Utterances During The Last Sermon
UTTERANCES DURING THE LAST SERMON
Some of the utterances of that last day are peculiarly worthy of preservation. Among them were such statements as these: "I've worn God's yoke for over forty years, and I've always found it easy. "There's nothing sweeter than to obey God's will. He is not a severe task-master." "You may trust God. I can believe in God rather than in D. L. Moody. My heart has deceived me a thousand times, but God has never deceived me once. "If you have a good impulse act on it. Don't be afraid. I say that most of the good done in the world is done by men who act on impulses. I am sixty-two, and I have acted on impulses all my life. I never made a mistake by acting on an impulse I felt to be good." "The natural growth of the Christian is toward more kindness and a more beautiful nature. Have you ever noticed how many old people seem cross and crabbed these days? That is because they have not been good Christians." "I am not old. I'm only an infant compared with the ages that will roll over me when I am gone."' "Those who live in Christ will live forever. The glory is not past, but to come.
Friday morning, toward noon, Mr. Moody went out driving. He came back thoroughly exhausted. Not until then did he relinquish the hope of preaching that day. He sent for one of the ministers of the committee, Rev. Dr. Matt. S. Hughes, of the Independence Avenue Methodist Episcopal Church, to preach that afternoon, saying, as he made his request, with a flash of his old spirit,
"You Methodists are always prepared to preach." Mr. Moody told those who were near him that he had never felt so feeble before. For the first time in forty years he was obliged to abandon his services. He had not been able to lie in bed for three nights, but had taken all his rest in his chair, sleeping only a few minutes at a time. It was decided, upon consultation with his physician, Dr. Schauffler, that he should go home at once.
Mr. Moody was sitting in his armchair. He was breathing heavily, and his face seemed puffy and bloated. He said his limbs were swelling, and he had a feeling of oppression about his heart. I'm afraid I shall have to give up the meetings," he said. "It's too bad." He was silent. "It's the first time in forty years of preaching that I have had to give up my meetings." He did not say anything for a while. Then he spoke in a low voice. "It is more painful to me to give up those audiences than it is to suffer from my ailments." How regretfully he relinquished his labors! But he could at least lay down his life with the knowledge that his steps had never lagged.