his enemies on the cross, but he manifested forgiveness to them only through faith in his blood, upon their repentance or change of their minds towards God, when they were pierced in their hearts on the day of Pentecost.

"Affectionately,

"CHRISTMAS EVANS.

Caernarvon, August 7, 1836."

CHAPTER XI.

Select Passages: The burial-ground. -The wicked spirit walking in dry places.-Searching for the young child.Different methods of preaching.—Parables : The six crocodiles --The consultation in the forest of Lebanon.-The three birds.-Satan in the garb of an angel of light.

SELECT pieces are here presented, illustrative of the imaginative character of Mr. Evans's talents, and of his peculiar eloquence in the exhibition of divine truth.

In furnishing the following specimens of his friend's eloquence, the writer regrets exceedingly his utter incapacity to exhibit in an efficient manner the almost superhuman energy with which he delivered such passages as are here selected; and would bespeak the candor of his readers, while premising the great difficulty of rendering into the English language the peculiar construction of Mr. Evans's sentences and also his pulpit rhetoric, which so greatly transcended his written compositions.

He would further remark, that here, as well as in all other instances throughout the work, he has chosen

to give a faithful, though not always a rigidly literal translation of Mr. E.'s own writings. He has wished to render them in language, as much as possible, such as Mr. E. would have used himself had he spoken in English; his object being to show his friend to his readers in his own peculiar habiliments. This, it is hoped, will be deemed a sufficient excuse for any peculiarities that may be perceptible to the eye of the critic.

"Brethren, if I should compare the natural state of man, I should conceive of an immense grave-yard,

*The passage above quoted has been long familiar to English readers under the title of the "Specimen of Welsh preaching." It has in their minds become so much identified with the memory of Christmas Evans, and with all their notions of his peculiarities and power as a preacher; and it is withal so beautiful a version into English, that it has been thought best to retain it. It is at the same time due to truth, that the writer of this memoir should say that this popular version omits much of the characteristic imagery of Mr. Evans; while it is perhaps free from some of the objections on the ground of taste that might be urged against the original. It has been thought best, therefore, to insert a closer version of Mr. Evans's language in this note. Delivered with all his energy of spirit, and with all the volume and power of his wondrous voice, it produced of necessity an overpowering sensation in those who were privileged to be his hearers, and to whom the Welsh was their vernacular tongue. It was a passage that in the course of his itineracy

filled with yawning sepulchres, and dead and dying men. All around are lofty walls and massive iron

he often repeated, and of course with frequent variations. The mode in which it appears in the above "specimen," was that perhaps used by the preacher when the narrator heard him. The form in which it appears in this note is that in which it was committed to writing by an intimate friend of Mr. Evans, and in which, for substance, it was heard from Mr. E.'s lips by the editor of the present memoir. All the stores of his energy, and the resources of his voice, which was one of great compass, depth, and sweetness, seemed reserved for the closing portions of the picture, when he delineated the routed and battered hosts of the pit retreating from the cross, where they had anticipated a triumph, and met a signal and irretrievable overthrow.

There is perhaps more of the crude ore of genius seen in the passage as here written. There is more of taste in the early English copy. It is more free from dross, and wrought into more symmetry in this version, that had long before Mr. Evans's death obtained such wide currency and won such general admiration. The finest thought, that of the flame consuming the human nature of the Redeemer, and expiring in the instant it touched his Deity, is common to both versions. The bond sealed and promptly discharged is not retained by Mr. Evans's friend in the form in which it appears in this note. The holy angels offered as sureties and rejected, and the fallen angels routed by Christ's sacrifice, are features wanting in the picture as it was originally published and generally circulated. Had he enjoyed the advantages of education, the high natural powers of the Welsh preacher, and his Christian graces, would have enabled him, it seems to us, to have blended the impassioned declamation of

gates. At the gate stands Mercy, sad spectatress of the melancholy scene An angel flying through the

Whitefield, with something of the imperial opulence and pomp of fancy that distinguished Jeremy Taylor.

ness.

THE BURIAL-GROUND.

"Methinks I find myself standing upon the summit of one of the highest of the everlasting hills, permitted thence to take a survey of our earth. It shows to me a wide and far-spread burial-ground, over which lie scattered in countless multitudes the wretched and perishing children of Adam. The ground is full of hollows, the yawning caverns of death, whilst over it broods a thick cloud of fearful darkNo light from above shines upon it, nor is the ray of the sun or moon, or the beams of the candle seen through all its borders. It is walled around. Its gates, large and massive, ten thousand times stronger than all the gates of brass forged amongst men, are one and all safely locked. It is the hand of Divine Justice that has locked them, and so firmly secured are those strong bolts which hold these doors, that all the created powers even of the heavenly world, were they to labor to all eternity, could not drive so much as one of them back. How hopeless the wretchedness to which the race are doomed, and into what irrecoverable depths of ruin has the disobedience of their first parent plunged them!

"But behold, in the cool of the day there is seen descending from the eternal hills in the distance, the radiant form of Mercy, seated in the chariot of the divine promise, and clothed with splendor, infinitely brighter than the golden rays of the morning when seen shooting over mountains of pearls. Seated beside Mercy in that chariot is seen another form like unto the Son of man. His mysterious name is the 'seed of the woman,' and girt around him shines the girdle