That the Calvinistic faith is not incompatible with eminent holiness of life, we have other evidence than that afforded by the history of Christmas Evans. The seraphic piety of a Bunyan, a Baxter, a Whitefield, and a Payson, should silence for ever the clamors of Arminian bigotry!
DEPRESSING VIEWS OF HIMSELF.
For several years after this, Mr. Evans entertained painfully depressing views of his Christian character and ministerial talents. He thought every other believer had more light than himself, and every other preacher greater gifts. He called himself “a mass of ignorance and sin.” He imagined his discourses entirely useless to his hearers. This he attributed partly to his habit of repeating them memoriter. Others appeared to him to speak extemporaneously, and he “thought they received their sermons directly from heaven,” while he, by memorizing his, forfeited the aid of the Holy Spirit. “I therefore changed my method,” says he, “and took a text without any premeditation, and endeavored to speak what occurred to me at the time. If bad before, it was worse now. I had neither sense nor life, nothing but a poor miserable tone, which produced no effect upon the hearers, and made me really sick of myself. I thought God had nothing to do with me as a preacher. I had no confidence in my own talents and virtues, and the very sound of my voice discouraged me. I have since perceived the great goodness of God herein, preserving me from being puffed up by too good an opinion of my own gifts and graces, which both before and since has proved fatal to many young preachers.”
These views of himself often occasioned him deep distress of mind. He entered the pulpit with dread. He conceived that the mere sight of him there was sufficient to becloud the hearts of his hearers, and intercept every ray of light from heaven. He could not ascertain that he had been the means of the salvation of a single soul during the five years of his preaching. It might have been some relief to him, could he have ventured to develope to some judicious Christian friend the disquietude of his soul. But this he dared not do, lest he should be deemed an unconverted man in the ministry, and exposed as a hypocrite to the world. So he wrapped up the painful secret in his heart, and drank his wormwood alone.
From all this, what are we to infer? That Mr. Evans had never been converted, or was not now in favour with God? We think not. All who knew him had full confidence in his piety, and thought him an excellent Christian. Whether his attention to the subject of baptism, or the Calvinistic views he had recently imbibed, had acted injuriously upon his religious enjoyment, would be an unprofitable speculation, if not otherwise improper. Perhaps these distressing doubts were but the permitted buffetings of Satan, to preserve him from spiritual pride; the preparatory darkness, which enabled him more highly to appreciate, and more earnestly to recommend to others, “the Bright and Morning Star.” Many of God’s chosen servants have been disciplined for their work in darkness. Dr. Payson, during all the earlier part of his eminently useful ministry, and John Summerfield, when his sweet persuasive tongue was leading multitudes to the Cross, were constantly distressed with doubts of their own spiritual condition. Though it is certainly the privilege of every believer to know that he is “a new creature in Christ Jesus,” we cannot thence infer that all such as have not constantly the direct witness of the Spirit are in an unregenerate state.
LABORS IN LËYN.
In 1790, Mr. Evans attended the Baptist association at Maesyberllan, in Brecknockshire. Some ministers from North Wales persuaded him to accompany them on their return. He found the Baptist people at Lëyn, in Caernarvonshire, few and feeble. They earnestly besought him to remain with them, to which he at length consented. He was immediately ordained a missionary, to itinerate among several small churches in that vicinity.
Now he began emphatically to “live by faith on the Son of God.” The burden which he had borne so long, rolled away like that of Bunyan’s Pilgrim. He received “the oil of joy for mourning, and the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.” From this time, a wonderous power attended his preaching. Many were gathered into the church, as the fruit of his labor. “I could scarcely believe,” says he, “the testimony of the people, who came before the church as candidates for membership, that they had been converted through my ministry. Yet I was obliged to believe, though it was marvellous in my eyes. This made me thankful to God, and increased my confidence in prayer. A delightful gale descended upon me, as from the hill of the New Jerusalem, and I felt the three great things of the kingdom of heaven, righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost.”
During the first year of his labors in Lëyn, he was united in marriage to Miss Catherine Jones, a pious young lady of his own church, and a very suitable companion. After this event, his duties were increasingly arduous. He frequently preached five times during the Sabbath, and walked twenty miles. His heart was full of love, and he spoke with the ardor of a seraph. Constant labor and intense excitement soon wore upon his health. He became feeble, and his friends were apprehensive of consumption. Through the mercy of God, however, he was spared; gradually recovered his strength; and performed, through the remainder of a long life, an incredible amount of ministerial labor.
VISIT TO SOUTH WALES.
Mr. Evans naturally felt a strong desire to see his friends in South Wales. During his second year at Lëyn, thinking it might benefit his enfeebled health, as well as refresh his spirit, he determined to make them a visit. He was unable to procure a horse for the journey, and the small societies to which he preached were too poor to provide him one. So he set forth on foot, preaching in every town and village through which he passed. His talents were now developed, and he had received “an unction from the Holy One.” All who heard him were astonished at his power. His old acquaintances regarded him as a new man. A great awakening followed him wherever he went. Hear his own language:—
“I now felt a power in the word, like a hammer breaking the rock, and not like a rush. I had a very powerful time at Kilvowyr, and also pleasant meetings in the neighborhood of Cardigan. The work of conversion was progressing so rapidly and with so much energy in those parts, that the ordinance of baptism was administered every month for a year or more, at Kilvowyr, Cardigan, Blaenywaun, Blaenffôs, and Ebenezer, to from ten to twenty persons each month. The chapels and adjoining burying-grounds were crowded with hearers of a week-day, even in the middle of harvest. I frequently preached in the open air in the evenings, and the rejoicing, singing, and praising would continue until broad light the next morning. The hearers appeared melted down in tenderness at the different meetings, so that they wept streams of tears, and cried out, in such a manner that one might suppose the whole congregation, male and female, was thoroughly dissolved by the gospel. ‘The word of God’ was now become as ‘a sharp two-edged sword, dividing asunder the joints and marrow,’ and revealing unto the people the secret corruptions of their hearts. Preaching was now unto me a pleasure, and the success of the ministry in all places was very great. The same people attended fifteen or twenty different meetings, many miles apart, in the counties of Cardigan, Pembroke, Caermarthen, Glamorgan, Monmouth, and Brecknock. This revival, especially in the vicinity of Cardigan, and in Pembrokeshire, subdued the whole country, and induced people everywhere to think well of religion. The same heavenly gale followed down to Fishguard, Llangloffan, Little New-Castle, and Rhydwylim, where Mr. Gabriel Rees was then a zealous and a powerful preacher. There was such a tender spirit resting on the hearers at this season, from Tabor to Middlemill, that one would imagine, by their weeping and trembling in their places of worship, and all this mingled with so much heavenly cheerfulness, that they would wish to abide for ever in this state of mind.”
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