The mighty movement of the Spirit of God, which aroused a dead Christendom about the middle of the eighteenth century, continued, as we have seen, into the early years of the nineteenth. Decline was beginning to manifest itself and the enemy’s opposition was beginning to take effect when a further, powerful, divine impulse was felt especially in America and the British Isles.
It differed in certain respects from the previous movement. In the first place, it was not characterized by such outstanding figures as Whitefield and Wesley, arousing the almost heathen masses. It was like a breath of divine power bringing conviction of sin to tens of thousands of nominal churchgoers as well as to out-and-out sinners. Many were stirred by a deep conviction of sin and sought the evangelist instead of the evangelist having to seek them. Prayer on the part of Christians for the salvation of sinners was a prominent feature, and in answer to these prayers thousands flocked to the churches.
It began in America with lunch-hour prayer meetings in New York. The preachings followed. There was no concerted plan of action — no campaign — at any rate, not in the beginning. The history of the awakening in the British Isles is a wonderful example of answered prayer and a great incentive to intercession, on the part of believers, for all men. In the autumn of 1857, there was a trade recession in America. Trouble often turns men to God when prosperity makes them forgetful. Jeremiah Lanphier, a City Missionary connected with the North Dutch Church in New York, opened a room in Fulton Street and invited businessmen to gather for prayer during the lunch hour. Very few attended at first, but the numbers gradually increased. The room, before long, was filled to overflowing. A second and third room were opened and all were filled, and the building resounded with prayer and praise. Many other, similar gatherings were begun in other parts of the city. The whole city was moved. The exercise began with prayer; preaching followed. The churches and chapels were filled and preachings took place in other buildings, such as Burton’s Theater.
The movement soon spread all over America; every town and village was affected. There was no human effort; it was not planned or concerted by man. An unseen influence seemed to be at work throughout the land. It was not started by evangelists, nor was the movement confined to any sect. It seemed that men’s hearts and minds were prepared to receive the gospel. It was calculated that a million people professed conversion at that time, but, figures apart, there is no reason to doubt that abiding results followed.
In November 1856, a young Irishman named McQuilkin was converted as the result of a conversation with Mrs. Colville, an evangelical Englishwoman who was spending some months in Ballymena, his native town. After his conversion, McQuilkin was deeply impressed with the way God had answered George Mueller’s prayers. He and three friends had begun to meet for prayer and mutual edification in a schoolroom at Kells, a nearby village. Then the news arrived of the gospel awakening in America. “Why,” said McQuilkin to his companions, “may we not have such a blessed work here.” They began to pray. A few individual cases of conversion were the first fruits of encouragement. Before long, the evangelical Churches in Ulster were stirred by the reports of blessing in the United States. The family of one of the four living in Ahoghill, not far away, was converted. Others were added. Greatly encouraged, McQuilkin and two of his friends proceeded to Ahoghill and held meetings in one of the Presbyterian churches. Prayer meetings multiplied. Interest was quickened. On March 14 a meeting was held in another Presbyterian church in the village. So many tried to attend that a collapse of the galleries was feared, and the congregation dismissed. Three thousand stood in the rain and listened to a layman preaching. It is worthwhile to emphasize the circumstances. We have not here a crowd drawn to hear a popular speaker. These three thousand people had been turned out of the church; outside, a chilly rain was falling. They had every reason to seek the shelter of their homes; instead, they waited and listened to an unknown layman who stood up and delivered, on the spur of the moment, a gospel appeal. Hundreds fell upon their knees in the muddy streets, some overcome by an intense conviction of sin.
The minister of the church in question recorded that seven hundred adherents of his church were “awakened” at this time. Before, they were Christians only in name. The local ministers generally were convinced it was a work of God. “Drunkards, blasphemers, harlots and thieves, on the one hand, and the respectable, the moral, the educated and the intelligent, on the other, were instantaneously converted to a new way of life.” A wicked youth who came to mock was struck down and lay as dead. Then he awoke to cry, “Lord, save me; I perish!” From then on, all the three Presbyterian churches in the village were crowded. So began a wave of blessing that swept over Ireland with irresistible power.
The town of Ballymena, three miles from Ahoghill, was soon stirred from end to end. Five thousand people stood in a quarry and heard a converted drunkard testify to the way in which Jesus had delivered him from the chains of sin. Conviction with some was so intense as to produce nervous prostration. Such cases disturbed many and were used by enemies to discredit what was happening. After allowing for human excitement or even, in some cases, the work of the enemy, it is not surprising if souls suddenly awakened to the peril of a lost eternity were so overcome that nature temporarily gave way. But in such cases, when the sense of forgiveness entered their souls, they were filled with joy, glorifying God, and began to desire the blessing of others. From Roman Catholics and Unitarians there was strong opposition. Brownlow North preached at this time to eleven thousand in the open air. Village after village in the entire county of Antrim was affected. The miners in the salt mines held daily prayer meetings.
In May the revival reached Belfast. The churches were crowded. A mass meeting for prayer held in the Botanic Gardens in the summer was attended by fifteen thousand. In July, Grattan Guinness preached to fifteen thousand in the open air. In August, the churches of all the denominations were filled to overflow. Another meeting in the middle of August in the Botanic Gardens was attended by twenty thousand people. The October races that year were attended by only five hundred people instead of the usual ten thousand.
It is impossible here to follow the detailed history of this remarkable movement as it spread all over the land. The greatest blessing was in the Protestant parts of the country, but southern Ireland was not left without a testimony. C. H. Spurgeon preached in Dublin on five occasions to audiences of three thousand. It was in Dublin that Sir Robert Anderson, then a young man and later Assistant Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police, was converted. He became a well-known evangelist. In Kerry County, several landed proprietors were converted through the labors of C. H. Mackintosh (author of Notes on the Pentateuch). It was estimated that as the immediate fruit of the revival 100,000 persons were saved. The full results are only known to God.
The blessing was not confined to Ireland. While all this was going on, the Spirit of God was also working in Scotland. Here, too, the news of blessing in the States stirred up Christians to pray for similar blessing for their own country. In the fall of 1858, prayer meetings were being held in Aberdeen. In August of the following year, a meeting was held on Glasgow Green at which twenty thousand people were present. Numerous prayer meetings were held in this city also. The Glasgow Commonwealth reported:
“The wonderful change that is perceptible on the very surface of society is now frequently the subject of remark. In the family party, in the bus or railway carriage, on board the steamer, in the street, on change, it is no longer a strange thing to hear people as Christians able to ‘give ... a reason of the hope that is in [them]’ (1 Peter 3:1515But sanctify the Lord God in your hearts: and be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you with meekness and fear: (1 Peter 3:15)), or ... as earnest inquirers more or less audibly demanding, ‘What must [we] do to be saved?’ (Acts 16:3030And brought them out, and said, Sirs, what must I do to be saved? (Acts 16:30)).”
For a whole year, the interest was sustained. Once again, in September 1860, twenty thousand gathered on Glasgow Green to hear the gospel. Among the preachers was a butcher named Robert Cunningham.
The blessing was not confined to Glasgow. The whole of Scotland was moved. North and south, east and west — from the border towns up to the Moray Firth — beyond to the Orkney Islands, even to the smallest islands off the coast — there is the same story to be told, the story of a deep longing for the water of life. When the wave of conversions had subsided, the results remained in the lives of thousands of persons who had passed from death unto life and remained faithful to the Lord to the end of their lives.
A similar account might be given of Wales. In his fully documented account of the revival in Wales, the author of the work already quoted says:
“The Rev. D. Charles, of Trevecca College, outlined three main characteristics of the Welsh Revival thus: firstly, an extraordinary spirit of prayer among the masses; secondly, a remarkable spirit of union among all denominations of Christians; and thirdly, a powerful missionary effort for the conversion of others. These three characteristics were displayed by the American, Irish and Scottish movements. Another remarkable affinity of movement is noticed in the fact that the Welsh Revival of 1859 was independent of great personalities.”
No live Christian could hear such news without a desire that a like blessing might be poured out on those around him. In August 1859, prayer meetings began in London. Some were held in the lunch hour, others at an earlier hour. On a bitterly cold morning in January 1860, a large hall in north London was filled at 9 a.m. with persons who had met for prayer. The number of prayer meetings became so large that they ceased to be enumerated. The evangelical Earl of Shaftesbury, anxious that the thousands who never attended a place of worship should not be deterred from hearing the gospel, arranged for a number of London theaters to be used for preaching. This move was criticized in certain quarters, but the numbers who attended these meetings have been estimated at a million each season for several years. Among those converted at one of these meetings was a young man who himself became a well-known evangelist among the Brethren, Dr. W. T. P. Wolston. These were, of course, in addition to the preachings in churches and chapels throughout London. From St. Paul’s Cathedral, a truly evangelical message sounded forth, while Spurgeon’s church was then being attended by such numbers that the decision was taken to build the Metropolitan Tabernacle.
In every town and village throughout the land, there was an ear for the gospel, and everywhere laborers were busy reaping the evangelical harvest. At this time, William Booth and his wife visited Cornwall, and his preaching resulted in hundreds of conversions. Crowds who could not get into the hall in which he was preaching were addressed by other evangelists. This was before his inauguration of the Salvation Army. At this time, he was a Methodist lay preacher, but he was excluded by the official body because he was a so-called “Revivalist.”
Handley Moule, who afterwards became Bishop of Durham, recalling the impressions of his boyhood, said that this was a wonderful epoch in the parish. There was no excitement, no powerful personalities, yet the church was thronged to overflowing night after night, as well as the schoolroom. The simplest means were blessed: Sometimes people were brought to God by the reading of a chapter of the Bible. Hundreds were converted and the results were abiding.
The results were the same throughout the land. Everywhere ardent evangelists were gathering in the harvest. In 1863, four years after the beginning of the movement, we read of Richard Weaver, a converted pugilist, addressing five thousand at the Leeds amphitheater while a local preacher addressed a thousand who were unable to gain admittance. Over twenty thousand attended four such services, many coming long distances. The work continued into 1865.
Space precludes further details. Among the outstanding evangelists whom God used at this time was Grattan Guinness, who once addressed twenty thousand people in Ulster from the top of a cab. Relating his impressions of this period many years later, he said that “ministers were occupied until midnight, or even till two or three o’clock in the morning, conversing with crowds of inquirers who were crying, ‘What shall [we] do to be saved?’ (Acts 16:3030And brought them out, and said, Sirs, what must I do to be saved? (Acts 16:30)).”
Richard Weaver, miner and boxer, was much used among the working classes. On one occasion, in answer to the challenge of an objector, he held out his cheek for a blow, which was violently given, and then, true to the Lord’s words, he presented the other cheek. His opposer forbore to strike again. He then fell upon his knees and prayed for him. Years later, he met the one who struck — then a truly converted man. The names of many others whom God used at this time might be cited, but the roll is too long for our pages.
The wave of blessing which began in the late 1850s continued to flow for many years. In 1872 a bed-ridden Christian lady, feeling her helplessness, was led to pray that God might bring blessing to her church in north London. She prayed for this earnestly night and day.
In June of that year, a young evangelist on a visit from America was invited to preach. He agreed rather reluctantly. The morning preaching lacked interest, and he felt his time lost. At 6:30 p.m. he preached again. While preaching, he had a sense that the Spirit of God was working. When he finished, he asked any who would like to become Christians to stand up and he would pray for them. To his amazement, most of the congregation rose. He had never experienced anything like it before. Not knowing what to do and thinking he might have been misunderstood, he again put the question, this time suggesting that those who wished to become Christians should go into the inquiry room. To his great astonishment, they crowded into the inquiry room. The whole congregation was moved, and he appealed to those really in earnest to meet the pastor next night. The following day he went to Dublin, but he was urgently recalled by telegram, as there were more inquirers on Monday than on Sunday. He returned and held meetings for ten days. Four hundred persons were, as a result, added to the company. God had answered the prayer of the invalid lady with a blessing far beyond the expectations of any.
But there is a further significant detail. This praying Christian had seen an account in the paper of some meeting at which an evangelist, quite unknown to her, had preached, and she asked God to send him to her church. Great was her joy when her sister informed her that a Mr. Moody from America had been the preacher that night. He was the man whom she had asked God to send.
When Moody decided to visit England on that occasion, his object was not to preach, but to get help for himself, in the understanding of the Scriptures, from some whom he deemed could help him. The opportunity to preach was not sought, as far as he was concerned, so it was not a case of a worked-up revival. God was pleased to use Moody as the instrument in an outpouring of blessing which neither he nor the pastor had ever dreamed of, and thereby to answer the supplications of a bed-ridden saint who could do nothing but pray.
There is still another significant detail. Why did he ask those who wanted to be saved to rise? In the previous year, he had preached to a large audience in Chicago and taken as his text, “What shall I do then with Jesus which is called Christ?” (Matt. 27:2222Pilate saith unto them, What shall I do then with Jesus which is called Christ? They all say unto him, Let him be crucified. (Matthew 27:22)). In closing, he begged his audience to turn the question over in their minds during the week. That night the Hall in which he preached was destroyed by fire, for the whole city was swept by an awful conflagration in which his own home disappeared and many families were made homeless. None of those he had given a week to consider did he ever see again. Thenceforward, he determined when he preached to urge his hearers to receive Christ there and then.
The ways of God with his servants are always interesting and instructive. Moody was born in 1837. His mother was left a widow while he was a child. As a lad, he went to Boston. While working in a shoe store there, his Bible-class teacher visited him in the warehouse and urged him to give his heart to the Lord there and then. This he did on the spot. He took up Sunday school work and soon gathered a large crowd of children into the school. Another teacher, who had a class of very unruly girls, was smitten with tuberculosis and had to leave the city on account of his health. Before doing so, he visited, in Moody’s company, each of the girls in her home, and as a result of his earnest pleading — his own days were numbered — every one of them was brought to Christ.
The night of the stricken teacher’s departure, Moody called together the now converted young women for a prayer meeting. The dying man sat among them, prayed with them and exhorted them. One of the girls began to pray, and then they all prayed one by one. As he left, young Moody lifted up his heart to God and said, “O God, let me die rather than lose the blessing I have received tonight!”
Moody and the girls were on the platform next day to bid adieu to their friend. As the train moved off, they saw him standing on the platform of the rear coach, pointing with his finger to heaven. All this made a deep impression on Moody. He was on the verge of a successful career and had made £1,000 in commission in the course of a single year, a sum equal to £5,000 today.
Moody’s business career was finished. He threw himself into Christian work. Without any preconceived plan, without any Society to back him, this young man of twenty-two began to visit people in their homes, particularly interesting himself in the children. He became, in fact, a self-appointed city missionary. He was soon a well-known figure. The papers were full of jokes about him. He was nicknamed brother Moody. Sometimes he preached; more often, he secured the services of others. When Civil War broke out, he worked among the wounded on the battlefields. He also served among the soldiers in the Spanish-American War.
As time went on, he was more and more used as an evangelist until the visit to England with which this account begins. From then on to the end of his life in 1899, he was undoubtedly used to the blessing of many.
His revival methods have not met with universal approval, and the lasting character of the conversions has been questioned. But his theme was “Jesus Christ, and Him crucified” (1 Cor. 2:22For I determined not to know any thing among you, save Jesus Christ, and him crucified. (1 Corinthians 2:2)), and there can be no doubt that God, as ever, blessed such preaching.
One minister in New York said twenty years afterwards that most of some 120 converts who came to his church as a result of Moody’s mission in that city in 1876 were still continuing twenty years later.
Right up to the end of the century, the evangelical tide continued to flow. Not only had thousands in Europe and America been blessed, but the glad tidings of free salvation had been sounded abroad throughout the earth, and into its darkest corners the light had penetrated. The Bible, too, had been translated into many languages. This worldwide spread of the gospel calls for a chapter to itself.