The mother of Moody was kind and loving, but she was a strict disciplinarian and order was enforced with old-fashioned whippings. These were frequent in the case of Dwight, for he was the leader in all sorts of boyish mischief. He said: “Mother would send me out for a stick, and I thought I could fool her and get a dead one. But she would snap the stick and then tell me to get another. She was rarely in a hurry, and certainly never when she was whipping me. Once I told her that the whipping did not hurt at all. I never had occasion to tell her so again, for she put it on so it did hurt.” Mr. Moody in later life always seemed to approve of this method of enforcing discipline, but he never adopted the same measures in his own family. In his home grace was the ruling principle, and the sorest punishment of a child was the sense that the father’s loving heart had been grieved by waywardness or folly. Mr. Moody’s early book learning was limited. School life was not all that could be desired in those days. Discipline was severe, whippings in school were frequent, and each whipping in school required a similar treatment at home. But evidently Dwight thought the fun was worth the whippings, for his love for laugh-producing pranks never lessened. A new teacher at last came to the school
and another order of things appeared. She opened the exercise with prayer, which greatly impressed the pupils. Her announcement that she proposed to rule the school without the old-fashioned whippings increased their astonishment. Soon young Dwight broke a rule and was summoned to “remain after school.” He expected the customary punishment, but to his surprise when they were alone the teacher began to talk kindly to him and to tell him how sorry she was that he had disobeyed. This treatment hurt Dwight more than did the rattan cane. After telling him how sorry she was that he could not be trusted the teacher said: “I have made up my mind that if I cannot rule the school by love, I will give up. I will have no punishment. If you love me try to keep the rules and help me in the school.” This was too much for Dwight, and where law had failed grace won. “You will never have any more trouble with me,” he said, “and I will whack the first boy that makes you any trouble.” And “whack” he did the very next day, to the surprise of his companions and the teacher. Dwight was keen on “swapping,” and once he bought off with a broken slate pencil the affections of a rival suitor for a little companion. This “swapping” tendency followed Dwight. At home on the farm one day while the other members of the family were away from home a band of gypsies came along. Dwight challenged them to trade for the old, slow, lazy farm nag. He argued with the folks when they later came home that it would have been impossible for him to trade for a worse nag than the one they had. It later proved that he had made a good trade. Dwight was much in demand as a debater. On one occasion at the closing exercise in the district school he was on the program to recite Mark Antony’s oration over Julius Caesar. He used a small box to represent the casket, placing this upon the teacher’s desk. The
audience, which included the local ministers, school committee, teachers, parents, and friends of the children, was moved to tears as he proceeded. When finally he lifted the cover of the box to take a last look at Caesar, out jumped a tom-cat! “Scat!” shouted Dwight; and great was the uproar and laughter. On another occasion he was to give a talk on the wrong to which the Indians were subjected. He wrote out about a fifteen minutes’ speech and memorized it. When he appeared on the platform, after reciting the first few lines his memory failed him and he closed abruptly with the remark: “The Indians went to the North Pole, and got froze up as stiff as steelyards.” Mr. Moody, himself without an academic education, was a strong believer in education, and he founded institutions of learning that have been very large factors in educating young men and women for gospel work. On one occasion an over-zealous critic who was not an overactive worker took Mr. Moody to task about his defects in speech. “You oughtn’t to speak in public,” he said, “you make too many mistakes in grammar.”
“I know I make mistakes,” was the reply, “and I lack a great many things, but I’m doing the best I can with what I’ve got. But look here, friend, you’ve got grammar enough—what are you doing with it for the Master?” At another time the minister who followed him as a speaker criticized him, saying that his talk was made up of newspaper clippings, etc. When he sat down Mr. Moody stepped to the front again and said that he recognized his want of learning and his inability to make a fine address. He thanked the minister for pointing
out his shortcomings and asked him to lead in prayer that God would help him to do better. Mr. Moody, explaining his attitude on an educated ministry, said among other things: “Many young men enter Christian work far too late in life to go through the regular college course. The church ought to take these men in hand and give them the opportunity for doing that for which they are fitted. Peter, the unlettered fisherman, did work as good as Paul, the man of education. Of course, Paul did some special duties better because of his education. If a man has a desire for a university education, let him have it, but it is not necessary for everyone to know Latin, Greek, and Hebrew.” As a finishing point Mr. Moody observed that he regretted exceedingly that he had never had a college education himself, but that he did not get it and was doing the best he could without it. Mr. Moody stressed the idea of having a divine call to the ministry, regardless of education. When asked, “Would you advise a young man to go into the ministry?” he replied, “Never. If God calls a man, all right; but I have seen too many man-made ministers. If a man is called by God he will succeed; but if he is sent by man, he will fail. All are called to be disciples and witnesses, but there needs to be a special call to be an apostle.” Speaking of pulpit oratory, he said—“I like the oratory that moves men, but I have no use for the elocution where a man is showing off.” On more than one occasion Mr. Moody said, “I done,” “I seen,” “I have saw,” etc. But his overflowing spirituality—the power of the Divine working in and through him—made up for the lack of book education.