In this journey, he was cordially received everywhere by the churches, and very successful in raising money. At no former period of his life was his popularity so great as now. Wherever he preached, the place was thronged at an early hour; and frequently multitudes remained without, unable to obtain admittance.
MONMOUTHSHIRE ASSOCIATION
During this tour, he attended the Monmouthshire Association, and preached his last associational sermon. In his introduction, he described a man whom he had seen in Caernarvon, throwing a few beans to a herd of swine that followed him, and thus enticing them to the door of the slaughter-house, where they were to be slain; and said that, in a similar manner, with one temptation after another, Satan allures deluded sinners to the very gates of hell, where they are to be tormented for ever and ever. He spoke of the gospel on the day of Pentecost, as a great electrical machine; Christ turning the handle; Peter placing the chain in contact with the people: and the Holy Ghost descending like a stream of ethereal fire, and melting the hearts of three thousand at once!
Perhaps no sermon that Mr. Evans ever preached evinced more vigor of intellect, more power and splendor of genius, than this; and seldom, if ever, had he a more perfect command over the feelings of an audience. But the effort was too much for him, and he was afterward confined to his room by illness for a week.
LAST SERMON, SICKNESS, AND DEATH
Following this indefatigable man of God, we find him, on Sunday, the fifteenth of July, notwithstanding his late illness, at Swansea, preaching like a seraph, on the Prodigal Son in the morning, and in the evening on the words of St. Paul – “I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ,” &c.
The next evening he preached in the church at Mount Pleasant. He said he had taken his pulpit model from the day of Pentecost. He described the event of that memorable day, as a great naval battle between Emanuel and the Prince of Darkness. “The captain of our salvation” sent out twelve little boats to engage the whole fleet of hell. For a time all was enveloped in fire and smoke, and the issue of the day seemed doubtful; but when the conflict ceased, and the cloud cleared away, it was ascertained that the twelve little boats had captured three thousand of Satan’s ships of war.
When the preacher sat down, he said, “This is my last sermon.” And so it was. That night he was taken violently ill. The next day he lay in a partial stupor, taking but little notice of his friends. The third day he seemed somewhat better. On the morning of the fourth day, Thursday, he arose and walked in the garden. Toward evening he sunk again, and grew worse during the night. At two of the clock on Friday morning, he said to his friends: – “I am about to leave you. I have labored in the sanctuary fifty-three years; and this is my comfort and confidence, that I have never labored without blood in the basin” – meaning, evidently, that he had not failed to preach “Jesus Christ, and him crucified.” After a few more remarks of a similar character, he repeated a Welsh stanza, expressive of his firm trust in the Redeemer; and then, as if he had done with earth, and desired to depart, exclaimed in English – “Good-bye! drive on!” He now turned over, and seemed to sleep. His friends tried to rouse him. It was too late. The angelic postillion had obeyed the order. The chariot had passed over the everlasting hills.
Thus died Christmas Evans, at the house of his friend, Rev. Daniel Davies, in Swansea, July 19th, 1838, in the 73d year of his age, and the 54th of his ministry. His life was blameless, and his end was peace. “This honor have all his saints!”
FUNEREAL SORROW
His funeral took place four days after his death. Never before was there such a funeral in Swansea, never such a concourse of mourners. The people came in crowds, and wept their way to the grave as if they had been following the bier of their father. The melancholy tidings of his departure spread through the principality, and the fountains of sorrow were everywhere unsealed. In Anglesea, especially, the grief was deep and universal. There he had spent more than half of his ministerial life, and hundreds owned him as their father in Christ. The Baptist pulpits were all clothed in mourning, and funeral sermons were preached throughout the principality.
PORTRAITURE
PERSONAL APPEARANCE
Mr. Evans was a good-looking man, nearly six feet high, and well proportioned. His intellectual faculties, phrenologically speaking, were amply developed. He had lost one of his eyes in his youth, but the other was large and bright enough for two. It had a peculiarly penetrating glance; and when kindling under the inspiration of the pulpit, added wonderfully to the effect of his eloquence. All his features were expressive of intelligence and love; his whole bearing, dignified and majestic; and the blending of great and amiable qualities in his character commanded at once the reverence and the confidence of all who knew him.
MORAL AND CHRISTIAN CHARACTER
From the time of his conversion to the day of his death, Mr. Evans exhibited a consistent and exemplary piety. Though he several times fell into darkness and doubt, and lost a portion of his burning zeal, he never forfeited his place in the church, or tarnished his Christian name. The uprightness of his deportment was acknowledged by all his neighbors; and those of other denominations, differing widely from him in creed and custom, always accorded to him the reputation of “a holy man of God.” But his piety was never ostentatious or austere. Modesty and humility were among his most prominent qualities, and a high degree of Christian cheerfulness characterized his conversation. However low, at times, his religious enjoyment, he was always careful to walk with becoming circumspection before the world, that the cause of Christ might suffer no reproach through his imprudence.
SOCIAL DISPOSITION
Mr. Evans was naturally of a quick and irritable temper; but Divine Grace subdued his constitutional impetuosity, made him “gentle toward all men,” and clothed him with “the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit.” He was eminently social in his feelings, and took great delight in the company of his friends. It cost him no effort to render himself agreeable in any society. In the cottage and the mansion he was equally at home, and the unlettered peasant and the erudite philosopher were equally interested by his conversation. He never had any children of his own, but was always remarkably fond of the children of others. After discoursing for an hour on the sublimest topics of the Christian faith, in a style befitting their importance, to the great delight, and often to the amazement of all who heard him, he would descend to the relation of some pretty story, in a manner so affectionate and familiar as at once to win the hearts and enlighten the minds of half a dozen bright-eyed little creatures, grouped around him like Peter Parley’s scholars in the picture.
READING AND STUDY
Mr. Evans was a great lover of books. He seized and devoured with avidity every interesting volume that fell in his way. He never resorted to reading, however, as a mere pastime. He sought for mental and spiritual treasures to enrich his sermons. For this he beat the fields and dug the wells of knowledge. Every thing was made subservient to his holy calling. Every thing was pressed into his preparations for the pulpit. His authors were selected with prudent discrimination, and perused with earnest attention, indicating an intense desire to be thoroughly furnished for his work. He studied what he read. He was extensively acquainted with the best theological writers of the age, and quoted them frequently in his discourses. But there is one volume to which he referred more frequently than to all the rest, “the book of books divine.” He was emphatically “a man mighty in the Scriptures.” From the word of God he derived the principal matter of his preaching. Even that lofty imagery which constituted the peculiar charm