Christmas Evans, the Preacher of Wild Wales: His country, his times, and his contemporariesHood, Edwin Paxton
History
Christmas Evans, the Preacher of Wild Wales: His country, his times, and his contemporaries
Hood, Edwin Paxton
Evans, Christmas, 1766-1838
The preacher appears to have been desirous of teaching the beautiful
truth, that a mind preoccupied, and inhabited by Divine thoughts, cannot
entertain an evil visitor, but is compelled to betake himself to flight,
by the strong expulsive power of Divine affections. He commenced, by
describing Satan as a vast and wicked, although invisible
spirit,—somehow, as Milton might have described him; and the preacher was
not unacquainted with the grand imagery of the “Paradise Lost,” in which
the poet describes the Evil One, when he tempts, with wandering feet, the
dark, unbottomed, infinite abyss, and, through the palpable obscure,
seeks to find out his uncouth way. Christmas described him, as spreading
his airy flight on indefatigable wings, determined to insinuate himself,
through the avenues of sense, to some poor soul, and lure it to
destruction. And, with this end, flying through the air, and seeking for
a dwelling-place, he found himself moving over one of those wide Welsh
moors, the preacher so well knew, and had so often travelled; and his
fiery, although invisible glance, espied a young lad, in the bloom of his
days, and the strength of his powers, sitting on the box of his cart,
driving on his way to the quarries for slate or lime.
`“‘There he is,’ said Satan; ‘his veins are full of blood, his bones
are full of marrow. I will cast my sparks into his bosom, and set
all his passions on fire; I will lead him on, and he shall rob his
master, and lose his place, and find another, and rob again, and do
worse; and he shall go on from worse to worse, and then his soul
shall sink, never to rise again, into the lake of fire.’ But just
then, as he was about to dart a fiery temptation into the heart of
the youth, the evil one heard him sing,
“‘Guide me, O Thou great Jehovah,
Pilgrim through this barren land;
I am weak, but Thou art mighty,
Hold me by Thy powerful hand;
Strong deliverer,
Be Thou still my Strength and Shield.’
‘Oh, but this is a dry place,’ said the fiery dragon as he fled away.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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