THEY CALLED HIM MISTER MOODY

This sympathetic biography of Dwight Moody jos along with an easy compe writter with a benign indulgence towards all, it cannot possibly offend, but neither can it inspire. It begins rather better than it ends. Perhaps it is the brazen determination of the teenage, inarticulate Moody, chasing ragamuffins through the Chicago slums to bring them to his Sunday school, that perks up the beginning of the story. Later on, when Moody has become the world-travelling evangelist, it is unfortunate the author chose to organize this (largest) part of his book like an itinerary. Curtis writes is a churchly, archaic tongue in which a man does not marry but ""takes a wife"", does not need help but ""succor"", does not deny but ""gaays"", does not want to pray but ""desires prayer"" A more serious failing is that Mr. Curtis scarcely asks the hard questions about Moody or inadequate was his philosophy, or how much good he really did as the evangelist who came for a few weeks or months and set off a flurry of conversions.