Sermons of Christmas Evans. Evans Christmas
countries and other denominations, but also in those of his native principality and the Baptist church. His immediate contemporaries and neighbors were often the subjects of his highest encomiums. His heart was as large as the world!
INGENUOUSNESS AND HONESTY
A late American writer has said of insincerity, that it is the most detestable of all vices for which men go unhung. Yet it must be admitted, there is no vice more prevalent, even among the professed followers of Him, “who knew no iniquity, neither was guile found in his lips.” The sentiment, that it is right to deceive for the good of the church, is not peculiar to the Papists. Perhaps the enlightened Protestant can scarcely be found, who would verbally avow such a doctrine; but it is often practically avowed, even by the messenger of truth; and ecclesiastical elevation is sometimes attributable more to dishonesty than to real virtue or talent.
Christmas Evans’ popularity, however, could boast a better origin. It was the spontaneous fruit of his graces and his gifts. He was never indebted to unfair and underhanded measures for his success. His conduct was always open and ingenuous. Of deceit and secret design he was incapable. He never attempted to build up his own church by proselyting the converts of other churches. In one instance, when a young man, who had been educated for the ministry in the established church of England, came to him, desiring baptism by immersion, instead of eagerly seizing upon so valuable an acquisition to the Baptists, as some doubtless would have done, he endeavored to dissuade him from his purpose, and yielded at length only to his fervent importunity.
He deemed the slightest departure from truth, in any instance, a crime, and a deep disgrace to the Christian character. He was innocent and unsuspecting as a child. His frank and confiding disposition was unquestionably the occasion of most of his heavy trials. Jealous and malicious men took advantage of his Christian simplicity, and made one of his sweetest virtues a poison to his peace.
He once employed a person to sell a horse for him at a fair. After some time, he went out to see if he was likely to succeed. There was a man bargaining for the animal, and the contract was nearly completed.
“Is this your horse, Mr. Evans?” said the purchaser.
“Certainly it is,” he replied.
“What is his age, sir?”
“Twenty-three years.”
“But this man tells me he is only fifteen.”
“He is certainly twenty-three, for he has been with me these twenty years, and he was three years old when I bought him.”
“Is he safe-footed?”
“Very far from that, I assure you, or I would not part with him, and he has never been put in harness since I have had him either.”
“Please to go into the house, Mr. Evans,” whispered the man whom he had employed to make the sale, “for I shall never dispose of the horse while you are present.”
The frank manner, however, in which Mr. Evans told him all the truth, induced the dealer to make the purchase at a very handsome price; while it procured for Mr. Evans a good name, which is better than gold.
SARCASTIC REBUKES
In conversation he was always careful of the feelings of others. He would never employ a sarcastic remark, but for the purpose of merited rebuke. “It is better,” said he, “to keep sarcasms pocketed, if we cannot use them without wounding the feelings of a friend.” But he was capable, when occasion required, of wielding this weapon with terrible effect. Take the following instances: —
Just before his removal from Cardiff to Caernarvon, he was conversing on the contemplated change in a circle of several ministers. His labors had been solicited in two or three other places, and the company were canvassing the comparative claims of the different churches. A feeble-minded young man present, who “thought more highly of himself than he ought to think,” said: – “It is my opinion, Father Evans, that you had better go to Caernarvon. It is not likely your talents would suit either of the other places, but I think you might do very well at Caernarvon.” Mr. Evans opened his large eye upon the speaker, and replied; – “And hast thou peeped? When didst thou creep from the shell?”
Once, two ministers, of different sects, were disputing in his presence on what he deemed an unimportant matter of ecclesiastical discipline. One of them asked: – “What say you, Mr. Evans?” Mr. Evans replied: – “I saw two boys quarrelling over two snails. One of them insisted that his snail was the better, because it had horns; while the other as strenuously argued for the superiority of his, because it had none. The boys were very angry and vociferous, but the two snails were friends.” The disputants burst into a hearty laugh, and the debate ended.
A shallow atheist was ridiculing the idea of a God, because, as he alleged, he had no sensible evidence of his being. Mr. Evans answered: – “My friend, the mole in the meadow has never seen a king; shall he therefore say there is no king? O thou atheistic mole! thou hast never travelled out of thy own narrow field; and if thou hadst, thou hast no eyes to see with; and wilt thou dare to say there is no God? Dost thou think all others as blind as thyself? All that thou canst say is, that thou dost not see God, and dost not wish to see him. How dost thou know that the being of a God is not so manifest on the other side of the river of death, that no doubt is entertained concerning it throughout all the expanse of eternity? Can the earth-mole say there is no grand Lama in Thibet? Poor worm! thou must travel through the gates of death, and fathom the bottomless pit, and measure the land of destruction, and scale the very heaven of heavens, and surround all the borders of time and eternity, before thou canst assure thyself there is no God!”
PULPIT TALENTS AND LABORS
As a preacher, Mr. Evans was very peculiar. No translation of his sermons can give the English reader an adequate idea of their force and beauty in the original.
He was exceedingly methodical and perspicuous. His arrangement was never loose and vague; his thoughts never confused and mingled together. He was a “wise master-builder,” who took care to lay a broad and firm foundation, and then “built thereon gold, silver, and precious stones.” The several parts of his discourse bore a mutual relation of dependence, and each would have been incomplete without the others. His order was so natural, that it was very easy to follow him; and his manner so impressive, that it was nearly impossible to forget him.
He never spoke on a subject that he did not understand. Before entering the pulpit, he invariably measured his text in all its extent, and considered it in every possible aspect. “He had a wonderful method,” says one, “of making the most abstruse passages appear easy and plain. He interpreted scripture by scripture, and exhibited the component parts of his subject in a clear and beautiful manner, and illustrated them by the most appropriate and striking metaphors; and forging link by link, united them together, and bound the whole up in one glorious chain. His talents were such as to enable him to cast a ray of light upon the darkest points of the Christian system.”
Mr. Evans’ descriptive powers were altogether unique. He abounded in allegories of the most forcible character. In this respect, he was equaled by none of his contemporaries; transcended by none of his predecessors. Passages of this kind will be so frequently met with in the following selection from his sermons, that it is not necessary to point them out to the reader.
His happy art of description is attributable chiefly to a very remarkable imagination. This is one of the primary qualities of an orator. When it is lacking, no depth of learning, no graces of delivery, can compensate for its lack. True, argument is important. There is no eloquence without argument. Argument must constitute the bone and the sinew of every good discourse. But the bone and the sinew constitute only the skeleton. Imagination must supply the muscle and the nerve. Imagination must clothe it with beauty, and inspire it with life; give expression to the features, animation to the eye, and to the tongue motion and melody articulate. Argument is the John Baptist of eloquence, after whom there cometh a mightier, baptizing with fire!
“Logic,” says Carlyle, “is good, but not the best. The irrefragable doctor, with his chain of inductions, his corollaries, dilemmas, and other cunning logical diagrams and apparatus, will cast you a beautiful