"Order things so, O Lord, that they may not prove a hindrance, and a discouragement to me, and an obstacle to the progress of Thy cause.

Thy power is infinite, and Thy wisdom infallible. Stand between me, and all strife, that no evil effect may fall upon me. I flee under the shadow of Thy wings to hide myself, as the chickens do under the wings of the hen. Let nothing corrupt, and extinguish my gifts, my zeal, my prosperity; let nothing hinder the Church.

"I have been earnestly requested, by many of my brethren in the ministry, to prepare some of my sermons for the press. In Anglesea, I had no leisure for such work, although I once commenced it, and wrote out five for the purpose. I let the work rest for two years, at Caerphilly; but, here, my mind has been moved towards it anew; and now I come to Thee, O Lord, who art the Head of the Church, and the chief Prophet and Teacher of the Church, to consult Thee, whether I shall proceed with the work, or not. Is it a part of my duty, or a foolish device of my own? I beseech, for Thy name's sake, Thy gracious guidance herein. Permit me not to labour, with my weak eyesight, at a work that Thou wilt not deign to bless, but that shall be buried in oblivion,-unless it may please Thee (for Thou hast the keys of the house of David), in Thy providence, to prepare my way to publish the work, without danger to myself, of debt, and disgrace; and unless it may please Thee, the great Shepherd of the sheep, to guide me, to give forth the true Gospel, not only without error, but with the savour, and unction that pervade the works of Bunyan, and the hymns of William Williams; and, also, may they prove for the edification of Thy Church, and the conversion of sinners! If Thou wilt condescend to take the work under Thy care, help me to accomplish the design.

"In reading the 91st Psalm, I perceive that he who dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High, shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty; and that is so safe a place, and so impenetrable a protection, that the arrow that flieth by day, and the pestilence that walketh in darkness, with the sting of the serpent, the asp, and the viper, cannot hurt or injure him who hath made it his refuge. It is by faith, I hope, that I have gathered together all my jewels, and placed them under the shadow of safety that is in G.o.d. I have given my name anew to Christ, my body, my talents, my facility in preaching,-my name, and character as a man, a Christian, and as a preacher of the Gospel; my time, the remainder of my preaching services, my success, my wife, and all my friends, and helpers in the cause of the Lord, for whom I earnestly pray that they may be blessed in Anglesea, Caernarvonshire, Caerphilly, Cardiff, and all the churches in Wales, many of which have helped me in my day."

CHAPTER X.

_CAERNARVON AND LAST DAYS_.

Leading a Forlorn Hope again-More Chapel Debts-A Present of a Gig-Jack, _bach_!-The One-eyed Man of Anglesea once more-The Old Man's Reflections in his Journal-Characteristic Letters on Church Discipline-Threescore Years and Twelve-Starts on his Last Journey to liquidate a Chapel Debt-An Affecting Appeal to the Churches-Laid up at Tredegar-Conversations-In Swansea-This is my Last Sermon-Dying-Last Words-"Good-bye! Drive on!"

The last field of the great, good man's pastorate was Caernarvon; thither he removed when about sixty-seven years of age. It might be thought, that after such a hard, and exhausting life of travel, and toil, some plan might have been devised, by which his last days should be pa.s.sed in restfulness, and peace; but it was not to be so: throughout his life, his had been up-hill work, no path of roses, no easy way; and, indeed, we usually know that such spheres are reserved for men who can carry nothing with them but the weight of dignified dulness. Of every sphere, from his first settlement at Lleyn, we read, that the cause was in a prostrate condition; and so, here, Christmas Evans appears to have been invited to take the charge of the Caernarvon church because it consisted of about thirty members, chiefly of the lowest cla.s.s, of course quarrelling, and disunited. The dissolution of the church was advised. There was a fairly respectable place of worship, but it was 800 in debt, apparently, to us, in these days, not a very large sum, but a sum of considerable importance in Wales, and especially in that day.

So the question was discussed at a ministerial a.s.sociation, and some brother minister present, delivered himself of a confirmatory dream he had had on the subject, and the matter was practically settled, when a young minister spoke up, in the conference, and said to the venerable man, "Yes, you had better go to Caernarvon: it is not likely your talents would suit, but you might do excellently well at Caernarvon." The impudent speech astounded all the ministers present, except the unfortunate utterer of it. They knew not what to say. After a pause, the brethren all struck utterly dumb, Christmas Evans opened his one large eye upon his adviser, and, with some indignation, he said, "Ay, where hast thou come from? How long is it since thou didst chip thy sh.e.l.l?" Well, it was the very word: no one else could have, in so summary a manner, crunched up the thin egg-sh.e.l.l of pretentious conceit.

There was a real desire, on the part of the trustees of Caernarvon, and of English friends in Liverpool, that he should return to the north; and some gentlemen facilitated his return by giving him a gig, so that he might travel at his ease, and in his own way. This was not a very great donation, but it added, materially, to his comfort: he was able to travel pleasantly, and conveniently with Mrs. Evans. His horse, Jack, had been his companion for twenty years, but the pair were very fond of one another. Jack knew, from a distance, the tones of his master's voice; and Christmas, on their journeys, would hold long conversations with Jack. The horse opened his ears the moment his master began to speak, made a kind of neighing, when the rider said, as he often did, "Jack, _bach_, we have only to cross one low mountain again, and there will be capital oats, excellent water, and a warm stable," etc.

So he bade farewell to Cardiff in 1832, and upon the following Sunday, after his farewell there, he appears to have commenced his new ministry.

It seems pathetic to us, to think of the old man, but we have no idea that he had any such pity, or sympathy for himself. Who can doubt, either, that he favoured, and hailed the opportunity of the return to the north? and Caernarvon, and Anglesea were almost one: he had but to cross the Menai Straits to be again in Anglesea-Anglesea, the scene of so many trials, and triumphs, where he had planted so many churches, sustained so many spiritual conflicts, and enjoyed, in his Cildwrn cottage, no doubt, years of much domestic happiness. It seems to us he ought never to have left Anglesea; but he regarded his exile to Caerphilly as a mission, that was to terminate, if success should crown it. And so he was back again in the old neighbourhood, and it appears, that the announcement of his return created universal delight, and joy, and strong excitement. He had been absent for about seven years, and the people, on account of his advanced age, when leaving them, expected to see him bowed with infirmity, and his preaching power, they supposed, would rather affectingly remind them of what he had been.

Shortly after his entrance upon the work of Caernarvon, a public occasion presented itself for his appearance in Anglesea. The whole neighbourhood flocked out, to see the patriarch. As he appeared on the platform, or preaching-place, in the open-air,-for no chapel could have contained the mult.i.tude,-the people said, "Why, he does not seem at all older! he looks more like a man of forty-five, than sixty-five, or sixty-six." And his preaching was just the same, or, possibly, even richer, and greater: it was his own old self, their own old Christmas Evans; the same rich, and excursive fancy, the same energetic, and fiery delivery. The appearance of such a man, under such circ.u.mstances,-one who has worn well, borne the burden and heat of the day, and taken his part "on the high places of the field,"-is a mighty awakening, and heart-healing time for old believers, who find their love to each other renewed in the rekindled love to the old pastor, and father in Christ. Old memories very tenderly touch reciprocating hearts. The old words, and the old voice, awaken old emotions, which now have become new. But, then, it is only a minister with a heart, who can touch this well-spring of feeling: starched respectability will not do it, eminent collegiate learning will not do it, rolling rhetorical periods will not do it. It is only the great hearts who can open these sluices of feeling, these fountains of emotion, in which the past, and the present mingle together, as the hearers drink refreshing streams from the fountains of recollection.

While in Caernarvon, he penned in his journal the following pious reflections:-

"I have been thinking of the great goodness of the Lord unto me, throughout my unworthy ministry; and now, in my old age, I see the work prospering wonderfully in my hand, so that there is reason to think that I am, in some degree, a blessing to the Church, when I might have been a burden to it, or rather a curse, by which one might have been induced to wish me laid in the earth, that I might no longer prevent the progress of the work. Thanks be to G.o.d, that it is not so! though I deserve no better, yet I am in the land of mercy.

This is unto me, according to the manner of G.o.d unto His people. My path in the valley, the dangers, and the precipices of destruction upon which I have stood, rush into my thoughts, and also the sinking of many in death, and the downfall of others by immorality, and their burial in Kibroth-Hattaavah, the graves of inordinate desire; together with the withering, the feebleness, and the unfruitfulness of some, through the influence of a secret departure from G.o.d, and of walking in the hidden paths, that lead to apostasy."

And here we may most appropriately insert a very characteristic letter, which shows the exceedingly stringent ideas which Christmas Evans entertained with regard to Church membership,-strait ideas, which, we suppose, would be scarcely tolerable now:-

"LETTER TO A BROTHER MINISTER ON CHURCH DISCIPLINE.

"BELOVED BROTHER,-I write to you, August 5th, 1836, in the seventieth year of my age, and in the fiftieth of my ministry, after conversing much with ministerial brethren, earnestly desiring to see our a.s.sociational Union brought into action, by representatives of the churches, with a view to promote a determination,-1. To bear each other's burden more efficiently, in the denomination to which we belong. I lament the deficiency in this point, and ardently wish to see it effectually remedied. 2. To watch over and promote a holy conversation among all the members, and all the preachers, in a more efficient manner, to prevent persons of unbecoming conversation from obtaining privileges, in any church, when they have been excluded in another; for that would occasion blots, and blemishes to appear on the bright countenance of the ministry. The a.s.sociational Union, in which all the churches of the same faith, and order join, should be a defence of the independence of the churches, through their representatives: it should also operate as a sort of check upon independency, lest it should become opposed to the general good, and frustrate the co-operation of the whole body. _That they may all be one_, is the motto.

"Respecting Church discipline. We cannot be certain that we are doing right, by administering the same punishment to all offenders, even for the same offence; for the general character weighs heavily, in the balance of discipline. Also, a distinction should be made between the seducer, and the seduced; and between being overcome, or falling into sin, and living habitually in sin, and following it, as a slave following his master. The denial of Peter, from weakness, and without previous deliberation, was very different from the betrayal of Judas, and his intentional selling of Christ. The different characters of Saul, king of Israel, and that of David, required different treatment, in discipline, on account of their offences. The Lord's discipline upon Saul was that of a rod of iron, but upon David, the correcting rod of a Father, for his good, that he might be a partaker of His holiness.

"There are two things, brother, which we ought to avoid in the exercise of discipline: 1, we should avoid too great severity on the one part; and, 2, too much leniency on the other part. Wisdom is necessary here to distinguish the different characters,-those who require severity, and those who claim tenderness: the two are to be found blended in the principle of evangelical discipline. A difference is to be made betwixt some, who may have been companions in the same crime; s.n.a.t.c.hing some of them as brands from the burning.

The ground of the distinction lies in the different amount of guilt, which subsists between the seducer, and seduced.

"I have witnessed danger, and have sustained some harm myself, and seen harm done in churches, by exercising tenderness towards some persons, in the vain hope of their reformation. Receiving verbal testimony, or mere fluent acknowledgments, from their lips, without waiting for fruit, in action, also; some having been often accused; and as often turning to the refuges frequented by them. I never exercised tenderness towards such as these, without being repaid by them afterwards, if they had opportunity: Shimei-like, they would curse me, after I had shed the best oil of tenderness on their heads.

There are some in the Christian Church like Jezebel; and there are some in our congregations like Joab, the son of Zeruiah, that you can scarce discipline them without rending the kingdom, until they become ripe for judgment; for they hardly ever repent, more than did Joab and Shimei: they are ultimately suddenly broken, without any danger to the Church from their fall.

"I perceive that the Scriptures make a difference between one that falls into sin, and one wallowing in it; between one overtaken by a party of marauders, and dragged into the camp, and made drunk at supper, and one, like Judas, going to the party, and being secretly one of them, having pistols as they had: such are hypocrites. I have many times been the advocate of the fallen, and in a variety of instances have observed this operating beneficially for the Church.

Sometimes I have found those who had been spared upon their own verbal contrition, blessing G.o.d for His long forbearance of them, and also their spiritual brethren, who had in a manner set their bones; as the Scripture hath it, 'Restore such an one in the spirit of meekness.'

"We should be careful that discretion, and love, be in exercise, though in strife, and contention it be not always an easy matter to do this. When the beasts of dissension get loose from the caravan, Satan sometimes drives them through the streets of Zion, that they may enter the houses of the inhabitants; and like the lioness that escaped from the keepers at Shrewsbury, and attacked the foremost horse in the carriage, so contentions frequently attack the leaders, in order to stop the carriage of the ministry as it travels on, in the labours of the pulpit. In the midst of the noise of strife, the man of G.o.d must raise his voice to heaven for courage, and tenderness, so that the oil of Christ's love to the souls of men may be found in the oil-flagon of reproof, which is poured on the head; for if anger, and revenge enter in, they will drop, like the spider in Germany, into the pot, and that will prevent the salutary effect of the oil, because the poison of wrath is mixed with it. The righteousness of G.o.d cannot be fulfilled in this manner in the discipline. Oh, brother! who is sufficient for these things, without constant help from heaven? How awful is this place! This is the house of G.o.d, and the gate of heaven; and here is a ladder, by which we may climb up for help, and a school, in which we may learn how to conduct ourselves in the house of G.o.d.

"You cannot but be conscious, brother, of the great difficulty there is not to speak unadvisedly with our lips, as did Moses, whilst drawing water for the rebellious Israelites. The rebellion of the people had embittered his spirit, so that his obduracy stood like a cloud between the people, and the tenderness of the Lord, when He was showing mercy upon them by giving them water. Moses upbraided their rebellion instead of showing mercy, as the dispensation of G.o.d now required; a dispensation which contained in it a secret intimation of the great mercy to be shown by the death of Christ on the cross.

Their strife was the cause of embittering the spirit of Moses, yet he should have possessed his soul in patience.

"There are two things, brother, which you should observe. First, you will be called upon to attend to causes of contention; and you will find persons so hardened, that you will not be able to obtain weapons, in all the armoury of G.o.d's Word, that will terrify them, and make them afraid of entering their old haunts. Such are persons without faith, and without the fear of G.o.d, and the love of Christ influencing their minds; and though you warn them of the consequences of their contentions, that they are likely to deprive them of the privileges of the house of G.o.d, and thus forfeit the promised land, yet they stand unmoved, nothing terrified, for they value the flesh-pots of Egypt, and their livelihood there, more than the manna, and the land of promise. You cannot frighten them by speaking of the danger, and loss of the immunities of the Church below, or that above. Esau-like, they will sell their birthright, as Christian professors, for a mess of pottage. A man who has no money is not afraid to meet with robbers in the wood; but he who has gold to lose will be cautious, and watchful, lest he should be robbed of his property. On a night of great storm, when ships are broken to pieces, and sinking, a person who has no share in any of them will not tremble, or feel any concern on their account. Thus there are some men, concerning whom it is impossible to make them dread going out among the rapacious beasts of backslidings, and no storms can keep them in fear. Their spirit is one with the marauders, and they have no care, for they have nothing to lose in the tempests that blow upon the cause of the religion of Christ. These are the tares, or the children of the wicked one, in the Church.

"Secondly, for your own encouragement, brother, I remark that you will have to attend to the exercise of discipline, and to treat with persons that may be alarmed, and made to tremble at the Word of G.o.d, and not rush on presumptuously in their evil course. These are professors, who possess white garments, and the gold of faith, and eye-salve from the unction of the Holy One. These individuals are rich in faith. They are afraid of revolutions, and upsettings of the const.i.tutional order of the new covenant, for they have funds invested in the stocks of G.o.d's kingdom. They are afraid that any storm, or rock of offence should come in the way of the Gospel ship, for their treasure is on board it, and they have an interest in it.

They dread the thought of walking unwatchfully, and licentiously, lest they should be robbed of their riches, and forfeit the fellowship of G.o.d in prayer, lose the light of His countenance, and His peace in the means of grace, and lest they should be deprived of their confidence in the merits of Christ, and a good conscience.

They have denied themselves, and have pulled out the right eye, lest they should not be acceptable before G.o.d. They dread harbouring in their bosoms the old guilt and former doubts. They are cautious not to give a night's lodging to such miscreants as anger, revenge, l.u.s.t, and things which are of the earth; for they know that these are robbers, and if they have any indulgence they will steal away the _t.i.tle-deeds_ of a.s.surance to the inheritance. They are well aware, also, that they will sustain the loss of a pure conscience, which has been purged by the blood of Christ, and which, as a golden chest, is a preserver of our confidence, immovable unto the end. It is possible, brother, to manage, and discipline such professors. They have something to lose, consequently they will not flee from their refuge, lest they should be destroyed. _Keep that which thou hast_.

David lost for a season the enjoyment of the above blessings; but he was cleansed with hyssop, had his spirit renewed, and his riches were restored to him by faith's view of the Messiah, for which he vowed to sing aloud for ever, and ever. He prayed, after this, to be delivered from presumptuous sins, lest he should be imprisoned a second time by a party so wicked, and detestable. May the spiritual gift be kindled in you, brother. Grace be with you, for ever, and ever.

"Affectionately, "CHRISTMAS EVANS.

"_Caernarvon_, _August_ 5_th_, 1836."

But it was hard work in Caernarvon. The debt upon the chapel was a perpetually-recurring trouble. We have said when he went there eight hundred pounds was the burden, and that the people were very poor. Of this eight hundred, four hundred seems to have been collected by a Mr.

John Edwards, who used, as his introduction, in asking for contributions, the specimen of Welsh eloquence to which we have referred (The Graveyard World); so that Christmas Evans may, really, be regarded as the liquidator of the debt to that extent. The time came when the whole remaining sum had to be paid. What could be done? Over seventy years of age, the old man started forth, on a tour through the south, to attempt to raise the sum. In April, 1838, when he had been four years in Caernarvon, he set off with his wife, and a young preacher, the Rev. John Hughes. Before he set out, he wrote a circular to his brethren, which was published in the _Welsh Magazine_. It is scarcely possible, we think, to read it, remembering who wrote it, and the circ.u.mstances under which it was written, without tears of feeling:-

"DEAR BRETHREN,-We have received notice to pay up three hundred pounds. The term of the lease of life has expired in my case, even threescore and ten years, and I am very much afflicted. I have purposed to sacrifice myself to this object, though I am afraid I shall die on the journey" (he did die on his journey); "and I fear I shall not succeed in my errand for Christ. We have no source to which we can now repair, but our own denomination in Wales, and brethren, and friends of other communities, that may sympathize with us. Oh, brethren, pray, with me, for protection on the journey-for strength, and health this _once_, on occasion of my bidding farewell to you all! pray for the light of the Lord's countenance upon me in preaching; pray for His own glory, and that His key may open the hearts of the people, to contribute towards His cause in its present exigency. Oh, help us, brethren!-when you see the old brother, after having been fifty-three years in the ministry, now, instead of being in the grave with his colleagues, or resting at home with three of them who are yet alive-brethren Lewis of Llanwenarth, Davies of Velin Voel, and Thomas of Aberduar,-when you see him coming, with the furrows of death in his countenance, the flowers of the grave on his head, and his whole const.i.tution gradually dissolving; having laboured fifty years in the ministry in the Baptist denomination. He comes to you with hundreds of prayers, bubbling, as it were, from the fountain of his heart, and with a mixture of fear, and confidence.

Oh, do not frown upon him!-he is afraid of your frowns. Smile upon him, by contributing to his cause, this once for all. If you frown upon me, ministers and deacons, by intimating an _irregular case_, I am afraid I shall sink into the grave before returning home. This is my last sacrifice for the Redeemer's cause."

Naturally, wherever he pa.s.sed along, he was received by all the churches, and throughout every county, with more than cordiality-with great joy.

He was very successful in raising money for the purpose which urged him forth from home: perhaps his popularity was never so great as now. Mr.

Cross, one of his biographers, says, that wherever he preached, the place was thronged at an early hour, and, frequently, mult.i.tudes remained outside, unable to obtain admittance. He reached Monmouthshire, and preached before the County a.s.sociation; and it is said, that the sermon evinced all his vigour of intellect, and splendour of genius, and as perfect a command over the feelings of the great audience as ever. One of his great images here was his description 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. His text was, "By grace ye are saved."

But the effort was too much for him, and he was laid up for a week at the house of Mr. Thomas Griffith, a kind host, who, with his whole family, attempted, in every way, to minister to his comfort, and, with affectionate a.s.siduity, sought to restore him. On the whole, he appears to have been full of vivacity that week, and, during the intervals of pain, cheered, and charmed his friends. He had, one day, come downstairs, and Mr. James, the son-in-law of his host, was helping him up again. He had only got a few steps, when he said buoyantly, "Mr. James, I dare say if I thought the French were behind me with their bayonets, I should be able to get upstairs without your help." With the word he took his arm from Mr. James's shoulder, and briskly ran up the flight of steps, laughing at his feat.

His conversation was, however, usually brightly religious. "This is the Gospel," he said once in the course of talk-"This is the Gospel: 'He that believeth shall be saved.' Now, in order to the truth of this declaration, every believer must be saved. If, in the last day, the great enemy find one single soul not saved, who ever believed the Gospel, he would take that soul up, present that soul to the Judge, and to the immense a.s.sembly, and say, 'The Gospel is not true.' He would take that lost believer through all the regions of pandemonium, and exhibit him in triumph to the devils, and the d.a.m.ned." "But," said his host, "that shall never be, Mr. Evans." "No," said he, planting the forefinger of his right hand on his knee, as was his wont, and exclaiming, in a tone of triumphant congratulation, "_Never_! _never_! _never_!"

Leaving the house of Mr. Griffith, of Tredegar, he proceeded on his way, preaching at Caerphilly, Cardiff, Cowbridge, Bridgend, and Neath, and he reached Swansea on Sat.u.r.day, July 14th. The next day, Sunday, he preached twice-preached like a seraph, says one of his memorialists: in the morning his subject was the Prodigal Son; the evening, "I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ." He was the guest of Daniel Davies, the pastor of the Welsh Baptist Church in the town, the blind preacher, as he was called, a man of great celebrity, and unquestioned power. He was to be the last host of his greater brother, or rather father, in the ministry. On the Monday evening, he went out to tea, with a friend who was always glad to greet him, Mr. David Walters; and on the same evening he preached, in English, in Mount Pleasant Chapel: his text was, "Beginning at Jerusalem." He was very feeble,-perhaps we need scarcely wonder at that, after the two services of the day before. He always felt a difficulty when preaching in English, and, upon this occasion, he seemed much tried; gleams, and flashes of his ordinary brilliancy there were, as in the following:-

"Beginning at Jerusalem! Why at Jerusalem? The Apostles were to begin there, because its inhabitants had been witness to the life, and death of Christ; there He had preached, wrought miracles, been crucified, and rose again. Here, on the very spot of His deepest degradation, He was also to be exalted: He had been crucified as a malefactor, He was now to be elevated in the same place as a King; here were accorded to Him the first-fruits of His resurrection." This was the strain of the sermon:-"'At Jerusalem, Lord?' 'Yes.' 'Why, Lord, these are the men who crucified Thee; we are not to preach it to _them_?' 'Yes, preach it to all.' 'To the man who plaited the crown of thorns, and placed it on Thy Head?' 'Yes; tell him that from My degradation he may obtain a crown of glory.' 'Suppose we meet the very man that nailed Thy hands and feet to the cross, the very man that pierced Thy side, that spat in Thy face?'

'Preach the Gospel to them all: tell them all that I am the Saviour; that all are welcome to partic.i.p.ate in the blessings of My salvation; I am the same Lord over all, and rich unto all that call on Me.'" Such were some of the most characteristic pa.s.sages. As he was coming down the pulpit stairs, he said, loud enough to be heard by many present, "_This is my last sermon_!"

And it was even so. He was taken very ill during the night; the next day he was worse, the next day worse still, and then medical a.s.sistance was called in. But on the Thursday, he got up, and walked for some time in the garden. It seems doubtful whether he thought that his end was so near, although he had a dream, in one of the early evenings in the week, in which he seemed to come up to a great river, which he did not then cross, so that he scarcely thought his work or life might be over even yet.

But on Thursday night he was worse again, and on Friday morning, at two o'clock, he said to his friends, Mr. Davies, Mr. Hughes, and others round his bed, "I am leaving you. I have laboured in the sanctuary fifty-three years, and this is my comfort, that I have never laboured without blood in the basin,"-the ruling power of imagination strong in him to the close, evidently meaning that he had never failed to preach Christ and Him crucified. A few more remarks of the same character: "Preach Christ to the people, brethren. Look at me: in myself I am nothing but ruin, but in Christ I am heaven, and salvation." He repeated a verse from a favourite Welsh hymn, and then, as if he had done with earth, he waved his hand, and exclaimed, "GOOD-BYE! DRIVE ON!"

It seems another instance of the labour of life pervading by its master-idea the hour of death. For how many years the "one-eyed man" of Anglesea had gone to, and fro on his humble nag! As we have seen, lately his friends had given him a gig, that he might be more at ease in his Master's service; still he had his old horse, companion of his many journeys. While he was dying, the old mountain days of travel came over his memory-"GOOD-BYE!" said he. "DRIVE ON!" He turned over, and seemed to sleep. He slept indeed. His friends tried to rouse him, but the angelic postman had obeyed the order,-the chariot had pa.s.sed over the everlasting hills. So he died, July 19th, 1838, in the seventy-third year of his age, and fifty-fourth of his ministry.

His funeral took place four days after his death, in the burying-ground attached to the Welsh Baptist Chapel, in Swansea. It is said there never was such a funeral in Swansea, such a concourse, and crowd of mourners, weeping their way to the grave, and following, as it had been their father. Fountains of sorrow were everywhere unsealed throughout the Princ.i.p.ality, in Anglesea especially, where he had pa.s.sed the greater portion of his life; indeed, throughout the Princ.i.p.ality, there was scarcely a pulpit, of the order to which he belonged, which was not draped in black; and it was evident that all felt "a prince and a great man had fallen in Israel."

CHAPTER XI.