Specimen of Welsh Preaching.
At a meeting of ministers at Bristol, the Rev. Mr.—invited several of his brethren to sup with him; among them was the minister officiating at the Welsh meeting-house in that city. He was an entire stranger to all the company, and silently attentive to the general conversation of his brethren. The subject on which they were discoursing was the different strains of public preaching. When several had given their opinion and had mentioned some individuals as good preachers, and such as were models as to style of composition, &c., Mr.—turned to the Welsh stranger and solicited his opinion. He said he felt it to be a privilege to be silent when such men were discoursing, but he felt it a duty to comply with this request. "But," said he, "if I must give my opinion, I should say that you have no good preachers in England." "No," said Mr. L. "No," said he; "that is, I mean no such preachers as we have in the Principality." "I know," said Mr. L., "you are famous for jumping in Wales, but that is not owing, I suppose, so much to the strain of preaching which the people hear, as to the enthusiasm of their characters." "Indeed," said the Welshman, "you would jump too, if you heard and understood such preaching." "Why," said Mr. L., "do you think I could make them jump, if I were to preach to them?" "You make them jump!" exclaimed the Welshman. "You make them jump! A Welshman would set fire to the world while you were lighting your match." The whole company became very much interested in this new turn of the subject, and unanimously requested the good man to give some specimen of the style and manner of preaching in the Principality. "Specimen," said he, "I cannot give you; if John Elias were here, he would give you a specimen indeed—oh! John Elias is a great preacher." "Well," said the company, "give us something that you have heard from him." "Oh no!" said he, "I cannot do justice to it; besides, do you understand the Welsh language?" They said, "No, not so as to follow a discourse." "Then," said he, "it is impossible for ye to understand it, if I were to give you a specimen." "But," said they, "cannot you put it into English?" "Oh!" said he, "your poor meagre language would spoil it; it is not capable of expressing those ideas which a Welshman can conceive; I cannot give you a specimen in English without spoiling it." The interest of the company was increased, and nothing would do but something of a specimen; while they promised to make every allowance for the language. "Well," said the Welshman, "if you must have a piece, I must try, but I don't know what to give you. I do not recollect a piece of John Elias; he is our best preacher; I must think a little; well, I recollect a piece of Christ.171mas Evans. Christmas Evans was a good preacher, and I heard him a little time ago at an association of ministers. He was preaching on the depravity of man by sin—of his recovery by the death of Christ,—and he said : “Brethren, if I were to represent you in a figure, the condition of man as a sinner, and the means of its recovery by the cross of Jesus Christ, I should represent it somewhat in this way. Suppose a large graveyard surrounded by a high wall, with only one entrance, which is by a large iron gate, which is fast bolted. Within these walls are thousands and tens of thousands of human beings, of all ages and of all classes, by one epidemic disease bending to the grave—the grave yawns to swallow them and they must all die. There is no balm to relieve them—no physician there—they must perish. This is the condition of man as a sinner—all, all have sinned, and the soul that sinneth it shall die. While man was in this deplorable state, Mercy, the darling attribute of Deity, came down and stood at the gate, looked at the scene and wept over it, exclaiming, ‘Oh that I might enter, I would bind up their wounds—I would relieve their sorrows, I would save their souls!’ While Mercy stood weeping at the gate, an embassy of angels, commissioned from the court of heaven to some other world, passing over, paused at the sight, and heaven forgave that pause; and seeing Mercy standing there, they cried, ‘Mercy, Mercy, can you not enter? Can you look upon this scene and not pity? Can you pity and not relieve?’ Mercy replied, ‘I can see,’ and in tears she added, ‘I can pity but I cannot relieve.’ ‘Why can you not enter?’ ‘Oh!’ said Mercy, ‘Justice has barred the gate against me, and I cannot, must not unbar it.’ At this moment Justice himself appeared, as it were, to watch the gate. The angels inquired of him, ‘Why will you not let mercy in?’ Justice replied, ‘My law is broken, and it must be honored. Die they or Justice must!’ At this, there appeared a form among the angelic band, like unto the Son of God, who addressing himself to Justice, said, ‘What are thy demands?’ Justice replied, ‘My terms are stern and rigid—I must have sickness for their health—I must have ignominy for their honor—I must have death for life.’ ‘Without shedding of blood there is no remission.’ ‘Justice,’ said the Son of God, ‘I accept thy terms. On me be this wrong, and let Mercy enter.’ ‘When,’ said Justice, ‘will you perform this promise?’ Jesus replied, ‘Four thousand years hence upon the hill of Calvary, without the gates of Jerusalem, I will perform it in my own person.’ The deed was prepared, and signed in the presence of the angels of God—Justice was satisfied and Mercy entered, preaching salvation in the name of Jesus. The deed was committed to the patriarchs, by them to the kings of Israel and the prophets; by them it was preserved till Daniel’s seventy weeks were accomplished; then, at the appointed time, Justice appeared on the hill of Calvary, and Mercy presented to him the important deed. ‘Where,’ said Justice, ‘is the Son of God?’ Mercy answered, ‘Behold him at the bottom of the hill, bearing his own cross; and then she departed and stood aloof at the hour of trial. Jesus ascended the hill, while in his train followed his weeping church. Justice immediately presented him with the deed, saying, ‘This is the day when this bond is to be executed.’ When he received it, did he tear it in pieces and give it to the winds of heaven? No, he nailed it to his cross, exclaiming, ‘It is consummated.’ Justice called on holy fire to come down and consume the sacrifice. Holy fire descended! . . . and there was darkness over the whole heavens: but ‘Glory to God in the highest; on earth peace, good will to men.’ “This,” said the Welshman, “this is but a specimen of Christmas Evans.”—Ad. Herald.