A most remarkable scene took place in East London during the visit of those well-known men of God, Dwight: L. Moody and Ira D. Sankey, in the years 1883-84. The hall was in the center of a dense working population where men by the thousands labor in workshops and factories. One Monday evening had been reserved for an address by Mr. Moody to atheists, skeptics, and freethinkers of all kinds.
At that time Charles Bradlaugh, a champion of atheism, was at his zenith. Hearing of this meeting, he ordered all the clubs he had formed to close for the evening, and all the members to go and take possession of the' hall. They did so, and five thousand men marched in and occupied all the seats.
The service commenced earlier than usual. After the preliminary singing, Mr. Moody asked the men to choose their favorite hymn. This suggestion raised many a laugh, for atheists have no song or hymn.
The meeting got well under way. Mr. Moody spoke from "Their rock is not as our Rock, even our enemies themselves being judges." Deut. 32:3131For their rock is not as our Rock, even our enemies themselves being judges. (Deuteronomy 32:31). He poured in a broadside of telling, touching incidents from his own experience and told also of the deathbeds of Christians anti of atheists he had known. He let the men be the judges as to who had the best foundation on which to rest faith and hope.
Reluctant tears were wrung from many an eye. This great mass of men with the most determined defiance of God stamped upon their countenances were eloquently attacked in their most vulnerable points—their hearts and their homes. Yet when the address was ended one felt inclined to think nothing had been accomplished. It had not appealed to their intellects or reasoning faculties, and had convinced them of nothing.
At the close Mr. Moody said: "We will rise and sing `Only Trust Him.' While we sing, will the ushers open all the doors? Any man who wants to leave can do so; and afterward we will have the usual inquiry meeting for those who desire to be led to the Savior.”
I thought: "All will stampede! We shall only have an empty hall." Instead, the great mass of five thousand men rose, sang, and sat down again. Not one had vacated his seat.
What next? Mr. Moody then said: "I will explain four words—Receive, Believe, Trust, Accept Him." A broad grin spread over all that sea of faces.
After a few words upon, "Receive," the great evangelist made the appeal: "Who will receive Christ? Just say, `I will.'”
From the men standing around the edge of the hall some fifty responded, but not one from the mass before him. At last one man growled, "I can't!”
Mr. Moody replied, "You have spoken the truth, my man. Glad you spoke. Listen, and you will be able to say `I can' before we are through.”
Then he explained the word "Believe," and made his second appeal: "Who will say 'I will believe Him'?" Again some responded from the fringe of the crowd till one big fellow, a leading club man, shouted—"I won't!”
Great-hearted Mr. Moody was overcome with tenderness and compassion. He burst into broken, tearful words, half sobs: "It is 'I will' or 'I won't' for every man in this hall tonight.”
Then he suddenly turned the whole attention of the meeting to the story of the Prodigal Son of Luke 15. He said: "The battle is with the will, and only there. When the young man said, 'I will arise,' the battle was won. He had yielded his will. On that point all hangs tonight. Men, you have your champion there in the middle of the hall, the man who said, 'I won't.' I want every man here who believes that man is right to follow him, and to rise and say, 'I won't.'”
There was perfect silence. All silently waited till, as no man rose, Mr. Moody burst out: "Thank God, no man says, 'I won't.' Now who will say, 'I will'?”
In an instant the power of the Holy Spirit's presence was upon that great crowd of enemies of Jesus Christ. Five hundred men sprang to their feet, their faces raining down with tears. "I will, I will," they shouted, till the whole atmosphere was changed and the battle was won.
Quickly the meeting was closed so that personal work might begin. Before the end of the week nearly two thousand men were swung out from the ranks of the foe into the army of the Lord by the surrender of their wills. They heard His "rise and walk," and they followed Him. The permanency of that work was attested for years afterward, and the clubs never recovered their footing. God swept them away in His mercy and might by the gospel.