider, larger life that had been vouchsafed him, hitherto, one in which mere denominationalism had no place, and in which there was but one standard by which to measure men-their devotion to, and knowledge of, the Son of God. From this position he never receded. While willing and ready to devote his energies to those with whom his belief on one great subject necessarily allied him, yet he refused to regard himself as a mere denominationalist, and gloried most in being a member of the one Church, catholic and universal, and the brother of all who loved the Lord in truth and sincerity.
All this was in 1873, when Moody was thirty-six, and Meyer twenty-six. In the years that followed, both men attained to high place in the ranks of those whose lives were wholly consecrated to the proclamation of a Gospel of salvation, through Jesus Christ the Lord. Moody paid a second visit to Great Britain, and proceeded to found his famous East Northfield Conferences. Meyer had become known (at Keswick and elsewhere) as one of the most effective convention speakers then living, and in 1891 Moody invited him to Northfield. His visit was eagerly anticipated by large numbers of people in America, who had come to know the English preacher largely through his published writings. On his first Northfield appearance, one writer, contemporary with those days, wrote in the following strain: The announcement that Rev. F. B. Meyer, of Regent’s Park Chapel, London, would be one of the speakers at the Northfield Conference this year was received with great satisfaction, as there was a keen desire to see his face and hear his voice. Indeed, the announcement of his coming to Northfield was hailed with joy by many who had been helped and blessed through the ministry of his pen, and he has endeared himself to all as a preacher of rare gifts and graces, mighty in the Scriptures, and full of love and power. For more than two weeks Meyer spoke, at least twice daily, to eager congregations. There are those who retain a vivid recollection of his remarkable meetings after the passing of thirty-eight years. "It was a season", says one of them, "during which, without any manner or shadow of doubt, God did, indeed, tabernacle Himself with men.
Great things were expected from his ministry, and the people have not been disappointed [this writer goes on to say]. His words have been singularly adapted to instruct and inspire, to comfort and to help. Those who had known him as a speaker at Mildmay Hall, in London, or at Keswick amid the Cumberland Hills, had regarded him, possibly, as having a mission for Christians only---as bearing a message dealing specifically with the deepening of the spiritual life---were more than mildly surprised at Northfield. For Mr. Meyer proved himself not only a speaker of singular power on subjects such as those just referred to, but as the proclaimer of a vibrant Gospel message to the unconverted. His addresses held hundreds spellbound; and at the close of the last meeting, which Mr. Moody left entirely in his hands, a testimony to the power of his words was afforded which none who were present ever desired to forget.
Another witness, hearing Meyer for the first time at this Summer Conference of 1881, writes: As a preacher, Mr. Meyer ranks very high in the best qualities of power and effectiveness. He is a man "mighty in the Scriptures", saturated with Bible facts and truths, and possessed with a yearning desire to help others. His keen discernment of the delicate lines and shades of truth, and his wonderful mastery of the spiritual suggestions of the Bible narratives, coupled with his profound knowledge of human nature, enable him to adapt and apply the word of God to the people with rare power and effect. His style is free, unconstrained, and direct, and is marked by great simplicity, united with a certain effective chasteness of diction and action, and with yearning earnestness, suggesting the possession of much reserve power; and all penetrated with a spiritual unction which may be felt but cannot be described. Of all the great teachers and preachers whom Mr. Moody has brought from afar to his annual Conferences at Northfield, no one has more thoroughly won all hearts than F. B. Meyer.
How successful this first visit of Mr. Meyer to Northfield really was is testified to by the fact of Moody’s inviting him to give post-conference addresses, a usage which he but seldom followed.
One of Mr. Moody’s oft-quoted sayings is: "When I find a good thing I’m after it." So, when he finds a good man, he keeps hold of him. Hence, he prevailed on Mr. Meyer to remain in Northfield and give extra Bible Readings for a week after the Convention closed, and afterwards to visit Chicago for a few days and give the members of his beloved Bible Institute, and all others who desired, the privilege of seeing and hearing this gifted man. "May his work in Chicago", writes Mr. Moody, "be as extraordinary, in power and blessing, as it has been at Northfield." Not least among Meyer’s trophies of Northfield---in some aspects, perhaps, the most notable of them all--- is the testimony which the late J. Wilbur Chapman gives concerning the English preacher’s influence in his life. Writing of it, Dr. Chapman says:
One sentence which he used at Northfield changed the whole tenor of my life and ministry. "If you are not willing to give up everything for Christ," he said, "are you willing to be made willing?" I was tremendously moved. The difficulties of years seemed thrust aside. The entire thought was like a new star in the sky of my life, and acting upon Dr. Meyer’s suggestion, after having carefully studied the passages in the New Testament which relate to surrender and to consecration, I gave myself anew and unreservedly to Christ. The result has been rich and fully abiding, and I am living, to this hour, in the enjoyment of blessed privileges, and I shall never be able to adequately express my appreciation of what F. B. Meyer meant in blessing to my whole life and ministry.
Dr. Meyer continued to go to Northfield for many years. He loved going, and found the work congenial to him in every way. He has related many happy reminiscences of his visits to the New England center, and given a number of fine word-pictures of the charm and beauty of this noted gathering-place of Christian workers. He has described the picturesque village, with its one long road, shaded on either side by a line of noble elms, "and speaks of the view, always beautiful, stretching up the valley to the north-west with the river gleaming below to the undulating hills on either side, while far away in the distance is a range of mountains, the highest in New England".
He has told, too, of his valued friendship with Moody; of the long, earnest conversations had with him, sitting on the veranda of the evangelist’s home; of drives with him around Northfield, besides the pleasure of being associated with him in these great summer conventions. And everywhere and always there was the same perfect sincerity and transparency. "He was a good man for whom one might dare to die." The death of Dwight L. Moody, December 22 1899, occasioned a throb of world-wide sorrow. Tributes were paid him in many lands, and hundreds of messages poured in upon his relatives. When his Biography came to be compiled, two only, as being representative of the rest, were included, one by George Campbell Morgan, the other by F. B. Meyer:
Moody always reminded me of a mountain, whose abrupt bold front, scarred and furrowed with storm, forbids the tourist [wrote Dr. Meyer]. Yet soft valleys nestle in its mighty embrace, and verdant pastures are watered by the waters that furrow the summit. He was pre-eminently a strong man. His chosen friends were men. He was happiest when giving his famous address on "Sowing and Reaping" to an audience of men only. Strong natures were strongly influenced by him. If a number of his friends were together, their conversation would inevitably turn on Moody; and if he entered any group, he would at once become its center, to whom all thoughts and words would turn. All who knew him intimately gave reverence as an uncrowned king, though his crown, like that of the Huns, was of iron. And then there was the inflexible purpose of the man in all things touching the kingdom of his Lord. Meyer rightfully declares that nothing short of an indomitable resolution and will-power could have conducted the uncultured, uneducated lad from the old shanty in Chicago to the Opera House in London, where Royalty waited on his words---rugged, terse, full of mother-wit, direct and sharp as a two-edged sword: For as the man was, so he spoke. Alone, except for the help of God; unlearned, except for what he gained from his incessant study of Scripture and ceaseless observation of character; unassisted by those adventitious circumstances of prepossessing appearance, musical speech, and college education, on which others have climbed to prominence and power, he made his way forward to the front rank of his time, and became one of the strongest religious factors of the world.
Another phase of Moody’s character to which Meyer pays tribute is his thorough naturalness. Perhaps it was this that carried him so triumphantly through his career. That a matter had always been dealt with in a certain way was no reason why Moody should follow the beaten track. On the contrary, it was a reason for striking out in some novel and unconventional method. He was perfectly unmoved by the quotation of established precedent, utterly indifferent to the question as to whether the course he proposed would bring praise or blame. When he had mastered all the difficulties of a problem [Dr. Meyer goes on], he would set himself to its solution by the exercise of his own sanctified tact and common sense. There was no limit to his inventiveness, to his rapid appreciation of the difficulties of a situation, or to his naive solutions. I have often compared his method of handling a perplexity with his driving, for he always went straight before him, over hedges and mounds, up hillsides, through streams, down dikes, over ploughed fields. The last day I was with him at Northfield he drove me from the Conference Hall over ground so irregular and uneven that every moment I expected we should be overturned. But we came out all right at the gate we wanted, and it was certainly the shortest cut. So it was always with him. If he could not untie knots, he would cut them. At the same time he was absolutely simple and humble. In all the numberless hours I have spent with him he never once manifested the least sign of affectation or drew attention to himself, never alluded to the vast numbers that had attended his meetings, the distinguished persons who had confided their secrets to him, or the enterprises which had originated in his suggestion Or been cradled under his care. It seemed as though he had never heard of himself, and knew less of his doings, than the most ordinary reader of the daily Press. Not infrequently I said to myself, when in his company, Is this the man who can gather, and hold, ten thousand people, by the month, in any of the great cities of the world? Of Moody’s apparent abruptness, Dr. Meyer declared it to be assumed as a protection for a tender and sensitive spirit, something after the manner in which oysters form for themselves strong shells against the fret of the waves and the rocks. He had seen many carried away by the adulation of admirers and weakened by the soft caress of the world; he knew that the personal element is apt to intrude between the speaker and the interests of those whom he would fain save for Christ’s sake; he was absolutely determined that people should not rest on him, but on the Word of God, to which he was ever pointing them, and he therefore encased himself in the hard shell of an apparently rugged and uncouth manner. It was only when the crowds had gone, and he was able to reveal himself without risk of being misunderstood, that he cast away his reserve and revealed his true and tender self.
After Moody’s death, Dr. Meyer, together with Dr. Campbell Morgan, engaged in what was known as the Northfield Extension work. The gap left by the death of the great founder was practically unbridgeable, but these two men sought to discharge something of the debt which Britain owed to Moody. They addressed important meetings in various parts of the Union, and gave freely of themselves to still further enlarge and the more effectively establish the work which Moody had begun. Dr. Meyer’s itinerary, during the early part of 1901, included meetings held in Richmond, Va.; Atlanta, Ga.; Birmingham, Ala.; Chattanooga, Tenn.; Louisville, Ky.; Cincinnati 0h.; Indianapolis, Ind.; Omaha, Neb., and Allegheny, Pa.
Writing in the Watchman-Examiner, the Rev. J. Havergal Sheppard recalls some charming recollections of the early visits of Dr. Meyer to Northfield, among which are the following:
Just after my ordination at Pawling, New York [he says], in 1902, he invited me to spend a day with him at Northfield, Massachusetts, he being a member of the council of Dr. Barnardo’s Homes, and I being the first of that group of "old Barnardo boys" who have entered the Baptist ministry. It was during this day that he revealed to me the charm and the challenge of the "Risen Life" as recorded in Col 3:1-4, penning the precious passage on the back of a photograph of himself, which he presented to me, and which now holds an honored place in my study. Among the other secret and sacred experiences that he related that day was this: "When I came to Northfield at first I delivered the popular addresses, and the people were saying, ’Have you heard Meyer?’" "Now", he added, "I am delivering the devotional addresses, and Morgan is delivering the more popular messages, and people are asking, ’Have you heard Morgan?’ The self-life has been tempting me to jealousy, but I have crucified it by asking all my friends to hear Morgan, for he is really wonderful." "This", he said, "is the only way to become a real overcomer."
Mr. Sheppard tells of another happy day he spent with Dr. and Mrs. Meyer during the meeting of the Baptist World Alliance, in London, in 1905. It was Saturday and Founders’ Day of Dr. Barnardo’s Homes, and at the Girls’ Village Horne, Barkingside, Essex, Dr. Meyer was one of the speakers. At that time he gave Mr. Sheppard a complimentary set of his Bible Characters, with this comment: "These are the tiding over of rimes of a thirty-years’ ministry. When I return from a series of meetings or conferences and I find that I am mentally ’fagged’ I pick out a Bible character and discuss it with my people. You would be surprised at how much they enjoy the experience. I am convinced more and more that our people like expository preaching."
I had the joy of hearing him again last summer in Philadelphia [Mr. Sheppard says]. Although he was too weak to stand, and had to sit on a stool in the pulpit, his message was as marvelous and his face as charmingly Christ-like as in his younger years. He talked to me of my old benefactor, saying: "Dear Barnardo, what a dear chap he was, what a splendid Irishman; it will not be long now until we meet again." I believe, very sincerely, that many among us are better men and ministers because we knew Dr. Meyer through his saintly life, or through the spiritual product of his pen. He possessed that rare quality of pious personality that impressed you with the mystic more than the minister, the saint than the scholar, the priest than the prophet. He knew how to be great without being grandiloquent, eminent without being egotistic, Christ-like without being conceited. His deliverances were devotional rather than didactic. In spite of this his hearers had their faith founded and fixed on the great doctrines of the Christian life. A short while ago, I had a brief talk with the honored and well-beloved Dr. John McDowell, Secretary of the Board of National Missions, of the Presbyterian Church, in the United States of America.
I distinctly remember his first coming to Northfield [said Dr. McDowell]. Mr. Moody regarded his visit, always, as one of the most important events ever associated with the Summer Conference. Meyer held the people in the hollow of his hand, as he spoke to them of the deeper experiences of the spirit, and led them, as it were, on to the tablelands of the kingdom, where the atmosphere is rarer, and the vision of the Highest is made clearer to the eyes of the soul.
I can tell you, too [Dr. McDowell went on], of a personal incident of those early days, which, while of minor importance, if viewed in relation to the larger things Meyer came to Northfield to do, serves to reflect the fine spirit of the man, and forms, for me, a very precious memory. From early days I have been fond of tennis, and in spite of my physical handicap [as nearly everybody in the religious life of America is aware, Dr. McDowell lost an arm in early life] played a fairly decent game. Dr. Meyer came across to the courts one day, just as I was busy keeping an athletic young opponent at bay, in a rather strenuous tournament match. He watched the game for awhile, and then, being impressed, I suppose, with the physical odds against me, sought an opportunity to say a word. "Young man," he said quietly, "I can’t play for you, but I can pray for you, and shall. So keep your end up, my dear fellow, keep your end up!" You see, Meyer the mystic, was, also, Meyer the man.
Dr. Meyer’s association with Northfield was never broken. He continued to minister there from time to time, and of late years his tie with the New England institution was made the stronger by his contributing to Record of Christian Work---the Northfield magazine---a highly valued feature, "Bible Notes for Daily Devotions". This material is still being published during the current year; and in it---as always---one may catch the voice of the fervent messenger, urging men and women to understand the signs of the times, to see heavenly obligation in every earthly opportunity, to do the task which plainly lies next to their hand to serve their own generation in submission to the will of God, as being the highest wisdom, the truest piety, the noblest service.
