At the time when Charles Bradlaugh, the champion of atheism was at his zenith, a special meeting for atheists was held by Moody and Sankey in East London. Following is an account of it by the late George Soltau.
It was among the most remarkable scenes I have ever witnessed. The hall was pitched in the center of the dense working population of that quarter, where men by the hundreds of thousands work and live. A Monday evening had been reserved for an address to Atheists, Skeptics, and Free Thinkers of all shades.
Charles Bradlaugh, the champion of atheism, heard of the meeting and ordered all the clubs he had formed to go and take possession of the hall. At the appointed hour five thousand men marched in from all directions and occupied every seat.
After the preliminary singing, Mr. Moody asked the men to choose their favorite hymns. This suggestion raised many a laugh, for atheists have no songs or hymns. Mr. Moody spoke from Deuteronomy 32:31:
"Their rock is not our Rock, even our enemies themselves being judges."
He poured in a broadside of telling, touching incidents from his own experience of the deathbeds of Christians and atheists, and let the men be the judges as to who had the best foundation on which to rest faith and hope.
Reluctant tears were rung from many eyes. The great mass of men, with the darkest, most determined defiance of God stamped upon their faces, bore this running fire attacking them in their most vulnerable points, namely, their hearts and their homes.
But when the sermon 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,' and while we do so, will the ushers open all the doors, so that any man who wants to leave can do so. After that we will have the usual inquiry meeting for those who desire to be led to the Savior."
I thought, All will stampede and we shall have an empty hall.
But instead, the great mass of five thousand men rose, sang, and sat down again, not one man vacating his seat.
What next? Mr. Moody then said:
"I will explain four words— receive, believe, trust, take HIM. A broad grin pervaded all that sea of faces. After a few words upon "Receive," he made the appeal: "Who will receive Him? Just say, 'I will.' "
From the men standing around the edge of the hall came some fifty responses, but not one from the mass seated before him. One man growled: "I can't," to which 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 edge of the crowd, till one big fellow, a leading club member, shouted: "I won't!"
Dear Mr. Moody, overcome with tenderness and compassion, burst into broken, tearful words, half sobs: "It is 'I will,' or 'I won't' for every man here tonight."
Then he suddenly turned the whole attention of the meeting to the story of the Prodigal Son, saying: "The battle is on the will, and only there." When the young man said, 'I will arise,' the battle was won, for he had yielded his will; and 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 rise and say, 'I won't.' "
There was perfect silence and stillness; all held their breath, till as no man rose, Moody burst out: "Thank God, no man says, 'I won't!" Now who will say, 'I will'?"
In an instant the Holy Spirit seemed to have broken loose upon that great crowd of enemies of Jesus Christ, and five hundred men sprang to their feet, their faces raining down with tears, shouting: "I will!" The whole atmosphere was changed and the battle was won.
Quickly the meeting was closed that personal work might begin. And from that night till the end of the week nearly two thousand men were swung out of the ranks of the foe into the army of the Lord by the surrender of their will.
They heard His, "Rise and walk," and they followed Him. The permanency of that work was well attested to for years afterward, and the atheists clubs never recovered their footing. God swept them away in His mercy and might by the gospel.
End