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 circumstances 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 constitution 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