LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
 
 a,.—. 
 
 Shelf 
 
 ..ES3TY 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 

PREACHING CHRIST 
 
 SERMONS 
 
 BY THE 
 
 Rev. Llewelyn Ioan Evans, D.D., LL.D. 
 
 Twenty -Nine Years Professor in Lane Seminary \ 
 
 With a Sketch of His Life 
 
 BY 
 
 HENRY PRESERVED SMITH, D.D. 
 
 New York : 
 THE CHRISTIAN LITERATURE CO. 
 
 1893. 
 
&3F7 
 
 [THE LIBRARY 
 
 Or C ONG RESS 
 
 yAtHiypTOif 
 
 Copyright, 1893, BY 
 The Christian Literature Co. 
 
 
TO 
 RAY LLEWELYN EVANS 
 
 THESE MEMORIALS OF HIS HONORED, BELOVED AND 
 SAINTED FATHER ARE AFFECTIONATELY 
 
 DEDICATED. 
 
 S. E. E. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 
 
 CHAPTER. PAGE. 
 
 I. Early Years , i 
 
 II. Theology and Preaching 17 
 
 III. Exegesis 31 
 
 IV. Home and Social Life 44 
 
 V. Closing Years 52 
 
 Note 68 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 I. Faith, Hope, Love 69 
 
 II. Strength 88 
 
 III. Completeness 105 
 
 IV. Cheerfulness in Giving 119 
 
 V. The New Commandment 133 
 
 VI. Living Water : 148 
 
 VII. Forgetting the Things which are Behind 164 
 
 VIII. The Disciples' Ambit : on 177 
 
 IX. The Christian's Debt 202 
 
 X. Endurance 221 
 
 XI. A Thanksgiving Sermon 237 
 
 XII. The Tests of Christianity 268 
 
 XIII. Not Rich Toward God 290 
 
 XIV. Prayer 307 
 
 XV. Christ Revealing the Father 324 
 
 XVI. The Youth of Christ 340 
 
 XVII. Bearing Each Other's Burdens 350 
 
 Preaching Christ 365 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 At my request, Dr. Henry Preserved Smith has prepared 
 this sketch of my husband's life, and arranged the sermons 
 for the press. There was especial fitness in this, because 
 Dr. Smith was for three years the pupil of Dr. Evans, and 
 the tie which binds the earnest student to the inspiring 
 instructor early became very strong. The friendship thus 
 begun, was strengthened by nineteen years of affectionate 
 intercourse as members of the same Faculty of instruction. 
 Their kindred pursuits — both being students of the Scrip- 
 tures — drew them more nearly together, and in their studies 
 they developed similar views on the points of theology, so 
 much debated in late years. They stood side by side in 
 defending the rights of scholarly investigation of the Book 
 they both loved, and their common experiences at this time 
 made them esteem each other all the more, and increased 
 their affection as it increased their intimacy. I wish here to 
 express my thanks to Dr. Smith for the manner in which he 
 has discharged his sacred duty, and to those who assisted 
 him in the preparation of the volume. 
 
 In accordance with my desire, the sermons are reproduced 
 just as they were delivered, and as they are contained in the 
 manuscripts. Had my husband lived to see them through 
 the press, he might have made changes or corrections. This 
 fact should be borne in mind in case any reader discovers 
 what seems to him faulty in arrangement or punctuation. 
 
 SARAH E. EVANS. 
 August 24, 1893. 
 
LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 EARLY YEARS. 
 
 Dr. Evans was the son of the Rev. Edward T. Evans, 
 and was born at Treuddyn, near Mold, North Wales, 
 June 27, 1833. His mother, Mary E, Roberts, was a 
 daughter of the Rev. Robert Roberts, a prominent 
 minister in the Welsh Calvinistic Methodist Church. 
 His paternal grandfather, Mr. Thomas Evans, was a 
 prominent elder in the same denomination. The fol- 
 lowing notices are translated from the Welsh biogra- 
 phy of the celebrated minister, the Rev. John Jones.* 
 It should be premised that the period was one of great 
 agitation in the denomination. The adoption of a Con- 
 fession of Faith was warmly discussed. The older min- 
 isters and elders were High Calvinists and endeavored 
 to bring the more moderate party into subjection by 
 discipline. The Rev. Robert Roberts and Mr. Thomas 
 Evans were of the liberal party. On account of their 
 expressed opposition to the measures of the majority 
 both were called to account in Presbytery and Synod. 
 The investigation ended in their favor and their vindi- 
 
 * I owe these notices to the kindness of the Rev. E. C. Evans, 
 of Remsen, N. Y., by whom the translation is made. 
 
 (1) 
 
2 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 cation led to a more liberal policy in the denomination 
 at large. 
 
 "This preaching tour [of the Rev. John Jones] proved 
 to be an important event in his life. For it was on this 
 tour that he met for the first time personally the Rev. 
 Robert Roberts of Tan-y-clawdd, the Rev. John Hughes 
 of Liverpool, and Mr. Thomas Evans, Maes-y-coed, 
 Caerwyss, who, from this time, became his most inti- 
 mate friends and so continued to the close of his life. 
 These gentlemen exerted a great influence on his views 
 of Gospel truth. They differed greatly from each other 
 in mental characteristics as in natural disposition, but 
 they were intimate friends and they were in accord in 
 holding more liberal views of the plan of redemption 
 than many of their brethren. This was distinctly true 
 with reference to some in their own presbytery, and 
 hence the three were regarded by many as not being 
 'sound in doctrine.' 
 
 ' ' The Rev. Robert Roberts was a man of great men- 
 tal ability, an excellent Welsh scholar, and remarkably 
 well versed in Celtic archaeology. He was of a philo- 
 sophical turn of mind, delighting in metaphysical in- 
 quiries, and too ready, perhaps, to bring such questions 
 into the pulpit as well as into conversation with people 
 not conversant with such themes. He had studied care- 
 fully the writings of Jonathan Edwards in the edition 
 containing the notes of Dr. Williams. He had mastered 
 thoroughly the works of Dr. Williams himself. For a 
 considerable part of his life he was a faithful disciple 
 of Dr. Williams, fully adopting his views. Not satis- 
 fied with this, he went so far as to believe them not 
 only to be of the greatest importance but to be the 
 only secure ground from which to oppose Arminianism. 
 In his later years, however, he had come to regard with 
 doubt some of these views. He doubted in particular 
 whether Dr. Williams assigned the Gospel and the 
 Word their proper and important place as the means 
 of regeneration. Still he held to the truth of Calvin- 
 ism. But while strongly opposed to Arminianism on 
 one hand, he was uncompromisingly against High Cal- 
 
EARLY YEARS. 3 
 
 vinism on the other, observing frequently that these 
 two agreed in shifting man's obligation and responsi- 
 bility from their true and proper place, making them 
 rest on God's grace. He met High Calvinists more 
 frequently than Arminians, and hence came oftener 
 into collision with them — though equally opposed to 
 both. Possibly he was not always happy in the man- 
 ner in which he expressed and defended his views. As 
 one friend said of him : in one sermon he would appear 
 more Calvinistic than others, while in the next, per- 
 haps, his views would seem to border on Arminianism. 
 
 "Mr. Roberts was acknowledged by all who knew 
 him to be a very godly man — an unusually godly man. 
 In his last years he grew more tender and sympathetic 
 in his feelings and in affection for his brethren, coming 
 to be regarded by them in turn with reverence and af- 
 fection. He died August 14, 1849, at tne a £ e °f 75 
 years, having preached the Gospel forty-nine years. 
 
 "The other friend referred to was Mr. Thomas Evans. 
 He was not a minister but an elder at Caerwyss, serving 
 efficiently and faithfully for a long term of years. His 
 personal piety, his extensive and thorough knowledge 
 of the Holy Scriptures, and especially his extraordinary 
 gift of religious discourse and devotional expression, 
 rendered his services exceedingly valuable to the church. 
 Being regarded in every circle of society in which he 
 moved as one of the wisest, keenest, and godliest of 
 men, he attained to great influence in the Presbytery to 
 which he belonged, and also in the General Synod. In 
 acquaintance with the theological writers of the period 
 (Edwards, Bellamy, Dwight, Williams, Fuller, and 
 others) hardly one among the old ministers was equal 
 to him, certainly not one surpassed him. He entered 
 upon this line of study when about eighteen years of 
 age and pursued it steadily and faithfully for over sixty 
 years. Yet he bound himself slavishly to no author. 
 He tested all he read by the standard of the Holy 
 Word, and felt free to take exception to his favorite 
 authors if he thought they had forsaken the teaching 
 of the Word of God. 'A certain brother told me (he 
 said once) that the Wesleyan Confession of Faith is: 
 
4 LLEWEYLN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 1 Every word that proceedeih from the month of fohn 
 Wesley ; but I would rather have no system at all than 
 one in which there is no room for every word that 
 proceedeth from the mouth of God. 1 Because of his 
 broad views and fidelity to the truth, he frequently ex- 
 ercised great influence in behalf of his friends. " 
 
 Thomas Evans published late in life a small volume 
 on theology, a summary of Christian doctrine for lay- 
 men. In this he alludes to the theological strifes 
 through which he had passed. He says that the zeal 
 of the Calvinistic party against Arminianism led in 
 many minds to hyper-calvinism, even to antinomianism. 
 The mercy of God, however, had raised up ministers 
 who were able to preach the unrestricted fullness of the 
 Gospel. "Some of us (he adds) had the honor of 
 suffering a little for about twenty years on account of 
 our comprehensive opinions on the doctrine of the 
 Atonement, and that from some brethren who were 
 very dear to us. And the reason we were so patient 
 was that we believed they were acting conscientiously 
 according to their light, and that their zeal was in ad- 
 vance of their knowledge." He then gives an account 
 of his own efforts to get at the truth. This is in the 
 introduction to his little treatise which is entitled 
 " Theological Meditations, or Remarks on the Con- 
 sistency of the Doctrine of the Gospel." The order of 
 the chapters is that ordinarily followed in treatises in 
 divinity, but the fact that its interest is practical rather 
 than speculative, is seen especially in the last chapter, 
 which is an appeal to the unconverted, 
 
 An extract * in Prof. Evans' own handwriting from a 
 Welsh work on Methodism in Wales, gives some further 
 account of his grandfather Roberts. From it we learn 
 
 * Kindly translated for me by the Rev. J. H.^ Griffith, now of 
 Cincinnati; 
 
EARLY YEARS. 5 
 
 that his family were much opposed to Methodism. Mr. 
 Roberts, however, was very earnest in his Christian life, 
 abandoned all frivolous pursuits, established family 
 worship in the home, notwithstanding his father's op- 
 position, and entered the ministry in spite of many 
 obstacles. 
 
 The recently published biography of the Rev. Henry 
 Rees, one of the most renowned of Welsh preachers, 
 contains an account of an important Association held at 
 Hanfyllin, in 1823. The subject under discussion was 
 the adoption of a Confession of Faith. When the 
 article on Redemption was read, "Mr. Robert Roberts 
 rose and made a strong attack upon the restriction con- 
 tained in the words 'and they [the elect] only.' He 
 called it ' an unscriptural restriction ' and charged the 
 article with ' being wise above what is written. ' Those 
 who favored the article, led by the venerable and in- 
 fluential John Elias, contended that the article was 
 simply an abridgment of one adopted many years 
 earlier, in Bala. Mr. Roberts, however, argued that 
 the words were only a partial statement of the earlier 
 article — for there was in that a distinct testimony to 
 the all-sufficiency of the atonement, even for those who 
 were not saved by means of it. This testimony had 
 been left out of the new article altogether. ' So, having 
 taken from us (he said) our old Confession in the liberal 
 article of the Church of England, this leaves us without 
 any declaration of our faith in the all-sufficiency of 
 the atonement for the whole world.' He spoke power- 
 fully and to such effect that the discussion was post- 
 poned to a following Association."* 
 
 * Abridged from a translation kindly made by the Rev. J. H. 
 Griffith. When Dr. Evans read this account of his grandfather, 
 not long before his death, he remarked : "Am I not proud of the 
 old man !" 
 
6 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 The Rev. Edward T. Evans (the father of Professor 
 Evans) was of less pronounced individuality than the 
 two grandfathers. He was of a very retiring disposition, 
 so that comparatively few were admitted to his in- 
 timacy. Those who had that privilege were much 
 charmed by his unaffected piety joined to refinement 
 and sweetness of temper. He was an indefatigable 
 student, and an earnest Evangelical preacher. He was 
 settled at Racine, Wisconsin, and at Newark, Ohio, 
 having preached also in Wales. Some of the revival 
 seasons through which his churches passed, are still 
 remembered by his associates. He died in 1881, hav- 
 ing passed his seventy-fourth birthday. 
 
 Llewelyn inherited through his mother the poetical 
 temperament of his grandfather Roberts. It was the 
 mother's custom to spend an hour daily in prayer for 
 and with her children, and this piety also early showed 
 its fruit in the son. When quite a lad, he used to 
 lead family worship. When visiting his grandfather 
 Evans, it was his custom to gather the mill hands to- 
 gether, read the Scriptures and lead them in prayer 
 before the day's work began. This early piety had, 
 however, nothing forced or unnatural about it, nor was 
 it associated with anything morbid in his disposition. 
 For his disposition was bright and sunny, and his in- 
 terest already went out towards all innocent activities. 
 Intellectually he early gave promise of his future. 
 John Davies, Esq., the Mayor of Carnarvon, writes 
 that when the family came to Bangor, in 1846, Llewelyn 
 (then in his thirteenth year) at once became a leader 
 among the boys. He was made secretary of the 
 Literary Society and also of a theological class. A 
 report made by him on a sermon he had heard on 
 " Original Sin," is still in existence. Mr. Davies also 
 alludes to the mother's influence, saying: "The family 
 
EARLY YEARS. 7 
 
 atmosphere was spiritual in every sense of the word. 
 After family devotions were over in the morning, Mrs. 
 Evans catechized the children and cautioned them as 
 to their conduct in the course of the day." 
 
 At thirteen years of age the youth was sent to Bala 
 college, where he spent three years. He at once be- 
 came prominent for his intellectual brilliancy and for 
 his physical activity. Dr. Edwards alludes to his early 
 feat of walking upon the railing of the church gallery — 
 a feat which none of his companions were willing to 
 attempt. One of his schoolmates says of hirn : 
 "Although so young, he was the most brilliant student 
 of the college. He had an insatiable thirst for knowl- 
 edge, combined with an intellect of great acuteness, 
 and a most retentive memory. His perception of truth 
 was wonderfully quick, suggestive of instinct or in- 
 tuition. And he was even then a very fluent speaker, 
 full of wit and humor, the life of every company. I 
 could not but wonder at the extent and range of his 
 reading at that early period. He seemed to be con- 
 versant with all things most worth reading in the whole 
 range of English literature." * He was of course even 
 more at home in the Welsh language. For during 
 his stay at Bala he published poems in Welsh which 
 attracted the attention of the whole principality. It is 
 said that no student ever made such an impression 
 upon both professors and pupils. This came out in a 
 humorous incident, still a part of Bala tradition. On 
 the playground, one day, young Evans, then but thir- 
 teen years of age, small for his age and very active, 
 leaped upon the back of a large lumbering student 
 named J. The general sentiment was voiced by one 
 who called out: "J ! keep that head on your shoulders 
 — as long as you keep that head you will have brains." 
 
 * Letter of G. Parry, Esq. 
 
8 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 He was called by his schoolmates "the Little Gre- 
 cian." The lady in whose house he lodged says that 
 he was so full of life that while learning his lessons 
 he would be running and cantering about the room in- 
 stead of sitting down to his books like other boys. 
 
 Three years were spent at Bala. But the boy was 
 restless, longing for a larger sphere of activity. His 
 associates still remember the enthusiasm with which he 
 turned towards this country. He frequently asserted 
 that Britain's sun was set, and that the country which 
 would control the destinies of the world was the "great 
 Republic of the West." So earnest was he in preach- 
 ing this doctrine in the family that he was really the 
 moving cause of their coming to this country. On the 
 eve of their departure from Bangor a large meeting 
 was held "where the young aspirant was presented 
 with several volumes of books, addresses were de- 
 livered, poetry recited," some of it composed for the 
 occasion. Such marked honor paid to a boy sixteen 
 years of age shows well the esteem in which he was 
 already held. Well known Welsh poets had already 
 hailed him as their comrade. 
 
 The family reached Milwaukee, Wisconsin, in Sep- 
 tember, 1850, and, soon after, the Rev. E. T. Evans 
 became pastor of the Welsh Church of Racine. The 
 son entered Racine College, receiving the degree of 
 B. S. in 1854, and that of A. B. in 1856. His intel- 
 lectual activity during these years was as marked as in 
 the old country. He was an earnest speaker on behalf 
 of temperance and the Sunday School work. He took 
 the lead in musical and literary organizations, and was 
 founder of the Welsh Literary Society in Racine. It 
 was mainly through his efforts that the Welsh National 
 Literary Association was held for the first time in the 
 West This I suppose to be the Eisteddfodd of 1856, 
 
EARLY YEARS. 9 
 
 from which one of his manuscript poems *is dated. 
 His poem on the Victory of the Cross, which took the 
 first prize in 1857, is said to be equal to anything in 
 the Welsh language. Several poems in English were 
 written during his college course, and specimens will 
 be published in the volume of Essays and Addresses 
 now in preparation. During his college course he suf- 
 fered sore bereavement in the death of his sister, to 
 whom he was tenderly attached, and within a year from 
 that event his mother also was called away. 
 
 The year of graduation from college was the year of 
 the first national campaign of the Republican party, 
 with Fremont as its candidate for the presidency. Young 
 Evans, already a well known and popular speaker, took 
 the stump on behalf of the new party. The ticket 
 was defeated in the country at large, but its orator in 
 Wisconsin was elected a member of the State legisla- 
 ture. Although the youngest member of the body, he 
 soon became one of its leading spirits, and was made 
 chairman of its important committee of education. He 
 served but one term, however, finding the climate too 
 severe for his health. Early in 1857 ne accepted an 
 appointment on the editorial staff of the Cincinnati 
 Gazette, and removed to this city. 
 
 The thought of the Christian ministry as his true 
 calling was one which came to him frequently. He 
 had been consecrated by his mother to this work at his 
 birth. But he often said to her: "dearly as I love 
 you, I can not decide to study for the ministry, unless 
 I hear the call in my own heart." Of his intellectual 
 difficulties on some points of theology, we shall hear 
 later. The conviction that the ministry was his work, 
 came strongly upon him in Cincinnati. Possibly he 
 was led to think more seriously of it by the influence of 
 Professor D. Howe Alien, long a beloved professor in 
 
10 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 Lane Seminary. It is known that before entering the 
 seminary he had at least one important interview with 
 Dr. Allen. The result was that in the Fall of 1857 
 Llewelyn Evans was enrolled as a student in Lane 
 Seminary. This was, of course, a decisive step in the 
 bearing upon his life work. 
 
 Before entering upon the history of his seminary 
 course, it may be well to speak briefly of his abandon- 
 ment of Welsh literature. As we have seen he had 
 early attained a distinguished place among his country- 
 men both here and in his native country. Besides his 
 poem on the Victory of the Cross, he published one 
 on Time, one entitled A Pastoral Song, and one on 
 Martyrdom. The last named took the first prize at the 
 Utica Eisteddfodd. These received high praise from 
 the most competent critics. The judge to whom the 
 poems competing at one Eisteddfodd were sent for ad- 
 judication — himself a poet of high reputation — said : 
 "the poets of the old country must look to their 
 laurels." Another critic praised highly the " originality, 
 profundity, scholarship, taste and beauty " of Dr. 
 Evans' poem. Dr. Evans' Welsh prose was also 
 highly appreciated. His essay on the ' ' Value of Ed- 
 ucation," which first appeared in this country, was 
 republished in Wales, where it attracted wide attention. 
 The editor who introduced it there thought it probably 
 not altogether to the taste of his readers, because too 
 original. He advised his readers, therefore, "if they 
 find it too American, to read it a second time," and 
 they will find its good points. He finds in it the 
 "union of philosopher and poet," as well as "the 
 fiery zeal of a young writer following his subject to its 
 logical conclusion." Other contributions of Dr. Evans 
 to Welsh newspapers and magazines are remembered 
 as characterized by life and freshness. 
 
EARLY YEARS. II 
 
 After the publication of the poem on the Victory of 
 the Cross, the author was attacked by an unsuccessful 
 competitor, and, later, an extended criticism of the 
 poem appeared signed "Lover of Poetry." The 
 charge against the author was that he plagiarized from 
 Milton. The poem was criticized for its alleged faults 
 of metre and violations of good taste. In the year 
 1858, Dr. Evans published a pamphlet reply to these 
 critics entitled "Crach Feirniadeath, " or "Sham Crit- 
 icism." In this he not only defends himself against 
 the charges made, but expounds at length the princi- 
 ples of criticism and of literary composition, the laws 
 of verse and the nature of plagiarism. That the de- 
 fense was successful may be inferred from the fact that 
 no rejoinder was made. The incident is of especial 
 interest to us here, because it was the occasion of the 
 author's giving up Welsh literature. The pamphlet 
 concluded with a farewell to the Welsh muse, which 
 gives us a vivid perception of the writer's state of feel- 
 ing, and which I therefore quote at length.* 
 
 "But, in conclusion, I have allowed myself to write 
 more at length than I would have written had I not 
 resolved that this shall be my last contest on the field 
 of Welsh literature. Let Lover of Poetry, with his 
 Falstaffian host, take notice that I am determined to 
 wage this one through to the bitter end; but ever after- 
 ward I will let Welsh ' lovers of poetry ' alone. I have 
 always been proud that I was a Welshman, and I shall 
 continue to be so as long as there is a drop of Welsh 
 blood in my veins. I never permitted a proper oppor- 
 tunity to pass without doing what I could to exalt my 
 countrymen, everywhere and in every kind of assembly, 
 as hundreds of citizens in the West can testify. I had 
 a dream once that I might possibly be of some service 
 
 * The translation was kindly sent me by G. H. Humphrey, 
 Esq., of Utica, N. Y. 
 
12 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 to the literature and to the advancement of my country- 
 men. 
 
 '%But earth has bubbles as the water hath, 
 And this was of them.' 
 
 That dream has vanished. It may be that after some 
 centuries have elapsed it will be easier for men of sim- 
 ilar aspirations to realize such dreams than it now is. 
 But, unfortunately, there are too many * Lovers of 
 Poetry,' of 'Leading Men of Our Nation' and of 
 'Unprejudiced Men,' among the Welsh people of 
 to-day. The knowledge of these persons is immense! 
 Their taste is worthy of Apollo ! Their judgment 
 worthy of Longinus ! Their politeness worthy of Ches- 
 terfield ! Their veracity worthy of Washington ! And 
 their sentence worthy of Rhadamanthus himself! There 
 is no higher court in the Welsh world to appeal to, and 
 this has found me guilty. I sink into the nonentity that 
 becomes me. I will retire and make room for others 
 worthier of their favor. Let no one mistake my mo- 
 tive. I know that life is a battle, and that it is unmanly 
 to succumb before obstacles and opposition. But I 
 hope in the name of Reason that there are worthier 
 things to fight against than carping pigmies, sham 
 critics, sham literates, sham grammarians, sham poets 
 and sham preachers, with the hordes of Blockheadism 
 and Stupidity behind them — against which it is said 
 even the gods are powerless. ' In our wide world there 
 is but one altogether fatal personage — the Dunce!' says 
 Carlyle. But as Swift says : 
 
 ' On me when dunces are satiric 
 I take it for a panegyric ; 
 Hated by fools, and fools to hate, 
 Be that my motto and my fate.' 
 
 " If obscurity and nonentity are my place, let me be 
 consigned to them by men who know what poetry is. 
 If I am a plagiarist I appeal to a public which knows 
 what that means, and to a people that will at least do 
 justice. I leave my Welsh compositions to their fate. I 
 authorize ' Lover of Poetry ' and his army of ' Famous 
 Men ' and ' Leading Men ' to collect them, cast them 
 
EARLY YEARS. I 3 
 
 into the fire, scatter them to the four winds of heaven 
 and destroy them from the land of the living. But let 
 them do their worst — they can not take away the hap- 
 piness of the hours in which they were composed. 
 They can not deprive me of the joy with which I wel- 
 comed the visit of these visions to the chamber of my 
 mind — 
 
 ' That turned me cold 
 
 And pale and voiceless, leaving in the brain 
 
 A rocking and a ringing glorious.' 
 
 They never can dry up some tears that are treasured in 
 the bottle of the muse — 
 
 ' Such glorious tears as Eve's fair daughters shed, 
 When first they clasped a son of God all bright, 
 With burning plumes and splendors of the sky, 
 In zoning heaven of their milky arms.' 
 
 "Fare thee well, Welsh Muse! Muse of my mother's 
 tongue! We have spent some sweet hours together — 
 may they be sacred in the cemetery of the past. My mind 
 wanders there in the night watches. A tear drops on their 
 graves, welling up with the groan from a disappointed 
 heart* My soul holds yearning mute communion with 
 their spirits in the divine light of the stars. A blessing 
 upon thee, venerable Muse of Wales! In thy departure 
 from me go and visit others. Solace them with a solace 
 greater than that which thou didst pour into my heart. 
 Teach them to sing thy mysteries better than I learned 
 to sing them. May their hopes not be blasted by a 
 cold and cruel blast from any quarter ! May their good 
 name not be tarnished by the foul breath of slander and 
 libel ! May their hearts not be pierced by the stabs ot 
 envy ! Never, never, may they be dragged without 
 cause and against their will into disputes that will embit- 
 ter their souls, and send their good angel far away from 
 them ! Never may the inviolability of their word be 
 questioned ! Never may their motives in yielding to 
 thine inspiration be suspected ! Never may they be 
 disappointed by false friends, and may their confidence 
 
 * Literally, "A tear is shaken on the graves by the groan 
 (sigh) from a disappointed heart." 
 
14 LLEWELYN 10 AN EVANS. 
 
 in men never be shaken ! Never may their sincere de- 
 sire to serve thee be considered a crime ! Success be 
 upon all they do and say ! May their words fall into the 
 hearts of men as wine goes into the lips of him that is 
 ready to perish ! May they become household words ! 
 May they be taught by the mother to her child ! May 
 they be whispered by the youth to his beloved ! May 
 they lighten the heart of the sad, make serious the 
 mirth of the merry, and lead to beauty, virtue and hap- 
 piness ! May their life be like a sunny day, and their 
 departure like a cloudless sunset! May their path lie 
 among flowers and roses and not among thorns and 
 briers ! May their names be blessed, may they be trans- 
 mitted from father to son throughout the generations 
 of Gomer's race, and may they be embalmed forever in 
 the memory of a grateful nation! Fare thee well, an- 
 cient muse of my Fathers ! Not without tears — once 
 and forever: Farewell !" 
 
 It is not difficult to read between the lines here. 
 The young poet had been stung by the nature of the 
 polemic waged against him. Full of the highest as- 
 pirations, the warmest devotion to literature, he had 
 found himself misunderstood and misjudged. He came 
 to the quick resolve to abandon so ungrateful a soil. 
 His powers might be employed where they would re- 
 sult in more than criticism and quarrel. He would 
 turn to that larger field. But this resolution was occa- 
 sioned, not caused, by the immediate situation. Young 
 Evans had been early impressed by the greatness of this 
 country. He had now become acquainted with its 
 opportunities, and had determined where his own work 
 lay. The one thing he was to do stood out clearly be- 
 fore him. The painful experience with his critics prob- 
 ably crystallized an already forming resolution. That 
 resolution was to turn from the many interests which 
 had claimed him in the past in order to devote himself 
 more thoroughly to his direct mission. That he was a 
 favorite not only of the Welsh muse, but also of her 
 
EARLY YEARS. 15 
 
 English sister, is evident from the following — one of 
 his poems from his college course: 
 
 JUNE. 
 
 Come Juno of the year and Goddess-Queen, 
 Walking with regal pride the months between, 
 Beclothed in thronal robes of darkest green, 
 
 That fall behind like clouds auroral flowing ; 
 Of deeper beauty, ripelier blown than May, 
 Nor bronzed like August by the scorching ray, 
 Nor crimsoned by the kiss of Winter gray 
 
 But deep with life's intensest splendor glowing! 
 
 Come sweeping through the great Olympian hall, 
 'Mong its majestic forest pillars tall 
 Trailing behind thine ample-spreading pall, 
 
 With brightest leaves and flowers interwoven. 
 Raining thy smiles of most maternal love 
 On the divinities of vale and grove, 
 Whose eyes like glimpses of the blue above, 
 
 Sparkle among the leaves by breezes moven. 
 
 I love thee, June, whene'er thou walkest forth, 
 For it was thou, who ushered in my birth ; 
 'Twas in thy smile I first beheld the earth, 
 
 In thy hand took the infant steps of being ! 
 And once, in age and gladsomeness a boy, 
 Alas that Time should both so soon destroy! 
 I looked upon thee with a face all joy, 
 
 And only felt delight thy presence seeing. 
 
 I read no sorrow in thy tender eye, 
 
 No shade of sadness on thy brow did lie: 
 
 I laughed upon thee with the jollity 
 
 Of a child fondled by his mother dear 
 And playing with the tresses of her hair, 
 And clinging to her lips with loving air ; 
 Thus once did I hang on thy face so fair, 
 
 And nestle in thy bosom without fear. 
 
 Thus was it once ; but, ah ! 'tis thus no more ! 
 
 I love thee still but with a bosom sore, 
 
 And thou, methinks, seemst sadder than of yore, 
 
 Thy beauty and thy smiles seem touched with sorrow. 
 Thy comings unto me have been of late, 
 Dark visitations of a cruel fate 
 For death did hither on thy footsteps wait, 
 
 And chill me with eternity's cold shadow. 
 
 Thrice hast thou come and gone — like yesterday, 
 It seems — since thou my sister bore away ; 
 My only sister — more I can not say. 
 
 My being's half was gone : I had no other. 
 
1 6 LLEWELYN 10 AN EVANS. 
 
 Yet, still, one joy remained, and heaven I blest, 
 One spot there was where my sad heart might rest, 
 And there I flew like birdling to its nest, 
 I had a home, for still I had a mother. 
 
 But now she too is gone with thee, and I — 
 My nest is scattered — whither shall I fly ? 
 The scathing bolt has fallen from on high, 
 
 Has struck and caused my bowery home to wither. 
 My leafy joys have tripped away and now 
 I stand upon the stripped and blackened bough, 
 And shudder in the chilling winds that blow, 
 
 And fain would weakly fly away— but whither ? 
 
 E'en now a blast cold as the grave doth come, 
 
 And whisper like a wail of death from some 
 
 Lone mocking demon : ' Wretch ! thou hast no home ! ' 
 
 No home! What echoes of despair awaken! 
 No sister's answering glance of feelingness ! 
 No mother's all-in-all of lovingness, 
 Nor endless forms of winningness ! 
 
 I have no home ! "lis desolate, forsaken. 
 
 Yet June, I love thee still, for thou dost seem 
 Full of divinest pities which do gleam 
 Within thy glances as in childhood's dream 
 
 Those that- around the dying Jesus hover, 
 And with thy'heaven-sent dewy calms would heal 
 The creeping blight that o'er my heart doth steal, 
 And in thine azure eye of love reveal 
 
 A full infinite heaven bending over. 
 
 These verses are dated June 27, 1855, the author's 
 twenty-second birthday. They give us a glimpse into 
 the wealth of feeling in his heart, and show the sober- 
 ing effect of recent afflictions. As his life-work became 
 more absorbing he paid less attention to poetry, though 
 occasionally throughout life the old fire would break 
 forth. 
 
II. 
 
 THEOLOGY AND PREACHING. 
 
 Lane Seminary, founded nearly thirty years before 
 this time, was in 1857 manned by three professors of 
 distinguished ability and scholarship. Of these the 
 first in influence was Dr. D. Howe Allen, then occu- 
 pying the chair of systematic theology. Dr. Allen 
 was especially attractive to young men by his sympa- 
 thetic insight into the experiences of the heart. He 
 became the confidential friend and adviser of those he 
 taught, and his pupils remember him as a living rep- 
 resentative of the beloved disciple. It was a help to 
 Llewelyn Evans to come into association with such a 
 man at this time, for like all young men who think, he 
 had his time of " storm and stress." It was a con- 
 ference in which he had laid before Dr. Allen his 
 difficulties in theology which decided him to enter the 
 seminary, and it is known that later they discussed 
 privately the problems more formally treated in the 
 class room. Near the opening of his second seminary 
 year (Aug. 19, 1858) he wrote at some length to a 
 friend in Wales, who has kindly furnished in transla- 
 tion the following extract, descriptive of his state of 
 mind. 
 
 "Somehow, the time has slipped away, and on look- 
 ing back I fail to conceive what I have been doing. 
 At the time however, when we are not conscious of 
 
 (17) 
 
1 8 LLEWEYLYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 what is doing, we are sometimes undergoing the great- 
 est changes, and are passing through a crisis in our lives. 
 So the last two months have been, in some respects, 
 an important period in my life, and as I have com- 
 menced lifting the veil from some of the mysteries of 
 my internal life, I feel an inclination to proceed with 
 that work. At the close of my first term in the 
 seminary, it was natural for me to examine myself and 
 look around to see to what point the past had brought 
 me, and in what direction I was drifting towards the 
 future. I took an important step when I joined the 
 seminary. I have through that proclaimed my desire 
 and determination to serve my fellow men by instruct- 
 ing them in the truth — and that, as the truth is under- 
 stood and explained by orthodox churches. In this 
 desire and determination I am, so far as I know myself, 
 perfectly sincere. But it is necessary for me here to 
 state that my own personal notions respecting several 
 theological points are very unsettled. Since I began 
 to think for myself I have had some doubts respecting 
 some of the doctrines of the Old Body [Welsh Cal- 
 vinistic Church]. I do not know whether there is any- 
 thing in the atmosphere of this country more favorable 
 to the spirit of doubt than in the stationary atmosphere 
 of the Old Country or not. It is certain that it flour- 
 ishes more generally here as regards everything — es- 
 pecially religious truth. And once that spirit begins 
 to work in the mind, it will not rest until it tests even 
 the old dear truths which appeared so beautiful and 
 natural to us when we were children. And while 
 this spirit exists it is not possible for man to believe 
 the truth with such living faith as is worthy of the 
 truth — faith that takes hold of it, that embraces it and 
 is wedded to it. And this is the only faith to which 
 my soul can be reconciled. It is not sufficient for me 
 that a truth fills some niche in the building — that it is 
 serviceable as a sort of logical fiction to hold the system 
 together. I have not much faith in a system at all. 
 That which I believe must commend itself to my belief 
 as a truth alive in itself — as something that fills a 
 want in my own soul — not some metaphysical vacuum 
 
THEOLOGY AND PREACHING. I 9 
 
 in my intellect. I have therefore resolved that I will 
 not accept anything as truth save that which I can en- 
 tij-ely believe ; because it is better for a man to have 
 real faith in one truth than to give some sort of soulless 
 assent to a hundred truths. As a result I had thrown 
 aside one theological opinion after another, until my 
 faith had been reduced to a minimum. Through God's 
 mercy, some truths remained as objects of my faith, 
 and these I have as foundation stones on which I am 
 able to build some sort of positive belief. That is to 
 be my work for the coming year, and I intend taking 
 to it in a spirit free and open to the truth, expecting 
 the blessing of the God of truth upon my labors. 
 
 "I do not reject anything because it is a mystery. 
 Just the reverse— I can not imagine how any one who 
 has earnestly thought on it can help perceiving that 
 every truth has its mystery, just as every substance has 
 its shadow. But I do not know how to receive any- 
 thing that is repugnant to the laws of my soul and the 
 conditions of its working. I can not falsify myself 
 without losing faith in everything. If I succeed, there- 
 fore, in reconciling what are now called orthodox doc- 
 trines with those laws to which they now appear con- 
 tradictory, my path is clear before me, and my 
 determination remains immovable. If I fail, I can not 
 pretend to a faith which I do not possess ; and it will 
 be necessary for me to turn my face again to literature, 
 and serve the world in other ways. I resolve at any 
 rate to be a free man, and not to undertake anything 
 that will not allow me to speak out my mind on any 
 subject. Some of my friends, who are in a measure 
 aware of my opinions and resolutions, urge me to strike 
 out and become independent of all other religious de- 
 nominations. But, as for myself, I feel that if it is not 
 possible for me to be an orthodox preacher (as it is 
 called), it is better for me not to be one at all, and that 
 I can do more good in other circles. This is the sum- 
 mary of my meditations and resolutions during the past 
 two months. My destiny will be fixed during the next 
 nine months. Whatever it may be, I trust it may be 
 acceptable to my Heavenly Father, and consistent both 
 
20 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 with my self-respect and with the dictates of my con- 
 science." 
 
 It can not be doubted that such a statement, made to 
 an intimate friend in a private letter, unveils the heart 
 of the writer. And the heart "thus unveiled commands 
 our interest by the honesty of its purpose. The writer 
 is determined, first of all, to be true to himself. He 
 will accept no statement of truth except as he finds it 
 true. He enters upon investigation with the desire to 
 know the truth. But while he will carry with him no 
 prejudice for the old because it is old, he yet sees that 
 religious power is with the truth as generally held by 
 the Evangelical churches. He has no desire to be a 
 free lance in theology, or to become the leader of a new 
 school of thought. He will give existing churches the 
 benefit of his work or he will turn to something else 
 than preaching. The fact that he completed his semi- 
 nary course and entered upon the ministry is proof 
 sufficient that his inquiries gave him evidence of the 
 agreement of orthodox doctrine with those laws of our 
 own mind, which we can not ignore without giving up 
 our prerogative as rational beings. And while we ac- 
 cept this conclusion we must recognize in the letter just 
 quoted, that the purpose expressed is based on a sincere 
 religious faith. The young theological student avows 
 his desire and determination to instruct his fellow-men 
 in the truth. He expects the blessing of the God of 
 truth upon his labors. He has a high idea of the value 
 of the truth as held by the so-called orthodox churches. 
 He looks for the blessing of the Heavenly Father upon 
 his efforts to ascertain the truth. In all these expres- 
 sions we see the religious faith at the foundation of his 
 being. It was with an earnest consecration that he pur- 
 sued his studies and looked forward to the great work 
 of instructing his fellow-men. But it is worth noticing 
 
THEOLOGY AND PREACHING. 21 
 
 that even thus early he claims for himself the liberty of 
 a free man, and resolves not to undertake anything that 
 will not allow him to speak out his mind on any sub- 
 ject. For this shows us the understanding with which 
 he entered the Presbyterian ministry. Minds of such 
 originality as his, are not apt to accept a system ver- 
 batim et literatim. He already avows his distrust of a 
 system as a system. He could not suppose that in 
 adopting a system of doctrine he gave up the liberty 
 which he so strenuously claims at the very outset of 
 his studies. Had the New School Church in examining 
 him for ordination insisted upon the rigid terms lately 
 urged in the united church, it would have deprived 
 itself of the services of one of the most exemplary, 
 earnest and consecrated (as well as one of the most 
 scholarly and brilliant) men that ever entered upon its 
 ministry. These remarks are made with no polemic pur- 
 pose, but for the light they shed upon the closing years 
 of Professor Evans' life. 
 
 The spirit with which the young student entered on 
 his work, may, perhaps, be gathered from a sermon 
 (preserved in outline) on the text: "Unto me who am 
 less than the least of all saints was this grace given to 
 preach the unsearchable riches of Christ." In the in- 
 troduction to this sermon he says: "There never lived 
 a minister of the truth who so magnified his calling as 
 the Apostle Paul. It is exceedingly interesting in 
 reading to observe the glowing satisfaction, the joy, 
 the enthusiasm, with which [he views it]. Every- 
 where we see beaming forth the conviction that he 
 had found a work in which all his mighty energies 
 might expatiate. And there is nothing which fills the 
 soul with such joy, as the possession of a work which 
 summons to its performance the highest and best in a 
 man Such a work had Paul found — 
 
22 LLEWELYN 10 AN EVANS. 
 
 to preach the unsearchable riches of Christ.''' At a later 
 date he expressed again his conviction of the import- 
 ance of the ministry of the Gospel in these words: 
 "Thought shivering in the Arctic winter night of un- 
 belief; Life pining on the barren banks of secularism; 
 Society festering in a corrupt pool of sensationalism ; 
 Agnosticism turning its back to the sun, refusing to 
 see anything but the blackness of its own shadow; 
 Materialism substituting the dance of atoms for the 
 processes of omnipotence, and reading its destiny in 
 the dust of death, and not in immortal progression — 
 what is the cure for all this? Only in men who know 
 God with a knowledge that is power and life. The 
 world is hungry for God, and is dying for the want of 
 the spirit of truth and love. Be it yours to give God 
 to men, to bring men to God ; straight to God from 
 everything, straight from God to everything, face to 
 face with God in everything. We commend you not 
 to any theory of God, not to any hypothesis about 
 God, but to God himself — God as pith of every 
 thought, God as nerve of every purpose, God as wing 
 of every word, God as spring of every action, God as 
 care of every conscience, pole of every heart, goal of 
 every life. Be God all your end, all your existence. 
 To this God we commend you." These eloquent 
 words show how the writer's early conviction of the 
 importance of instructing his fellow-men in religious 
 truth had ripened. It had in fact become a passion. 
 The truth of God as it is in Jesus- Christ had taken 
 full possession of his soul. But it was already there 
 in the early time when he was not certain that he 
 should be able to accept the forms in which the truth 
 is accepted by the orthodox churches. For even then 
 he saw the essential qualities of Gospel faith and its 
 adaptation to the needs of men. 
 
THEOLOGY AND PREACHING. 23 
 
 Mr. Evans entered the seminary a few weeks after 
 the opening of the term. His classmates remember 
 him as at first somewhat reserved. The reserve was 
 increased in appearance by the fact that he was an en- 
 tire stranger, while most of the students, coming from 
 colleges already represented in the seminary, found old 
 acquaintances among their fellow-students. It was not 
 long, however, before the stranger was recognized as a 
 brilliant student as well as a warm and genial friend. 
 One of his classmates * writes : ' ' Llewelyn Evans was 
 not a young man to push an acquaintance. Yet there 
 was even then [at the first] a magnetic influence about 
 him to command attention, and one would inquire of 
 another who that was that went trotting around with a 
 head like Moses' bush. But it was not long until he 
 led us to look at him in a different light. It was, I 
 think, after his first topical discussion before the class 
 which came out bristling with sharp points and was 
 read with lightning-like rapidity, that the ever ready 
 Joe Little whispered something in my ear about Mer- 
 curius having come down to join our class. From 
 that time there was, I think, no difference of opinion 
 as to who was at the head of the class in ability and 
 scholarship. He was not only honored, but beloved 
 by all his classmates." Another classmate f emphasizes 
 especially his helpfulness and sympathy. This gentle- 
 man, writing of differences of view among the students 
 on the subject of slavery, says: "He saw I needed 
 sympathy. He came to my help. He did not see as 
 I did, but he thought he saw me standing for a prin- 
 ciple. And whether it was right or wrong for my 
 church to press the principle to the extent it did, he 
 conceived it to be my right to hold that view* And 
 
 * The Rev. J. P. Williamson. 
 f The Rev. A. T. Rankin, D.D. 
 
24 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 these differences of view and of denomination made no 
 difference as to our friendship. He was indebted to 
 me for a few lessons in Hebrew ; but I to him for the 
 influence of a maturer mind, a stronger intellect, keener 
 perceptive faculties and riper scholarship ; withal a 
 loving heart that repaid me a thousand-fold in less than 
 
 a week He had that indefinable something which 
 
 gives ease to a child in presence of, and converse with, 
 a man. That great mind of his did not come down 
 upon you with the weight of its treasures to crush you, 
 or to frighten you with its flashes of light — but to en- 
 courage you, to cheer you, to give you ease and to 
 draw something from you ; leaving you with the feeling : 
 ' It is more blessed to give than to receive.' Though 
 you received abundance from him, he left you as God 
 left Jacob — feeling very good at giving a tithe back. 
 Right there was Evans' power. It was that large 
 sympathy that put his mind into your mind and mingled 
 his thoughts with your thoughts so that you never drew 
 the line, but had all things in common, The man 
 with a narrow lot has as good a view as the one with 
 broad acres if the line fences have never been built. . . . 
 I have questioned many of the graduates and they all 
 seem to have had more in common with Evans than 
 with any teacher in college or seminary. So you find 
 it was with his classmates. There were fifteen of us. 
 He outranked us all, but touched the envy of none."* 
 The characteristics of the man as here portrayed are 
 the same everywhere emphasized by his friends. One 
 of his earliest friends says : " I may briefly say that I 
 consider it one of the greatest privileges of my life to 
 have enjoyed his friendship for twenty-two years. As 
 a man, I found him full of poetic genius, of great re- 
 
 * Address delivered at the Lane Seminary Club on the Life of 
 Dr. Evans. 
 
THEOLOGY AND PREACHING. 2$ 
 
 source and sound learning, of refined and sensitive 
 nature, modest even to a fault. As a Christian he was 
 one of the most simple, childlike and Christlike I have 
 ever known. His prayers, while couched in the choicest 
 language, breathed a childlike simplicity and faith 
 which bespoke a spirit in close communion with his 
 Heavenly Father. As a friend, though naturally re- 
 served and not always easy of access, when once his 
 confidence was thoroughly won, he was perfectly re- 
 liable, and would gradually, like the dawn of day 
 spreading over the horizon, yield a wealth of intellec- 
 tual, social, and spiritual pleasure to those permitted to 
 enjoy it, seldom found in this imperfect world." Those 
 who knew Dr. Evans will appreciate the justness of this 
 description. To those who knew him not, it may 
 faintly outline v/hat he was to those who were admitted 
 to his friendship. And what he was in after life, he 
 was already as a student. His character was made 
 broader and richer by the experience of years. But 
 the foundations were there in the early time. 
 
 With deep and earnest piety, high intellectual qualifi- 
 cations, and broad and thorough scholarship, was united 
 intense, practical interest in every good work. The the- 
 ological student took an active part in city mission work. 
 He was helpful in the Young Men's Christian Associa- 
 tion, and assisted in the Union Bethel, besides aiding in 
 the organization of the Pilgrim Mission. In the latter 
 part of his course he was often invited to preach in the 
 Lane Seminary Church. The church was organized in 
 connection with the Seminary, but at this time its mem- 
 bership consisted largely of persons not connected with 
 the Seminary. At the close of his Seminary course 
 (i860) Dr. Evans was called to the pastorate of this 
 church, and served it for three years. He had declined 
 a call to the Presbyterian church of Newport, Ky. 
 
26 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 What Dr. Evans was as a preacher and pastor, only 
 those can know who had the privilege of being mem- 
 bers of his charge. He had the highest qualifications 
 for both offices. His burning rhetoric may be faintly 
 realized from his printed discourses. For, after all, the 
 living voice is necessary to render the full effect of such 
 addresses. No one who heard him at this time will 
 ever forget the impassioned wealth of his language, 
 poured forth with an ardor that made the listener hold 
 his breath as he tried to follow. The "lightning-like 
 rapidity of his delivery," of which one of his classmates 
 has spoken, was the natural expression of a soul on fire 
 with zeal for the truth. As time went on he was com- 
 pelled to moderate the speed with which he spoke, be- 
 cause physically it was too exhausting. But to those 
 who heard him in the earlier time, it was a keen de- 
 light to follow this outpouring of thoughts that breathed 
 in words that burned. It is related of him that when 
 he preached his first sermon before the class, some of 
 the students were disposed to criticize. But the Pro- 
 fessor of Sacred Rhetoric, Dr. Henry Smith, one of 
 the first of American preachers, said: "Young gentle- 
 men, there is no criticism to be made on that sermon." 
 Those who knew the height of Dr. Smith's ideal and 
 the reserve of his utterance, will find that sentence 
 higher praise than the laudation of thousands. As for 
 his pastoral qualifications, we have already seen the 
 sympathy of his nature, one of the first essentials to 
 true pastoral efficiency. His ideal is well set before us 
 by himself in a sermon commemorative of his beloved 
 friend Dr. O. A. Lyman.* "The life of Christ's true 
 servant is a life in earnest, a life of earnest striving, of 
 soldierly courage, patience and perseverance. It is a 
 
 * Preached in the Euclid Avenue Church, Cleveland, 
 March, 1872. 
 
THEOLOGY AND PREACHING. 2J 
 
 life of faithful adherence to the line of duty enjoined by 
 conscience. It is a life of power, a power born of earn- 
 estness and fidelity, a power with which Christ himself 
 invests his servant, a power which in its measure over- 
 comes the power of evil in the world, a power which all 
 recognize as the power of holiness, of truth, of Christ. 
 It is a spiritual force, charged with electric energy to 
 wither corruption, to blast error, to shiver wrong, to 
 startle consciences, to quicken souls, to inspire Christian 
 manhood. It is a life which to live is to be a king of 
 men, a royal shepherd of souls, a spiritual leader, wisely 
 guiding, strongly drawing men after himself. It is no 
 less a life of quiet, gentle beauty, winning, persuasive, 
 pure as one of heaven's glistening gems, shedding in its 
 serene light a holy benediction, a life such as that 
 mediaeval saint must have lived whose name won for 
 itself the addition "Mild as the evening star." Or it 
 is a life which wears on its brow the morning star, full 
 of glad promise, its pure radiance preluding the heav- 
 enly dawn, a morning Evangel of that holy light which 
 shineth more and more unto the perfect day. It is a 
 life which breathes hope and joy, the courage of princi- 
 ple, the enthusiasm of duty, the magnetic might of 
 faith. It is a life, in fine, in which the power of Christ is 
 felt to be working, on which the glory of Christ is seen 
 to be resting, through which the sceptre of Christ is 
 reaching forth to rule the world, to sway its thoughts 
 and convictions and character, by which the cross of 
 Christ is uplifted and glorified to the healing of earth's 
 maladies, out of which the spirit of Christ goes forth 
 with divine creative and assimilative energy, a life — 
 
 Where only Christ is heard to speak, 
 Where Jesus reigns alone." 
 
28 LLEWELYN 10 AN EVANS. 
 
 The thought so eloquently expressed here is that the 
 minister preaches the truth by embodying the truth in 
 his life, bringing it home to his people in his social in- 
 tercourse as in the pulpit. 
 
 Dr. Evans' social qualities, and especially the wit and 
 humor which enlivened every circle in which he moved, 
 will claim our attention later. Just now I wish to no- 
 tice the fact that his service of the Lane Seminary 
 Church came at the time when the nation was called 
 upon to undertake the war for the Union. Dr. Evans' 
 sympathies were altogether on the side of the Union. 
 His heart, like that of every patriot, urged him to enter 
 the army. But men were needed at home as well as at 
 the front, and he saw that great interests would be sacri- 
 ficed were he to abandon the post in which Providence 
 had placed him. In 1861 (October) he was offered the 
 chaplaincy of the eighteenth regiment, then recruiting 
 at Columbus. The offer was a tempting one. But there 
 were many things to be considered. His position as pas- 
 tor was important to a growing church ; at the same 
 time he was already a help to the seminary, which 
 needed all the resources within its reach. In fact, not 
 long after this time he began to deliver lectures to the 
 students of the seminary. It should be noted that the 
 pecuniary compensation of the chaplaincy was consider- 
 ably above what he was receiving as pastor. We can 
 realize how youthful ardor, public opinion, the needs of 
 the country, the good of the soldier, would plead for 
 the army. But after careful consideration he declined 
 the call. There was work to be done at home. In this 
 exciting period Dr. Evans was foremost among those 
 who sustained the courage of the people. In the dark- 
 est hours he never lost heart. His faith saw that the 
 outcome was certain, though it might be at the cost of 
 struggle and suffering. Every movement for the good 
 
THEOLOGY AND PREACHING. 20, 
 
 of the soldier had his hearty support. As he was not 
 able to give largely from his salary, he delivered lectures, 
 the proceeds of which went to the Christian Commis- 
 sion. The chief of these (on John Milton, the patriot,) 
 is still remembered as a masterpiece. In general, it 
 may be said here, few men have been less moved by 
 pecuniary considerations than was our friend. He fre- 
 quently declined invitations that would have given him 
 an income more adequate to the wants of a cultivated 
 man and a student, than the one he actually received. 
 His salary, when called to a professorship in the semi- 
 nary, was one thousand dollars per annum. Although 
 doing the full work of a professor (and often more than 
 that) he did not receive the same salary with other 
 members of the faculty until 1874. The reason for this 
 was the financial need of the institution. It is men- 
 tioned here not as a reproach to the institution, which, 
 of course, was obliged to live on what it had, but as 
 showing the unselfishness of the man. This unselfish- 
 ness showed itself constantly in his readiness to help 
 enterprises which could not give adequate compensation 
 for service rendered. His lectures were always deliv- 
 ered for the benefit of some good cause. He preached 
 much (after entering upon his work as professor) for 
 small or recently organized churches, and took much 
 interest in their growth. For many years prior to the 
 annexation of the village of Walnut Hills to the city of 
 Cincinnati, he was a member of the Board of Public 
 Schools, and served with great efficiency as their clerk 
 and examiner. But this is anticipating. 
 
 In 1863 Mr. Evans was elected Professor of Church 
 History in Lane Seminary. He had given lectures in 
 that department some time before, in connection with 
 his pastoral work. Dr. Smith had been called to a 
 charge in Buffalo, so that the seminary was inadequately 
 
30 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 manned, even in comparison with what it had been. 
 This chair Dr. Evans filled with great acceptance, and 
 his brilliant lectures are still remembered by some of 
 the people of Walnut Hills who were permitted to hear 
 them. It was soon after his appointment that the New 
 School General Assembly met at Dayton, Ohio (1864). 
 Dr. Evans was not a member of the Assembly, but was 
 an interested spectator. Sunday evening after the open- 
 ing of the Assembly Dr. Howard Crosby preached a 
 sermon on the text : ' l Blessed are they that do his com- 
 mandments, that they may have right to the tree of 
 life, and may enter in through the gates into the city." 
 This sermon made a profound impression upon all who 
 heard it, among whom was the young professor. Un- 
 der its inspiration he prepared an address on John Cal- 
 vin which made him widely known in the New School 
 body. The occasion was on this wise: the General 
 Assembly resolved to observe the Tercentenary of the 
 death of Calvin, which came during its sessions. Dr. 
 Allen was appointed one of the speakers. But being 
 prevented from taking part, he had Professor Evans 
 appointed in his place. That the Professor (then not 
 thirty-one) was comparatively unknown in the denomi- 
 nation may be judged from the fact that the committee 
 announced him as "a professor in Lane Seminary," 
 while they did not find it necessary to describe any of 
 the other speakers. After the address, which was in 
 the Professor's most brilliant vein, it is safe to say that 
 the speaker was no longer unknown. He may be said 
 to have won his spurs on this occasion. Henceforth his 
 friends had a right to number him among the leaders of 
 his denomination. 
 
III. 
 
 EXEGESIS. 
 
 In the year 1867 the chair of Biblical Literature be- 
 came vacant, and Dr. Evans was transferred to that 
 department, having already given some instruction in 
 it. This was to be his life work. For some years he 
 had both the Old and New Testament work. In 187 1 
 the chair was divided, and Dr. Evans took the division 
 of Hebrew and Old Testament Exegesis, the New Testa- 
 ment being placed in the hands of the Rev. Dr. Thomas 
 E. Thomas. At the death of Dr. Thomas (1875), Dr. 
 Evans was transferred to the New Testament depart- 
 ment, which he retained until his death. For just a 
 quarter of a century, therefore, he was allowed to de- 
 vote his energies to the study and exposition of the 
 Word of God. In this work he showed the same self- 
 denying zeal which had characterized his earlier career. 
 Repeatedly he assumed extra work and cheerfully per- 
 formed it, even at the cost of cherished plans of his 
 own. Thus during Dr. Thomas' illness and for some 
 months after his death he carried the work of both 
 chairs. When I became Instructor in Hebrew Dr. 
 Evans carried the advanced work in both languages. 
 After the death of Dr. Smith he took a part of the 
 homiletical work, and similarly in the case of Dr. Hum- 
 phrey and Dr. Eells. 
 
 (3i) 
 
32 LLEWELYN 10 AN EVANS. 
 
 Probably there have been few better instructors in 
 Biblical learning. Professor Evans had had no advant- 
 ages for special study. But he had a taste for research, 
 fine linguistic talents, a deep love for spiritual truth, 
 enthusiasm for literature, and sympathy with inquiring 
 minds. By his own almost unaided exertions he ac- 
 quired an extensive knowledge of German thought. 
 He followed the course of theological inquiry with 
 keen interest. Having made Greek and Hebrew his 
 special objects of study, he was indefatigable in work- 
 ing out their problems. Pie was never satisfied with a 
 single commentator's solution of a difficulty, nor even 
 with the consensus of the scholars. He could rest with 
 nothing short of all the light that could be had, and for 
 this light he searched not only the commentaries, but 
 the lexicons, the versions, the parallel passages. It 
 was, perhaps, his experience in searching out the deep 
 things of God that led to his talk on "the Preacher as 
 a Seeker or Inquirer," of which an outline is still pre- 
 served. The theme is introduced by the remark of a 
 minister: "I am always sure of one anxious inquirer: 
 If there be none in the pews I know of one in the pul- 
 pit." To this Dr. Evans adds: "The preacher is or 
 should be in a high and important sense an inquirer." 
 He then points out that the term inquirer has a correl- 
 ative. The seeker seeks something, an object is 
 before him, and this in the case of the preacher is: 
 that knowledge or experience of Christian truth which 
 leads to complete Christian manhood. He then dis- 
 cusses the attitude of the inquirer for truth. He dis- 
 tinctly rejects the position that we must start without 
 prepossessions. Yet he would have prejudice put 
 aside — "all belief that is merely traditional, all which 
 has not already commended itself on the best evi- 
 dence." By laying aside these the seeker becomes as 
 
EXEGESIS. 33 
 
 a little child. "But he who does become as a little 
 child enters the kingdom. He does not stand forever 
 at the door. The progress of the theological seeker is 
 not from one negation to another, not from doubt to 
 doubt, but from faith to faith The com- 
 plement of seeking is finding. . . . To seek for- 
 ever without finding would be an eternal delirium." 
 Hence he gathers the characteristic marks of a Chris- 
 tian seeker: " (i) To. have the spirit and disposition of 
 a true disciple; to recognize the true value of divine 
 truth ; to hunger and thirst after righteousness. (2) 
 To exercise the requisite activity ; to meet the advances 
 of God's Spirit; to obey his suggestions; and to recog- 
 nize the law of progress in spiritual culture; to seek 
 that he may find. (3) Thus to avoid the faults of (a) 
 stagnation, {b) self complacency, (c) narrowness and 
 dogmatism." It is to be regretted that this fine ad- 
 dress is not preserved to us complete. Enough re- 
 mains to note (further) the author's conception of the 
 Bible as the source of truth: "The material of truth 
 is fact, i. e. reality. The great question the seeker 
 proposes is: what is the reality of being? Now have 
 you ever thought that the Bible is almost altogether a 
 book of facts? The largest portion of it, to begin 
 with, is history — the record of what has been. Then 
 comes poetry, and poetry is a record of psychological 
 facts, experimental facts, the history of souls. Job, 
 Ecclesiastes, the Psalms are not surpassed [in this 
 respect] by Sophocles or Shakspeare. Prophecy is 
 what ? Largely a recognition of existing facts, social, 
 moral, religious ; for the remainder, an anticipation of 
 future facts. Even a didactic book like Proverbs is a 
 source of facts. Hence our search is first a search for 
 facts, next a search for the significance of the facts — 
 we must find the soul of each. . . . This is not 
 
34 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 all. We are to learn their relations. The facts and 
 realities of revelation are not like a string of pearls, 
 but like a network, interlacing, dependent, or rather 
 they are all a spiritual body, an organic whole, mem- 
 bers without number but all one body." 
 
 It was with such conceptions of the seeker and his 
 object that Dr. Evans carried on his work. The work 
 of the student is to search for the truth. But a further 
 consideration had great weight with him. The truth 
 gained by the theological student is a means to an end 
 and this end is the good of others. Not to gain the 
 truth simply for one's own edification, but to proclaim 
 it for the good of others — this is the real aim of theo- 
 logical study. This practical aim was always promi- 
 nently before Prof. Evans. His paper on an "Evan- 
 gelistic Theology" is sufficient evidence of this 
 statement. And even more explicitly he affirms it in 
 his addresses on the Faculty of Lane (delivered at the 
 opening of Seminary Hall, December 1 8, 1879) anc * on 
 the Life and Work of Prof. Stowe (read before the 
 Lane Club, December 14,1886). His thorough appre- 
 ciation of the spirit of the Seminary can be shown by 
 a quotation from the former of these papers : 
 
 "The leading characteristic of the old Faculty of 
 Lane, that which gave to its members their unity and 
 vitality, was their evangelistic spirit. They were men 
 in whom the Great Commission was as fire in their 
 bones. The Redeemer's kingdom of grace and glory, 
 the majesty, the power, the triumph of that kingdom — 
 this was the vision which enraptured and energized 
 
 their souls Would it be too much to hope that, 
 
 through such seraph souls, Lane Seminary has been 
 harnessed to the chariot of Christ, yoked forever to the 
 thought 'Christ for the world, the world for Christ?' 
 
 "This seems to be the proper place to emphasize 
 the revival spirit which so eminently characterized the 
 early Faculty. The Faculty records show that in 1839, 
 
EXEGESIS. 35 
 
 in the very midst of the throes which accompanied the 
 rending of the Presbyterian Church in twain, the topics 
 of the Faculty conference with students for five weeks 
 
 in succession, all centered in the idea of a revival 
 
 This intense evangelism and revivalism found practical 
 expression in the earnest endeavor and purpose of those 
 men to train their students, above all else, to be 
 preachers. They did not disparage scholastic attain- 
 ments ; they did not depreciate theological culture ; but 
 with them the crown of all theological acquisition and 
 discipline was power in preaching — preaching so as to 
 save souls. Dr. Allen has said of Dr. Beecher in 
 words which indicate his own conception of what is the 
 grand aim of theological instruction : ' the truths he 
 discussed became living truths, truths to be loved and 
 lived and preached ; lively stones in God's spiritual 
 house, which would illuminate and animate everything 
 they could touch, and not bones of a skeleton to be 
 fastened together with wires, and hung up to show how 
 complete a theological system can be and how cold it 
 can be too. ' And the same may be said [continues 
 Dr. Evans] of all that earlier Faculty from Beecher, 
 with whom the grandest thing was to save souls, down 
 to Smith, with whom a true sermon was the highest 
 work of art, and the pulpit the most commanding 
 
 pedestal of mental and spiritual greatness They 
 
 were, moreover, thoroughly practical men. They were 
 far indeed, from favoring the superficial cant of a prac- 
 tical culture which disregards thorough drill in the 
 essentials of Christian scholarship and thorough ground- 
 ing in the fundamentals of Christian doctrine. It was, 
 indeed, precisely to counteract such pseudo-practicalism 
 that they gave themselves up so heartily and zealously 
 to the business of theological education in the West. 
 But in the best sense of the word they were thoroughly 
 practical men. They did not deal in hair-splitting 
 dialectics, in mere speculative subtleties, in infra-micro- 
 scopic infinitesimals. For them Truth was Life. . . . Nor 
 must we omit to record their catholicity of spirit. What 
 Bishop Mclvaine said of Dr. Biggs, might be said of 
 each of them : ' A beautiful trait in his character was 
 
36 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 the largeness of his Christian regards.' They believed 
 in a spiritual Christianity; they took large interior 
 views of its truths and forces. They came here not to 
 tithe sectarian mint, or ecclesiastical anise, or theo- 
 logical cummin ; they came to magnify the essentials 
 of Christianity. 
 
 "This earnest endeavor of the early Faculty of Lane 
 to bring their teachings into contact with the living 
 wants of the world finds another expression in their 
 progressive spirit. While firmly planting themselves on 
 the Reformed theology as ' containing unquestionably 
 the system of doctrine taught in the Holy Scriptures, 
 and standing through ages against the encroachments 
 of error, as the iron-bound shores to the ocean,' they 
 sought at the same time to occupy those points of view 
 which made more clear the adaptation of Christian truth 
 to the exigencies of the day in which we live. Clearly 
 discriminating between human philosophies and the di- 
 vine Word, as factors of Christian thought, they sought 
 to unfold the system of doctrine, as it is to be found 
 clothed and beautified and inspired with life, as it exists 
 and operates in the Word of God." 
 
 The warmth with which the author dilates upon these 
 various qualifications of the early professors shows that 
 he was strongly in sympathy with them. The appreci- 
 ation of their devotion, their manliness, their thorough 
 scholarship, their practical aim, their progressive spirit, 
 which is shown in his eulogy, arose from a kindred dis- 
 position and kindred aspirations in his own heart. In 
 truth, Professor Evans was not behind any of those no- 
 ble men. Without exaggeration we may apply to him 
 what he said of Professor Stowe : ' ' This rare combina- 
 tion of gifts he consecrated to the service of religion in 
 what was for him the great business of his life — advan- 
 cing the true interpretation of the Word of God in the 
 ministry, in the church, and in the world. This was his 
 preeminent mission. It was the passion of his being. 
 For it he was richly endowed with scholarship, genius, 
 
EXEGESIS. 37 
 
 aptness to teach, enthusiasm, and, above all, supreme 
 love for the Bible. Of his statement and practice of the 
 principles of interpretation, I must content myself now 
 with saying that he was sound, sober, conservative; at 
 the same time he was broad, progressive, fearless, open 
 to the light ; indeed, eager for the light which, with the 
 Puritan Robinson, he believed is yet to break forth from 
 the Word of God and ' will continue to increase until the 
 time of the end. ' He believed in exegesis, not eisegesis ; 
 in inductive, not a priori exegesis ; in the exegesis of 
 the spirit, as deeper and truer than that of the letter." 
 
 What Dr. Evans was in the class-room and in the 
 services of the Seminary may be gathered from what 
 has now been seen of his attitude towards the Script- 
 ures. His pupils never had any doubt that the text 
 they were studying was to him the authoritative Word 
 of God. His personal reverence for it was evident in 
 all his handling of it. It was the man of his counsel, 
 the light of his path. It would not be too much for 
 him to say with the Psalmist: "How sweet are thy 
 words unto my taste ! Yea, sweeter than honey to my 
 mouth ! " The result was a rare familiarity with the Bi- 
 ble, and this not merely with the English version, but 
 with the meaning and force of the original. His public 
 reading of the New Testament was an evidence of this. 
 By inflection and emphasis he put into the well-known 
 words new life and beauty and power. What he said 
 about the practical aim of the Lane professors was emi- 
 nently true of himself. Any question by a student as 
 to the application of a text was met with sympathy, 
 and answered with interest. Towards the student in 
 need of help he showed the friendliness noted by his 
 classmate in a passage quoted above. The dull or dis- 
 couraged were never repulsed or even sharply brought 
 up by him. He seemed to have an instinctive appreci- 
 
38 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 ation of the difficulties of his pupils, he entered into 
 these difficulties, he understood the point of view of 
 the inquirer, and, starting from that common point, led 
 him to the higher and broader outlook. He had a gen- 
 uine affection for his pupils, and followed their course 
 both in the Seminary and out of it as only a genuine 
 teacher can. 
 
 In connection with his work as professor, he was able 
 to instruct a wide circle through the press. He was 
 invited by the Rev. Dr. SchafT, editor of the great 
 Lange Commentary, to prepare for the press the 
 volume on Job in that series. The volume which 
 appeared in 1874 was much more than a simple 
 translation of the German. It was enriched by notes 
 from many sources, and showed the translator's famil- 
 iarity with the literature of the subject. He supple- 
 mented the introduction also by a discussion of his own 
 on the authorship of the book. This discussion, headed 
 "Was Hezekiah the author of Job?" is an acute 
 comparison of the literary character of Job with the 
 psalm of Hezekiah in Isaiah xxxviii, and with the 
 historical notices of that king found in other books. 
 The material in hand is not sufficient in quantity to 
 make the argument decisive. But it must be said that 
 the American editor, in attributing the book to Heze- 
 kiah, was much nearer the right date than his German 
 original, which placed it in the age of Solomon. The 
 commentary was welcomed by Dr. SchafT with high 
 praise, and he immediately invited the translator to 
 prepare a commentary of his own on some of the 
 books where he found the German volume unsatisfac- 
 tory. Dr. Evans accepted this invitation, and entered 
 with ardor upon the work. Scarcely had he begun his 
 preparation, however, when the death of one of his 
 colleagues threw extra work upon him. With the 
 
EXEGESIS. 3g 
 
 loyalty to the seminary which always characterized 
 him, he gave up all outside matters to do double work 
 for the students. 
 
 The Presbyterian Review, founded in 1881, was 
 always an object of interest to Dr. Evans, and on the 
 death of Professor James Eells, he became one of the 
 associate editors. He had also been associated with 
 the Rev. Dr. Day in conducting the Theological Eclec- 
 tic. Of his contributions to the Presbyterian Review, 
 two at least deserve mention here. One was an article 
 on the Doctrinal Significance of the Revision (of the 
 New Testament). This article, which appeared in 
 1883, is an appreciative estimate of the Revisor's work. 
 It reviews the changes made from the Authorized Ver- 
 sion under the several heads : Inspiration, Revelation, 
 the Godhead, Christology, Pneumatology, Anthropol- 
 ogy, Soteriology and Eschatology. Under each head 
 the changes made are briefly characterized with their 
 implications, abundant references being given in the 
 notes. The article is a helpful review of Dogmatic 
 Theology, with an indication of the way in which it 
 ought to be brought nearer to Biblical teaching. It 
 could be written only by one at home in both depart- 
 ments, and only by one saturated with the original 
 language of the New Testament. 
 
 The second contribution I will mention, is an editorial 
 note, published in 1887, on the Biblical Doctrine of the 
 Intermediate State. On this, which the author rightly 
 describes as one of the most difficult as well as one of 
 the most imperfectly developed departments of Biblical 
 Theology, we have here a model discussion. Appar- 
 ently the induction is complete ; no important passage 
 is overlooked. The treatment is genetic and historical. 
 The Old Testament rudiments are shown in their sim- 
 plicity, and the development of the New Testament 
 
40 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 doctrine is shown to proceed from this basis. The 
 largeness of the New Testament doctrine is given 
 without dogmatic forcing. Sobriety of judgment is 
 combined with believing acceptance of what is revealed, 
 and resting in what is revealed. The article makes us 
 regret that the author had not given us a complete 
 Biblical Theology. 
 
 Of late years his attention was more and more 
 drawn to the Epistle to the Romans. He read it 
 regularly with one of his classes and prepared extended 
 outlines of a commentary for their use. The purpose 
 to publish a commentary on it was formed some years 
 ago, and one of the attractions in the call to Wales 
 was that it seemed to promise him a time free from 
 interruptions in which to complete this great work. 
 He once said to me : "I want to get at the thoughts 
 of the Apostle as they lay in his mind." With this 
 end in view he had of late years paid especial attention 
 to Jewish theology, hoping to understand the thoughts 
 of Paul the Pharisee, as the Pharisees of the first cen- 
 tury would have understood them. When it was 
 laughingly said to him that the commentators get 
 more things out of Paul's language than are there, he 
 replied with great earnestness : " I once thought so, 
 but the more I study his language the more I find in 
 it." As an illustration of his method in bringing out 
 the thought of the text, I will quote a fragment on 
 Rom. v, 7 : 
 _ . " For [illustrative] hardly fa difficult thin? to 
 
 Super-human j a mi j- rr j. c i 
 
 contrasts. suppose or doj will any one die [future of proba- 
 
 bility] in behalf of a righteous man [double con- 
 trast of dinaioc. i. with aae(3fc preceding: 2. with 
 ayaddg following ; dinaioc here a man whose strict in- 
 The maximum tegrity rather than generosity is the conspicuous 
 
 of human feature of his character; — with difficulty I say] for 
 [justifying fiolig ; something more than blameless- 
 ness is needed to call out any such sacrifice in be- 
 half of another among men] in behalf of the 
 
EXEGESIS. 41 
 
 [ideally rov] good man [whose nobleness aud mag- 
 nanimity inspire personal devotion] one does [pres- 
 ent indicative : such a case is not unknown ; one 
 does now and then, here or there] peradventure 
 [after all such a case is a possibility rather than a 
 probability] even muster courage to die. 
 
 But [contrasting the unicum of Divine Love The unicum of 
 with the maximum of human love] God sets forth divine love, 
 [putting one thing with, beside another, so as to set 
 forth the former] HIS OWN [spontaneous, proceed- 
 ing from Himself, worthy of Himself] love towards 
 us in that while we were as yet [prior to the inter- 
 position of Divine Love] sinners [not ayaOoi, not 
 even ducaioi] Christ died for us [N. B. Ckrisfs dying 
 for us setting forth God's love]." 
 
 It must be remembered that this is a mere outline 
 intended for the guidance of the student. In the class- 
 room it was supplemented by the personal instruction 
 of the author — an instruction vivified by intense love 
 for the sacred Word, and glowing with a passion for 
 the truth. The author's broadly sympathetic view of 
 the Apostle Paul may be gathered from an outline 
 sermon on Rom. v, 17: ("For if by one man's offense 
 death reigned by one," etc.) from which the follow- 
 ing is taken: 
 
 "This chapter is the scene of a thousand pitched 
 battles. Here the theological war horses snuff the 
 battle and prick up their ears — the Fathers, the School- 
 men, the Reformers, the Puritans, the Divines, the 
 Commentators. The contest has raged about particles, 
 clauses, grammar, logic. The Divine Fire has been 
 parsed out, the Divine Life has been criticized and 
 dissected. It has been the misfortune of the world to 
 be visited with literal, prosaic, onesided minds, incapa- 
 ble of more than one thought, incapable of appre- 
 ciating the high thoughts of others. . . . And it 
 has been the misfortune of ardent enthusiastic souls to 
 fall victims to such. Often one of the narrow, one- 
 sided, undertakes to measure the large, manysided. 
 Sometimes the glowing melting inspirations of the 
 poet (like David or Isaiah) are frozen into abstract 
 formulas [by such a course]. The burning utterances 
 
42 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 of a seraphic soul (like Paul or John) are parsed dry 
 and dead like an Egyptian mummy; and there are 
 those who (like the watchmaker) put on magnifying 
 glasses and try to pick out grammatical errors in the 
 songs of heaven. 
 
 "It is often the case that a man's greatest enemy is 
 his own reputation. If he have the reputation of a 
 'wit' he cannot say anything serious without making 
 people laugh. If he have the reputation of an ' en- 
 thusiast ' he cannot propose anything practical without 
 having it called visionary. If he have the reputation 
 of being ' matter of fact, ' he cannot utter anything 
 elevated without giving rise to the fear that he is 
 insane. It has been the fate of Paul to bear the 
 reputation of a logician. Such, no doubt he was. But, 
 was he nothing else ? [It is forgotten] that he was full 
 of passion, poetry, fire. And when cold, unimpassioned, 
 unimaginative, literal souls examine him, they see 
 nothing in his impassioned appeals, glowing conceptions, 
 poetic personifications, vehement bursts of eulogy, 
 lightning-like flashes and transitions of thought, but 
 logic — a chain of premises and conclusions; a string 
 of argumentative hooks and eyes, which somehow have 
 sometimes got very much entangled. No wonder that 
 when such come to Romans Y. they cannot agree. 
 For the chapter is what? Not a didactic essay, a 
 theological lecture, a dry formula like the Confession 
 of Faith ; but a hymn of joy, a psalm of thanksgiving. 
 Of course, there is logic, for there is logic in all true 
 eloquence. But it is a ' logic on fire, ' as different from 
 what ordinarily passes for logic, as the train of powder 
 dry is different from the same train when fired. We 
 cannot analyze it — it analyzes itself. . . . Regard it now 
 as a hymn, and as I read it imagine the glorified spirit 
 of Paul, clothed with heavenly radiance, chanting the 
 praises of Christ's redeeming love, to thrill with courage 
 and joy the hearts of his brethren struggling and tried 
 below." 
 
 With such breadth and insight did our Professor 
 carry on the study of the Bible. Nor was his study 
 confined to the Epistle to the Romans. Among his 
 
EXEGESIS. 43 
 
 papers are extended analyses of Ephesians, Galatians, 
 Hebrews and James, besides comparative tables of lex- 
 ical peculiarities of different books, discussions of in- 
 dividual words, of hebraisms in the New Testament, 
 and of points in introduction. His lectures on Her- 
 meneutics and on the history of the New Testament 
 text were frequently re-written. In short, his papers 
 give evidence of constant activity in his department as 
 well as of wide literary, philosophical and theological 
 research. In connection with his professorship he acted 
 as librarian of the Seminary for some years. He was 
 also an active member of the Theological and Religious 
 Library Association, of Cincinnati, during the whole 
 of his connection with the Seminary. For a consider- 
 able part of the time he was a member of its Execu- 
 tive Committee. His wide knowledge of literature was 
 of especial value to this association. He touched 
 literature and theology thus at many points. Central 
 to them all was his knowledge of the Bible and his 
 interest in the Bible. 
 
IV. 
 
 HOME AND SOCIAL LIFE. 
 
 It is unfortunate that we can not present our friends 
 in their entirety — that in order to see them ourselves 
 or to describe them to others, we have to analyze 
 them. A bill of particulars is not a picture, much less 
 is it a person. But a bill of particulars is all we can 
 present in a biographical sketch. I have preferred to 
 say what I had to say of my friend's character as a 
 scholar and teacher under one head, reserving some 
 personal traits for a distinct chapter. The manysided- 
 ness of his character makes it necessary that we should 
 not, in considering the exegete, forget the man. 
 
 Of sanguine temper and abounding humor, Dr. Evans 
 was retiring in disposition, so that he did not show this 
 side of his character at all times. In the intimacy of 
 home and among near friends, however, he showed 
 inexhaustible resources both of wit and humor. A brief 
 note in his handwriting gives his own appreciation of 
 the latter endowment. "No man," he says, "can be 
 fully and thoroughly and always wise, without humor. 
 There are circumstances when it is only the keen and 
 vivid perception of folly which humor gives, that can 
 save a man from being foolish, or, what is quite as bad, 
 ridiculous. Hence, humorless men, however grave, 
 sagacious, learned, have often been guilty of absurdities 
 
 (44) 
 
HOME AND SOCIAL LIFE. 45 
 
 which amaze us." Those who knew Dr. Evans as a 
 young man recall the almost rollicking enjoyment with 
 which he would delight the social circle, keeping them 
 bubbling over by his infinitude of jests. As he grew 
 older this tendency was chastened, but his appreciation 
 of fun was keen to the last. There was, however, noth- 
 ing malicious in his merry-making, and it is doubtful 
 whether a single human being was ever hurt by what 
 he said. 
 
 For the last twenty-five years of his life he was a 
 member of a social and literary club called U. C. D. A 
 gentleman who was associated with him in this organ- 
 ization from its beginning, speaks of him as follows :* 
 
 "He brought to this club talents of the highest order, 
 and placed his training as a teacher, a writer and a critic 
 at its service. He constantly drew from the rich stores 
 at his command, rare and beautiful things for its enter- 
 tainment. Early in his membership he was appointed 
 secretary, was re-elected year after year, and no one 
 was found willing to assume the place when he vacated 
 it. His minutes at once became the prominent feature 
 of each meeting, and the greatest incentive to prompt 
 attendance. Any so unfortunate as to be a little late 
 would slip into a convenient chair, or rest upon the 
 stairway to hear him before retiring to remove out-door 
 wraps. Each record presented some new manifestation 
 of his wonderful versatility as a writer. He never con- 
 fined himself to a bare recital of the facts. He wove into 
 the texture by way of background just enough reference 
 to the actual events of a meeting to identify it, and 
 then added such marvelous creations of his genius, such 
 irresistible displays of wit, such rare bits of pure, gen- 
 uine fun and such evidences of scholarly ability, as to 
 make of the whole a literary production of very unusual 
 merit. 
 
 *From a paper read before the Lane Seminary Club by- 
 Thornton M. Hinkle, Esq. 
 
46 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 "The minutes of scientific and professional bodies 
 report not only the papers read to them but also the 
 discussions upon them which follow. Occasionally 
 Prof. Evans would supply from his vivid fancy such a 
 discussion to supplement his references to papers read 
 to the club. At one meeting a paper was read upon 
 American birds which mentioned the fact that it was 
 the male bird only which is gifted with song and is 
 clothed with the most beautiful plumage. He closed 
 a brief reference to it by stating that it was interesting 
 not only in what it said but in what it suggested ; that 
 it gave rise to a series of remarks by the various 
 husbands in the company, which were reported some- 
 what at length in the usual style, in which they claimed 
 analogies and drew deductions from these superior en- 
 dowments of the male bird, to their own great credit 
 and comfort, and to the poorly suppressed indignation 
 and confusion of their wives. The discussion was very 
 scientific, very funny, and altogether imaginary. 
 
 " His minutes came to us often in the shape of poetry, 
 either blank verse or rhyme, with frequent imitations 
 of many well known writers who prided themselves 
 upon some marked peculiarity of style. They were 
 instructive as well as amusing. They abounded in 
 references to current matters of thought. In every one 
 of them were casual suggestions which often 'proved 
 the key to open unknown apartments in the palace 
 of truth ' and ' unexplored tracts in the paradise of 
 sentiment that environs it. ' 
 
 "I cannot recall a single feature of the life or the 
 needs of such a club in which he was not in some 
 way prominent, or to which he did not contribute. 
 He adapted himself to every occasion. He was prompt 
 in repartee and yet never cutting or unkind. He was 
 always cheerful and genial. Social life was for him a 
 relaxation from the cares and duties of his profession. 
 He needed rest and he gave himself up to it and en- 
 joyed it with the zest of a boy on his holiday. Yet 
 he fully realized that there is work to be done even in 
 such relaxation, and was ever ready to do his share 
 and more in order to contribute to the general pleasure. 
 
HOME AND SOCIAL LIFE. 47 
 
 I think he enjoyed fully as much the preparatory 
 labor involved in the exercise of his wonderful powers, 
 as he did those rare occasions when, perhaps a little 
 wearied from the battles and toils of daily life, he sat 
 as a silent listener. . . . He was an excellent actor, and 
 upon occasion took a leading part in dramatic repre- 
 sentations. I have alluded to his readiness at repartee. 
 As Carlyle said of another: 'his sparkling sallies bub- 
 bled up as from aerated natural fountains.' His vivid 
 fancy, well stored memory and fluent language found 
 expression in conversations which ministered to in- 
 tellectual culture. . . . One cannot review or report 
 such conversations. Their point or pungency are so 
 connected with the special events which gave rise to 
 them, they depend so much upon the atmosphere of 
 the occasion and the frame of mind of those present 
 that no account of them will give an adequate idea 
 of their brilliancy. 
 
 Some of Dr. Evans' humorous papers will be pub- 
 lished in the proposed volume of Essays and Addresses. 
 It will give the reader some idea of his fertility of re- 
 source, to indicate here the titles of some. ' 'Apologia 
 pro vita sua, or a Word for Loafers, by one of Them" 
 may head the list. " Leaves out of the Autobiography 
 of a poor young man " is in the same vein. In 
 criticism we have exhaustive discussions of "Jack and 
 Jill" and "There was a Man in our Town." Poetry 
 is represented by an " Ode to Sublimity," and an "Ode 
 to the Ant," besides parodies of Jean Ingelow and the 
 Sweet Singer of Michigan. Prose parodies are "Dr. 
 Isaac Splaudius " (Crawford) and "Incendiarism as a 
 Fine Art" (DeQuincey). "Simon Firkin or the Career 
 of an Ambitious Young Man " apparently belongs in 
 the same category. "Anthropophagy: the Future De- 
 velopment of the Race, or the Coming Cannibal," suf- 
 ficiently explains itself, as does the title of the pseudo- 
 scientific paper "Formicae." 
 
48 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 October 19, 187 1, Professor Evans was married to 
 Miss Sarah E. Fry, of La Porte, Indiana. The union 
 of hearts thus solemnized brought unalloyed happiness 
 to both, and their affection grew deeper as the years 
 passed by. Into the sanctities of home-life we get a 
 glimpse in the two sonnets composed by the husband 
 en the tenth and on the twentieth anniversary of their 
 wedding : 
 
 OCTOBER 19, 1881. 
 
 " What 
 For sweetness like the ten years wife, 
 Whose customary love is not 
 Her passion or her play, but life ! " 
 
 [Coventry Patmore.] 
 
 Tell me thy secret, Love, I thee entreat ! 
 
 My secret he doth win who winneth me. 
 
 Love unlocks Love ; its holy Mystery 
 
 Forever grows more deep, more clear, more sweet. 
 
 Love's hours teach him who loveth, to repeat 
 
 The alphabet of yon celestial Law, 
 
 Which to their central suns the worlds doth draw. 
 
 Love's blissful years will nurture skill to spell 
 
 The words in which the heart of heaven doth burn. 
 
 Love's decades grasp the phrases wherein dwell 
 
 The love and worship of the saints above, 
 
 The blest divinity which seraphs learn. 
 
 E'en thus the undying centuries will yearn 
 
 To scale the untrodden, God-kissed altitude of love. 
 
 OCTOBER 19, 1891. 
 
 Lost in my bliss I marvel much to-day 
 How Love's strange shepherding brings heart to heart 
 By paths in their beginning far apart, 
 Which yet beneath his staffs mysterious sway 
 Draw nearer till they meet in one blest way 
 Whose course doth follow Love's unerring chart, 
 Whose steps are trained by Truth's divinest art, 
 Whose goal is crowned with Joy's eternal ray. 
 
 As now we reach our twentieth milestone, Sweet, 
 
 Of sacred fellowship upon that road, 
 
 We pause our altar-stone of help to raise, 
 
 To breathe one prayer, to sing one hymn of praise 
 
 For our one life, one trust, one joy, one load 
 
 Resting the while at our dear Shepherd's feet. 
 
 In September, 1874, Dr. and Mrs. Evans took pos- 
 session of the residence in the seminary grounds occu- 
 
HOME AND SOCIAL LIFE. 49 
 
 pied at one time by Dr. Allen and later by Dr. Henry 
 A. Nelson. This home was theirs thenceforth, and it 
 was the center of united affection working for a com- 
 mon end. Speaking of the house soon after moving 
 into it, Dr. Evans wrote to a friend in Wales: "The 
 feature which I enjoy most of all is my new study, a 
 room on the second floor front with three windows, 
 two overlooking the campus and one to the east — as 
 bright, cozy, quiet and cheerful a room for a study as 
 I know. If I do not, like Milton, succeed in writing 
 something that the world will not willingly let die, it 
 will certainly not be the fault of my surroundings. " 
 This study was always open to any one seeking advice 
 or information, and the whole house was the scene of 
 cordial hospitality to friends from near and from far. 
 To the students of the seminary especially it was made 
 attractive during their course, and they were warmly 
 welcomed to it when they returned for a visit after 
 their graduation. Its friendly atmosphere can not be 
 described, but it is remembered by the many who en- 
 joyed it. The crowning happiness came May 13, 1876, 
 when a son was born in that home. His father writes 
 soon after the event : ' ' The chief item of news from 
 this household is 'all about the baby' who was born 
 Saturday the 13th inst. He is a fine boy, fat and 
 healthy, weighing nine pounds, and twenty-one inches 
 long. . . . It is too early to say much about him. 
 The general impression seems to be that he favors his 
 mother. His hair will probably have a tinge of his 
 father's. I wouldn't call him a superlatively handsome 
 baby though I am his father, but he has a good bright 
 face, and a dark blue eye full of life and, I suspect, of 
 mischief. He is unusually vigorous, hits out square 
 from the shoulder and kicks magnificently. On the 
 whole I am not inclined to dispute what the ladies who 
 
50 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 have seen him say, that he is a baby to be proud of. 
 May God grant that, if his life be spared, he may be 
 a true and good man." 
 
 The life in this home moved on quietly and happily 
 through years filled with the literary work already indi- 
 cated. The shadow which began to fall, took the shape 
 of physical infirmity. Dr. Evans had always had 
 remarkable vigor of body. For some years after he 
 became professor in the seminary he was foremost in 
 the athletic sports of the students — played ball with all 
 his might, rode horseback, walked all over the neigh- 
 borhood, and in fact was known as a "muscular Chris- 
 tian." It is not necessary here to detail the symptoms 
 which gave him uneasiness and puzzled the physicians. 
 After various experiments in treatment, he decided to 
 spend the summer of the year 1888 abroad. His va- 
 cation was at first extended to six months, and later, 
 he was given leave of absence for the year. Receiving 
 no relief in the methods first tried, he consulted the 
 eminent Sir Wm. Roberts, of Manchester, who discov- 
 ered organic disease of the heart. He did not conceal 
 from his patient the serious nature of the difficulty, but 
 gave him reason to hope, that with care, he might 
 enjoy some years of life and work. The remainder of 
 the year was spent in rest and under treatment, and on 
 his return the Professor took up his work with courage 
 and cheerfulness. His disease made no sensible progress 
 for over three years, and his labors as an instructor were 
 never more successful than during these years. 
 
 The trip to Europe was taken at the conclusion of 
 twenty-five years of service in the Seminary. It was 
 fitting that it should be marked in some special way. 
 The students of the seminary, as a token of their 
 appreciation, presented him, at this time, with a watch 
 and chain. Dr. Evans' reply to the speech of presen- 
 
HOME AND SOCIAL LIFE. 5 I 
 
 tation, touchingly expressed his deep and earnest 
 affection for Lane Seminary. He said he had always 
 been grateful for the providential events which had led 
 him to Cincinnati, and as a student to Lane Seminary. 
 The debt he owed to his instructors here, he could not 
 measure. He began to love the seminary when a stu- 
 dent, and his affection for it had deepened with each 
 year of service. He owed a great deal to the students 
 also, whom he had been permitted to teach, and he 
 loved the classes in the institution now, and every 
 member of each class. At the meeting the same year, 
 the trustees of the seminary put on record their high 
 appreciation of Dr. Evans and of his faithful service for 
 twenty-five years in the following words (May I, i) 
 
 " Whereas, the close of the past session marks the 
 completion of twenty-five years of service in this insti- 
 tution by our beloved Professor, the Rev. LI. I. Evans, 
 D. D. ; therefore, 
 
 "i. Resolved, That we record our sincere thanks- 
 giving to Almighty God for the health He has given 
 him, and the grace and power from on high, which 
 have been added to his instruction. 
 
 "2. We hereby tender our congratulations to Pro- 
 fessor Evans, and assure him of our sincere and hearty 
 appreciation of his scholarship, our confidence in his 
 teaching power and our affection for him as a man and 
 as a Christian. 
 
 "3. We hereby grant Professor Evans any such 
 extension of his summer vacation into the time of the 
 next seminary year, as he may himself deem useful for 
 the completion of his travel in foreign parts, and com- 
 mend him and his to the good hand of our God whose 
 are all our ways." 
 
 Dr. Evans' continued interest in his work during his 
 absence is indicated by the fact that he wrote to the 
 class graduating in 1889, a pastoral letter which the 
 class received and acknowledged with hearty affection. 
 A copy of it is not in my possession. 
 
CLOSING YEARS. 
 
 The winter after Dr. Evans' return from Europe 
 showed renewed theological activity in the Presbyterian 
 Church. The years since the reunion had been spent 
 in developing the practical activities of the Church. 
 It had been assumed that its doctrine was virtually 
 one, and that this was sufficiently expressed in the Con- 
 fession and Catechisms of the Westminster Assembly. 
 So recently as 1881 it was asserted on the floor of the 
 General Assembly that the terms of reunion pledged 
 the Church to keep these historic monuments in the 
 exact form in which the American Church had always 
 received them. This point of view was so far aband- 
 oned in 1889 that a decided movement was made 
 towards a revision of the Confession, so far at least as 
 to remove some extreme statements from that vener- 
 able document. This movement culminated in the 
 Assembly of 1890, which appointed a committee to 
 revise the Confession. 
 
 It need not be said that Dr. Evans took the liveliest 
 interest in this movement. By conviction and by edu- 
 cation he belonged to the New School branch of the 
 Church. In the reunion he knew that that branch had 
 made no surrender of principle. But he realized that 
 the freer thought was now overshadowed by the pre- 
 (52) .- • - • - - 
 
CLOSING YEARS. 53 
 
 ponderant conservatism, especially of this region. So 
 early as 1876 he wrote to his friend in Wales of one 
 who ' ' is trying all he can to break down liberal Pres- 
 byterianism. " In 1879 he writes again: " Sometimes 
 I feel a little discouraged about the reactionary drift 
 which seems now to be setting in in American Presby- 
 terianism. I fear it will paralyze the power of the Church 
 to stem the tide of unbelief. But it cannot always 
 continue, nor, I trust, long." In 1883 he had an op- 
 portunity, of which he availed himself, to speak for lib- 
 erty of discussion. The occasion was Commencement 
 day of that year, when addresses were made by two of the 
 graduates, which were attacked by conservative ministers 
 as " dangerous. " One of these , by Arthur J. Brown, 
 was on " the Church of the Future ;" the other by A. A. 
 Rogers on "Revision of the Westminster Symbols." 
 The extremely mild progressiveness of these papers 
 was criticised by some who were present and (more 
 bitterly) by some who were absent. Dr. Evans exposed 
 these critics in a vigorous article, a part of which is as 
 follows : 
 
 1 ' Your strictures on the delivery of Mr. Rogers' 
 address impel me to make a few remarks in my own 
 behalf, as one of those whose action in the premises 
 has been subjected to criticism. I write only for my- 
 self. (1) You say: 'the animadversions on it are not 
 based upon the ground that revision is not a proper 
 subject for investigation and discussion.' I question 
 the authoritativeness of this statement. I challenge a 
 poll of those who object to the speech. Without men- 
 tioning names, I am confident that only a very small 
 minority of them could be found to say that they are 
 in favor of touching the standards at all. 
 
 "(2) You say that 'nobody regards the Confession 
 as infallible or immutable.' If the Professor of Syste- 
 matic Theology in the Northwestern Seminary and the 
 editor of the Presbyterian Banner do not hold that the 
 
54 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 Confession is immutable when they plead as an argu- 
 ment against revision that under the terms of reunion 
 'the Confession shall continue to be held,' then what 
 do they mean? .... 
 
 " (5) It would be interesting to know just what there 
 is about this question of the revision of the standards 
 which invests it with such peculiar sacredness. Can- 
 didates for the ministry are permitted, yes, are encour- 
 aged, nay more, are required to discuss the profoundest 
 and most sacred of Scripture themes. They are set to 
 tackle the problems of 4 fixed fate, free will, fore-knowl- 
 edge absolute.' They are appointed to write in more 
 or less luminous Latin, theses De Predestinatione , De 
 Incamatione, De Trinitate. They are invited to exegete 
 the knottiest passages of Paul, to write sermons and 
 lectures on each and every theme of which the Stand- 
 ards treat. But when it comes to the discussion of 
 the statements — human uninspired statements — of the 
 Standards, the caveat is thundered forth: Procul Pro- 
 fanii at least Procid Juvenes ! You are too young, too 
 immature, too inexperienced ! Is a young man com- 
 petent to write a thesis or sermon on predestination in 
 phraseology of his own, who is not competent to discuss 
 the phraseology of the Confession?" 
 
 Dr. Evans had therefore taken his position squarely 
 in favor of free discussion long before the revision 
 movement was begun. After its beginning he writes 
 again to his friend in Wales (Nov. 1889): "lam still 
 avoiding all public work and shall adhere to that rule 
 for some time to come. This cuts me off from the 
 rather exciting discussions going on in our church As- 
 semblies on the question of revising the Confession of 
 Faith — against which position I chafe sometimes, as I 
 feel I should like to have a hand in the fight. How- 
 ever I am doing a little writing on the subject in the 
 religious newspapers, and mean, if I am able, to write 
 a good deal more before the row is over. I care more 
 for the discussion than I do for the Revision itself. I 
 think a fine opportunity is presenting itself for putting 
 
CLOSING YEARS. 55 
 
 in a few earnest blows, which I hope may tell, for a 
 
 liberal progressive and more distinctly Biblical theology.' ' 
 In accordance with this view Dr. Evans wrote two 
 articles for the Herald and Presbyter and two for the 
 Independent which gave no uncertain sound in favor of 
 progress. From one of these is taken the following 
 significant passage : 
 
 "But there is a more serious side to the case. Let 
 me emphasize the fact that the opposition to revision 
 is confessedly the expression of a serene and solid 
 (shall I write it stolid T) satisfaction with the status quo 
 of Presbyterianism and Calvinism. Why agitate for 
 anything better than we have? Why strive for any 
 higher or larger success than we have been all along 
 achieving ? ' All the past successes and victories of 
 Presbyterianism have been accomplished under the old 
 Confession. ... Is it not better for the church to 
 work on the very same old basis, in the very same 
 straight line ? ' Is this, I ask, the spirit which should 
 rule the church to-day? Is this the view we should 
 take of its achievements and equipments for work and 
 conquest? Glorious as may be the record of West- 
 minster Presbyterianism for two and a half centuries, 
 of 'the theological learning and pulpit eloquence, the 
 spiritual life and practical zeal, the heroic endeavor and 
 consecrated service of that body of Christians who 
 have believed in the theology of Westminster divines,* 
 shall we allow it to foster that spiritual complacency 
 which is the bane alike of Christians and of the church ? 
 Shall we be content that the future shall be simply a 
 rehearsal of our past? Was this the spirit of Paul, 
 whom we are so much given to vaunt as our spiritual 
 father? Is this forgetting the things which are behind 
 and reaching forth unto those things which are before? 
 Is this becoming all things to all men? Is this going 
 in at every open door? Is this watching for great 
 doors and effectual ? Is this redeeming the opportu- 
 nity, fighting as not beating the air, striking so that 
 every blow will leave a black eye behind it ? Is this 
 building up the church as the temple of God, as the 
 
$6 LLEWELYN 10 AN EVANS. 
 
 body of Christ, as the fullness of Him that filleth all in 
 all ? Is this exulting in God who always leadeth us in 
 triumph in Christ? If this be Calvinism, then what is 
 Paulinism? Nay, is not this rather that nightmare of 
 Calvinism, that dogmatic fatalism, the effort to get rid 
 of which has probably as much to do with the Revision 
 movement as any one cause? 
 
 "Let us glance a moment at another phase of this 
 same phlegmatic temper, in which, sad to say, the 
 champions of our confessional go-cart show to less ad- 
 vantage even than the champions of the liturgical go- 
 cart. The latter have at least the enthusiasm of their 
 convictions. They are benevolently anxious that the 
 merits of their go-cart should be appreciated, and they 
 look forward with confidence to the "day when every- 
 body will use it. Not so with the champions of the 
 confessional go-cart. The unpopularity of their peram- 
 bulator does not seem to distress them particularly. 
 Apparently they expect nothing else. They see no 
 good reason why if Mohammed declines to come to the 
 mountain, the mountain should go to Mohammed (sic 
 Dr. Shedd). They have little or no hope that it will 
 ever be found practicable to make a statement of Cal- 
 vinism that will commend it even to Evangelical Chris- 
 tians who thus far have not accepted it (sic Dr. DeWitt). 
 They contemplate without discomposure the alternative 
 of joining other communions for those who do not like 
 our system (sic Dr. Patton). But are we reduced to 
 this ? Is this the outcome of two centuries and a half 
 of Westminster Confessionalism ? Is it strange that 
 some of us are getting out of patience with this dogmatic 
 phlegm ; that we are somewhat tired of a Confessional- 
 ism which even in the third century of its existence is 
 content to be still on the defensive, to be still explaining 
 and re-explaining, ever at the end finding its explana- 
 tions useless and beginning all over again; which de- 
 spairs of making any impression on the Evangelical 
 Christianity outside of its own bounds ; and with face to 
 the past and back to the future drones monotonous 
 paeans of self-glorification? In all this we see nothing 
 whereof to be proud, nothing to stir the blood, nothing 
 
CLOSING YEARS. 57 
 
 to inspire enthusiasm. We would fain see a Confes- 
 sionalism of another type ; one that dared trust itself; 
 that put other creeds, if need be, on the defensive; that 
 carried in its ov/n bosom the psean of victory ; that bore 
 within itself the promise and potency of development ; 
 that could adapt itself more intelligently to the new 
 conditions of scientific, critical and religious thinking — a 
 Confessionalism so distinctively and ringingly Scriptural 
 that all Christians who accept and honor the Bible as 
 the Word of God would hear the echo of its ring in 
 their own inmost convictions — a Confessionalism that 
 would encourage its adherents to go forward with a 
 faith born of the assurance that the future is its own. 
 Is such a Confessionalism possible? Why not, Cal- 
 vinism? Why not? 
 
 "Why not? I ask. Is Calvinism to be forever on 
 the defensive ? forever pleading with a half-apologetic, 
 half-defiant snarl, that we know our system * is a hard 
 system, ' that it has ' its hard side, ' ' its hard features ' 
 — but ' there are proof-texts ' ? And after all, * why 
 should our doctrines keep men out of the church? 
 They are not asked to accept them' (sic Dr. Patton). 
 So ! And what then is the raison d'etre of our Presbyte- 
 rianism ? * To be a witness-bearing church' (sic Dr. Pat- 
 ton). But to bear witness to what? Why to that same 
 body of doctrines which, if we are to accept the dog- 
 matic confession respecting them, are irremediably, 
 hopelessly hard; which must nevertheless be unflinch- 
 ingly and unalterably retained in all their hardness; but 
 which, notwithstanding all this, only a small percentage 
 of the witness-bearers of the church are asked or bound 
 to accept ! What an extraordinary position for a great 
 witness-bearing church to occupy, to be sure! " 
 
 This eloquent presentation of the claims upon us for 
 a revision of our creed, is one of the most mature as 
 well as one of the happiest expressions of the author's 
 theological progressiveness. That progressiveness was 
 a year later called out by an event which, as we now 
 know, defeated the revision movement in the church, 
 and changed the current of Professor Evans' own life. 
 
58 LLEWEYLYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 This was the inauguration of Professor Charles A. 
 Briggs to the chair of Biblical Theology in the Union 
 Theological Seminary. The now famous inaugural ad- 
 dress was widely discussed throughout the church, and 
 resolutions calling the attention of the General Assem- 
 bly to its contents, were early offered in the Presbytery 
 of Cincinnati. Dr. Evans on hearing the clamor raised 
 about the inaugural, at once went carefully over the 
 work entitled, "Whither?" a book containing the fuller 
 expression of Dr. Briggs* theological views. He came 
 to the conclusion that the author was within the liberty 
 allowed by the Confession. It soon became evident, 
 that the opposition was based on the extreme con- 
 servative view of inspiration. This view Dr. Evans 
 had never held. At his ordination he had disavowed 
 it. When Drs. Hodge and Warfield advocated it, Dr. 
 Evans said, in private conversation, "they can not force 
 such a doctrine down our throats." Many years ago 
 he pointed out to the present writer that when we ac- 
 knowledge the Scriptures to be an infallible rule, we do 
 not affirm them to be inerrant in their statements of 
 history and science. In his article on the Doctrinal 
 significance of [New Testament] Revision, he had 
 pointed out that inspiration is not adequately stated in 
 current theories. He adds: "It is safe to assume that 
 any theory of the subject which is not elastic enough 
 to touch all the facts in the case is liable to break." 
 When the Briggs' case was first discussed, he said to 
 one of his colleagues (who interested himself in getting 
 Dr. Briggs' transfer disapproved), "it will not do at 
 this day to condemn any man on the theory of iner- 
 rancy." 
 
 The state of things which confronted us was this: 
 Resolutions were introduced in Cincinnati Presbytery, 
 condemning a member of another presbytery, and (in 
 
CLOSING YEARS. 59 
 
 effect) overturing the General Assembly to disapprove 
 his election. These resolutions were based mainly on 
 a theory of inspiration, which Dr. Evans had never held 
 and never taught, and which he believed to be contrary 
 to the facts. He was not the man to keep silent at 
 such a time. Although he had not spoken in public for 
 a long time, he resolved to oppose these resolutions in 
 Presbytery. When they were called up, he argued 
 against them, and succeeded in getting their considera- 
 tion postponed until a later meeting. He saw, however, 
 that a mere debate on the floor of Presbytery, did not 
 meet the exigency. He had already begun the prepa- 
 ration of a thorough discussion of the main question. 
 This he read in two successive meetings of the Presby- 
 terian Ministerial Association, speaking nearly two hours 
 each time. In the state of his health at the time this 
 was a clear case of not counting his life dear, that he 
 might advance the truth. His friends were much grat- 
 ified to observe that the serious strain did not seriously 
 affect his strength at the time. 
 
 The paper on Biblical Scholarship and Inspiration 
 read at this time and afterwards published,* is a noble 
 plea for freedom of Biblical study against dogmatic 
 assumptions. It begins with a statement of the imme- 
 diate occasion for the paper, but dismisses it for the 
 larger question involved : ' ' The movement, of which I 
 have spoken, and the utterances in the press and else- 
 where which have accompanied and interpreted its in- 
 ception and purpose, convince me that the time has 
 come for a definite understanding respecting the rights 
 of Christian Scholarship in the Biblical departments of 
 our theological seminaries." He then states his per- 
 
 *Now contained in " Inspiration and Inerrancy," by Henry 
 Preserved Smith, published by Robert Clarke & Co., Cincinnati, 
 1893. 
 
60 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 sonal interest in the matter; acknowledges the obli- 
 gation the professor is under to do nothing that can 
 embarrass the minister in his pulpit; but claims reci- 
 procity, and asserts that there are some conclusions 
 of Biblical theology which we must take into account. 
 He gives Dr. Charles Hodge's definition of inspiration, 
 and that of Drs. A. A. Hodge and Warfield. This a 
 priori definition he finds to be unscientific, and "not 
 only unscientific, but irreverent, presumptuous, lacking 
 in the humility with which we should approach a Divine 
 Supernatural Fact." This position he establishes by 
 the analogies of creation and the Incarnation. He 
 then sketches the recent progress of Biblical science 
 and contrasts its method with that of dogmatic the- 
 ology. Among the conclusions of Biblical science he 
 singles out those concerning the composition of the 
 Gospels for somewhat extended treatment. He points 
 out how incompatible these are with * ' the ipsissima 
 verba original autograph theory" of inspiration. He 
 then gives some specific difficulties in the way of that 
 theory, and closes with a positive formulation of the 
 doctrine of Paul in I Cor. ii, 6- 1 6, and a discussion of 
 the Confession. 
 
 The time will come when, as Dr. Evans himself 
 hoped, his views will ' ' obtain from the Church, in its 
 ultimate decision, the recognition which is claimed for 
 them as Scriptural, evangelical, confessional, scientific, 
 reverent, and indispensable to the satisfactory and per- 
 manent solution of the great problems of our age and 
 to the harmony of religious faith and scientific and crit- 
 ical processes and results." Even at the present time 
 it is impossible to read this paper without being struck 
 by the revelation of the author's heart. That heart was 
 a heart bound up in the Word of God. Its impassioned 
 argument against a false theory of Scripture is based 
 
CLOSING YEARS. 6 1 
 
 on a living faith In that Scripture, and a desire that it 
 should not be put in a false light. Dr. Evans saw that 
 to commit the Church to the theory he opposed would be 
 suicidal, certainly against the best interest of the Church 
 itself. That interest was as near to Dr. Evans' heart 
 as it was to the heart of the most conservative. To 
 him as to the other, inspiration was one of the greatest 
 of divine facts. In the course of this discussion he 
 says: 
 
 "What now is the function of inspiration? In a 
 word, it is to mediate the revelation ; to interpret, to 
 record, to apply it ; to put us, to put all generations 
 under the immediate power of those divine realities ; 
 so far as possible to bring us face to face with this in- 
 comparable drama of Power and Love Divine, face to 
 face with God revealing Himself. All through the ages 
 the Spirit of God was teaching one and another to un- 
 derstand, to interpret, to record, to apply that wondrous 
 
 process And so to-day, and through all 
 
 time, in all that makes the Bible the power of God 
 unto salvation, it is the Voice of God, the Word of 
 God, the supreme, the only infallible authority." 
 
 It will seem incredible to a future generation that a 
 man holding such a doctrine of inspiration should be re- 
 garded with suspicion, and denounced as a rationalist, 
 because he refused to affirm the extra confessional doc- 
 trine of inerrancy. But such was the case. The 
 spirit of heresy-hunting was let loose, and no piety, 
 scholarship, or services were enough to protect from 
 its attacks. 
 
 It will be readily understood that Dr. Evans watched 
 with intense interest the course of controversy. After 
 the publication of his paper he had little to say. But 
 he visited Detroit and was an interested spectator of 
 the General Assembly, which disapproved the election 
 of Dr. Briggs. His attitude in this whole matter is 
 
62 LLEWEYLN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 well indicated by the following found among his 
 papers : 
 
 HERESY HUNTING. 
 
 For truth's worst foe is he who claims 
 
 To act as God's avenger, 
 And deems beyond his sentry-beat 
 
 The crystal walls in danger. 
 Who sets for heresy his trap 
 
 Of verbal quirk and quibble, 
 And weeds the garden of the Lord 
 
 With Satan's borrowed dibble. 
 
 The overwhelming majority by which Dr. Briggs was 
 disapproved in this Assembly and the continuance of 
 attack by the denominational press led Dr. Evans to 
 look with favor upon a call from the Theological Col- 
 lege at Bala, Wales — the place of his early studies. 
 Previous attempts had been made to call him to his 
 native country and had been unsuccessful. This one 
 came with special strength, first, because it was given 
 after the publication of the paper on Biblical Scholar- 
 ship, and with the assurance that the views there ex- 
 pressed would be no bar to his usefulness. In the 
 second place, it was warmly urged by the distinguished 
 Principal Edwards, with whom he had been on terms 
 of intimate friendship for many years. In the third 
 place, his experience of the climate of Wales at his 
 recent visit gave him the most favorable anticipations 
 as to his health. Finally, (and there is reason to 
 believe that this reason was the decisive one) he had 
 reason to hope that in his new position he would be 
 favorably situated for study and the completion of his 
 literary work. Discussion of theological questions he 
 enjoyed. But for the polemics of the religious (!) press 
 with its insinuations of ' unsoundness' and 'false teach- 
 ing' he had no taste. For these reasons he accepted 
 the call in the autumn of 1891. Had his health been 
 firm there is no reason to doubt that he would have 
 
CLOSING YEARS. 6$ 
 
 preferred to remain in this county and fight the battle 
 of a comprehensive and generous Presbyterianism. 
 
 As it was, he probably underrated the strain he 
 would undergo in leaving this country. His affection- 
 ate nature had struck its roots deep in the soil where 
 it had been planted nearly thirty-five years. He had 
 testified to his love for the Seminary on more than one 
 occasion. The activities of a lifetime had centered about 
 this institution. His health might not have suffered so 
 much had it not been for the grippe which attacked him 
 late in 1891. He did not seem to regain his strength 
 after this attack. March 15, the Trustees of the Sem- 
 inary met and accepted his resignation. In April came 
 an additional strain in the death of a little boy (son of 
 the present writer) to whom he was much attached. 
 It is not necessary to linger over the remaining weeks — 
 the leave-taking, the voyage, the meeting with friends 
 in Wales, and the severe attacks from which he suffered. 
 At times he seemed to improve. The house at Bala 
 was taken and furnished. In the large garden he spent 
 many happy hours and in his stronger days he would drive 
 about the beautiful country. He was enthusiastically 
 welcomed by old and new friends. A public meeting 
 of welcome was held, at which however he was not able 
 to be present. Soon after landing he suffered from a 
 severe attack of angina pectoris. The alarm of the phy- 
 sicians caused Mrs. Evans to cry out in the anguish of 
 her heart: "do not leave me," with other words of 
 grief. In Christian trust he said : (speaking with diffi- 
 culty) "it is as the Lord wills; if His time has come I 
 am ready to go." He then calmly gave her his mes- 
 sages for the son, absent at school. From this at- 
 tack he rallied and seemed to be gaining. Two days 
 before his death he wrote a bright and hopeful letter to 
 his son, speaking of his feeling that he had really begun 
 
64 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 to gain. Sunday, July 24, he was planning for his 
 work, and spent a part of the day in the sunny garden. 
 He spoke of writing letters but deferred it until he 
 should be a little stronger. Late at night another se- 
 vere paroxysm came on and refused to yield to any 
 remedies, After great suffering he became unconscious 
 and early in the morning of July 25, 1892, his loving 
 loyal spirit departed to meet the Saviour of his love — 
 the Saviour whom he had served so well. The frail house 
 of clay was brought back to this country and rests near 
 the scene of his earthly labors. 
 
 Ecclesiastical bodies in this country and in Great 
 Britain passed resolutions honoring his memory. Per- 
 sonal friends and those who had known him through 
 his writings, published tributes to his memory on both 
 sides of the sea. Numerous letters assured the bereaved 
 wife and son of love and sympathy. How little such 
 efforts can accomplish, none realize better than their 
 authors. The lesson of a life like his must be felt 
 rather than expressed. The deep sense of personal loss 
 testified by many friends, shows how distinctly the les- 
 son was felt in his case. He was our friend: the 
 heartache does not stop to analyze its sensations. I 
 
 But, if we can not analyze the grief, we can draw 
 one or two obvious conclusions. Friendship is the re- 
 sult of personal character and personal character may 
 help and stimulate those who come in contact with it. 
 In the case of Dr. Evans, we must remember some 
 things which will be a joy and help to us so long as we 
 live. For one thing he was thoroughly and transpar- 
 ently sincere. "Clear your mind of cant," he used 
 often to quote from Dr. Johnson. Few men have so 
 successfully kept their minds clear of cant. This was 
 true of him intellectually, as well as spiritually. Intel- 
 lectually he sought the truth, the reality of things. "In 
 
CLOSING YEARS. 65 
 
 the study of Biblical questions, which my vocation has 
 made necessary, I have both striven to keep an open 
 mind, and earnestly sought the guidance of a wisdom 
 higher than my own." This sentence from his last 
 great work defines his whole intellectual attitude. And 
 spiritually, he showed the same sincerity. Guilelessness 
 was so thoroughly his own attitude that he could not 
 suspect another of a willingness to deceive. In his 
 business dealings with men this was to his disadvantage, 
 for he could not be made to see the necessity of ordi- 
 nary checks and precautions. 
 
 The manysidedness of his character was coupled 
 with a modesty that sometimes seemed to his friends 
 excessive. This was not bashfulness, which is often 
 self-conceit, but it was self-forgetfulness, unconscious- 
 ness that he was in any sense superior to others, with 
 frank and generous appreciation of all that was good 
 in them. With this went unvarying cheerfulness of 
 mood. His merry times were not offset by times of 
 depression. Even in severe illness and when unex- 
 pected misfortune came upon him, he never lost the 
 habit of looking at the bright side. Quiet heroism 
 marked the severe attacks which came towards the. close 
 of life, and those nearest to him never heard a murmur 
 of impatience. 
 
 The root of these graces was deep and fervent piety. 
 His faith was fixed upon his Lord Christ, as, following 
 Luther, he loved to call him. Supreme loyalty to him 
 was the spring of his daily life. Like Paul, his great 
 aim was to know Christ. Hence, intellectually, he 
 made all knowledge tributary to this. His daily study 
 was a joy to him, because it concerned itself with the 
 life of his Lord. But spiritually also he fed on this life. 
 His was no mere philosophical or historical construction 
 of the facts he studied. He applied them in his own 
 
66 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 life. He grew into the divine life as he apprehended 
 it. One of his students, the last year of his life (a 
 young man from Japan) asked him one day in the class, 
 " how he had attained such holiness." The question 
 shows the deep impression made by Dr. Evans' spir- 
 itual life upon those brought under his influence. 
 "Personal Christianity," was the subject of his last 
 address before Lane Seminary, and it sums up the pur- 
 pose of his life. A result of this supreme loyalty to 
 Christ, was ardent affection for the Scriptures, which 
 contain the word of Christ. " If there is anything in 
 which my whole being is wrapped up, it is the study 
 and teaching of the Word of God. If there is any. 
 thing that I love with every fibre of my every heart- 
 string, it is that blessed old book. If there is anything 
 for which, so far as I know myself, I would gladly lay 
 down my life, it is that this book may be known and 
 read throughout the length and breadth of the world, 
 as the guide of lost souls to heaven." Such was his 
 language at the time when he knew he would be ac- 
 cused of "attacking the Bible," and no one who knew 
 him could doubt the truth of the avowal. 
 
 Of intellectual endowments — keen and brilliant power 
 of acquisition, critical insight, philosophic breadth, 
 vividness of imagination, richness of expression, felicity 
 of style, the power of picturesque arrangement of 
 thought — of these I will not speak. One quality came 
 out conspicuously in the late controversy — the courage 
 of conviction. Dr. Evans might have excused himself 
 from coming to the defense of an unpopular cause. 
 His health was not firm. He had been warned to 
 avoid excitement and exertion. He knew the temper 
 of his audience. He might have pleaded that he must 
 not imperil the popularity of the seminary. But when 
 he saw clearly (as he did from the beginning) that 
 
CLOSING YEARS. 6j 
 
 freedom of teaching was endangered, he had no more 
 question. What he could do to save the church from 
 self-stultification should be done, regardless of majori- 
 ties. 
 
 And with this steadfastness was joined a living hope 
 for the future. Among the cherished words he spoke 
 none are more cherished than his words of comfort and 
 hope over the grave, as it seemed to swallow up the 
 joy of life. His affection was fixed upon a living 
 Christ, and by the eye of faith he seemed to see Him 
 and to direct the look of others to the same bright 
 vision. "It is not our loved ones," he said, "who 
 have been translated into that life, who should be 
 called 'the dead' or 'the dying.' We are the dead, 
 we are the dying, for what is our life here but a con- 
 tinual dying, a being unclothed that we may be clothed 
 upon? Let us not think of our departed loved ones as 
 dwelling in the darkness of the tomb. Let us not seek 
 our living among the dead." This, a part of his last 
 public utterance, comforts us in our bereavement, and 
 teaches us to look forward to the time, when with him, 
 we shall live that larger, higher life. 
 
NOTE. 
 
 The following sermons have been chosen with the 
 aim of exhibiting various sides of Professor Evans' 
 thought. Some favorites asked for by friends could 
 not be included because the manuscript was imperfect. 
 In some instances a word has been supplied (as in the 
 quotations already given in the biographical sketch) and 
 indicated by [square] brackets. 
 
 All who read the book are under especial obligation 
 to Mrs. F. E. Cone and the Rev. J. H. Cone, who pre- 
 pared the copy of the sermons for the printer. Mr. Cone 
 has also kindly read the proofs of the whole volume. 
 
 (68) 
 
SERMONS. 
 i. 
 
 FAITH, HOPE, LOVE. 
 
 I Corinthians 13: 13. And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the 
 greatest of these is charity. 
 
 Religion is an assemblage of great things. Its 
 sources are great: not cisterns but oceans, vast, un- 
 fathomable, deep crying unto deep. Its powers are 
 great, great with the energies of Omnipotence, with 
 the thunder-might of God. Its results are great; they 
 are commensurate with the purposes of Deity, and they 
 fill eternity. Greatness is for the most part a relative 
 term. There is indeed a greatness which is absolute, 
 independent of all comparison. Yet the greatness 
 even of realities which are positively such is known 
 through the relation which they sustain to our capaci- 
 ties. Greatness thus considered is that attribute of an 
 object which calls forth all the resources of the power, 
 or powers that have to do with it, which fills or more 
 than fills the measure of any capacity, causing it to 
 expand, constraining the mind to enlarge itself toward 
 it. There are objects and qualities toward which the 
 mind in its action upon them is constrained to contract 
 itself, to narrow itself down, as there are material ob- 
 jects, the minuteness of which requires that the organs 
 
 (69) 
 
70 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 which observe them and the powers which handle them 
 should reduce themselves as much as possible before 
 they can do much with them. 
 
 Again there are objects and qualities which just meet 
 the measure of the powers which operate them. Such 
 are most of the facts and objects with which we have 
 to do. They can neither be called great nor small. 
 They were not intended either to overwhelm us by their 
 greatness, or to evade us by their littleness. We can 
 not take our microscopes with us everywhere to hunt up 
 the small: neither can we carry our Archimedean 
 levers everywhere to overturn mountains or to move 
 worlds. We can not be always straining ourselves lift- 
 ing heavy weights ; we can not accomplish much if 
 we do nothing but pick up grains. God has therefore 
 made most of the usefuls of life neither great nor 
 small, but they may be easily handled, freely used, and 
 converted to our purpose. 
 
 There are some things which challenge the powers, 
 which draw out the capacities by which they are availa- 
 ble. They exceed the average magnitude and weight 
 of things with which we have to do. We are con- 
 scious of a strain on our faculties in our effort to grasp 
 and use them. They tax our resources to the full. 
 They excite our desires and aspirations : they stimulate 
 the outreachings of our powers. These we call great. 
 
 It is possible for a man by constant intercourse with 
 the little to have his views and powers contracted, until 
 the small no longer seems such. One who has lived 
 among the mountains when he first settles down on a 
 rolling prairie feels contempt for the wavy hillocks 
 about him, but ere long familiarity breeds in this in- 
 stance something better than contempt. After a while 
 they become a tolerable substitute for the half-for- 
 gotten cloud-capped ranges far away. And so with 
 
SERMONS. 71 
 
 moral realities. One who has associated with men of 
 intelligence and moral worth, when he abandons their 
 society for that of the brutal and degraded, experiences 
 at first a feeling of revulsion — it may be of scorn : but 
 a few years lower his standard of taste and sympathy, 
 so that his present companions become great and good 
 enough for him. This is one of the curses of sin. It 
 brings down the soul to a state of insensibility in re- 
 spect to the moral littleness and unworthiness, of the 
 pursuits and characters with which it becomes iden- 
 tified. 
 
 On the contrary it is possible for any sense intellect- 
 ual or moral, to grow, and for the views which come 
 through it to be enlarged, until that which, at the first 
 seems great, presently becomes familiar, and soon 
 small. That which seems great, I say, for to the thought- 
 ful and sympathetic observer, the truly great never 
 becomes familiar, still less small. Things which are 
 essentially great are great always to the soul that 
 understands them. But that which is relatively great, 
 which is great only for the time, and in relation to our 
 present stage of development will, in a more advanced 
 stage, be rightly regarded as of less importance. This 
 principle is involved in the argument of which the text 
 is a part. " Charity never faileth: but whether there 
 be prophecies, they shall fail : whether there be tongues 
 they shall cease : whether there be knowledge it shall 
 vanish away. For we know in part, and we prophesy 
 in part. But when that which is perfect is come, then 
 that which is in part shall be done away. When I 
 was a child I spake as a child, I understood as a child, 
 I thought as a child : but when I became a man I put 
 away childish things. For now we see through a glass 
 darkly, but then face to face : now I know in part, but 
 then shall I know even as also I am known. And now 
 
72 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 abideth faith, hope, charity, these three : but the great- 
 est of these is charity." The gift of prophecy, the 
 gift of tongues, the gift of science, however great and 
 important they may be, at a certain point, can not be 
 carried up through all the stages of Christian develop- 
 ment. They belong to the period of childhood; we 
 go beyond them ; they are partial and temporary ; they 
 are to give way to that which is perfect. But faith, 
 hope, love, are great always ; they abide forever. We 
 can grow up to the former, we can come up to their 
 altitude ; we may grow yet higher, until we look down 
 on them ; we may outgrow them, until we think them 
 small, as the man outgrows the thoughts, feelings and 
 ambitions of the child. But there are things which we 
 are never to outgrow, which rise as we rise, which tower 
 always above us, as when, in climbing a mountain, the 
 sky remains no less high, the stars no less distant than 
 before. They grow as we grow; as we increase in 
 strength, they increase in weight ; they always require 
 effort, energy, to possess and to use them. To receive 
 them the mind must always expand itself. To employ 
 them our powers must always exert themselves. These 
 realities, experiences and exercises deserve to be 
 called great. They abide in their grandeur, their power 
 and their supremacy. " Now abideth faith, hope, char- 
 ity, these three." all of which are great, all of which are 
 eternal, " but the greatest of these is charity." " And 
 now abideth Faith." This grace is permanent. It will 
 never pass away. It will never give way to anything 
 else. It will never become anything else. It will be 
 glorified, made perfect. For like every other perfection 
 it is here in its beginning, in its chrysalis state only. The 
 faith of the future will be to the faith of the present like 
 the winged butterfly to the creeping caterpillar. But it will 
 never lose its distinctive character. It will always be faith. 
 
SERMONS. 73 
 
 Take any definition of it that you will. Regard it in 
 its most restricted technical sense, as reliance on Christ. 
 Will the Christian ever lose that ? Will he ever cast it 
 away from him ? W T ill he ever remove himself from 
 that sure foundation, so tried, so precious, the Rock of 
 Ages ? Will he ever build on any other name ? Will he 
 ever out-grow his faith in the Redeemer ? How can he ? 
 He cannot undo that which has been done ; he cannot 
 change the past ; he cannot dispose of the fact that he 
 was a sinner, ruined, lost, not to be saved without an 
 atonement; that such an atonement has been made; 
 that he was saved only by accepting that atonement, by 
 appropriating Christ ; that he was received only through 
 the mediation and intercession of Christ ; that it was 
 through his merits that he entered heaven, and enjoyed 
 the favor of God and that he stands before God accepted 
 in the Beloved. These facts he will never be able to 
 change; and how can he forego his reliance on Christ? 
 And even if he could, think you that he would ? The 
 Saviour who visited him in his distress, who pitied him 
 in his misery, who strengthened him in his weakness, 
 who healed him in his disorders, whose right hand sup- 
 ported him in all dangers, and brought him at last to 
 heaven — is it possible that the Christian should ever 
 give him up and fall back to rely on himself? Will the 
 time ever come, when he will wish to say, Christ was 
 my salvation, but he is no longer ; he was my righteous- 
 ness, but he is no longer; he was my mediator and 
 advocate before God, but I have no further need of him. 
 I can appear for myself, and plead my own cause. 
 No ! through all eternity, Christ will be to the saints, all 
 the foundation of their hope, the rock of their faith. 
 In this sense it will be true forever that ' ' Faith abideth. " 
 
 Take the more general view of faith, as trust in God. 
 Will God ever change ? Will he be less worthy of your 
 
74 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 trust? Shall we ever become independent of his sup- 
 port? Is not his kingdom an everlasting kingdom, and 
 is not his will the ground of all our hopes and plans ? 
 Will not our success and our blessedness depend for- 
 ever on the personal superintendence exerted by God 
 over our individual interests? Is not this God our guide 
 forever and ever ? It is true that if we are sons of God, 
 dangers which encompass us here will one day be left 
 behind, that we shall be secure from harm ; but why ? 
 Because we are nearer to God, but being nearer shall we 
 trust him any the less? The child when beset by dan- 
 ger flees to his father for safety, because he trusts in 
 his power to save him, and all the time that the danger 
 threatens him, nestling in his father's arms he trusts him 
 and feels secure. But when the danger is past and 
 when his father still holds him to his heart and causes 
 him to forget his fears by soothing words and loving 
 embracements, does he cease trusting his father? And 
 how can the child of God, when his father takes him 
 home to himself, and bestows on him crowns of glory 
 and rejoicing, wiping away all tears from his eyes, and 
 surrounding him with the embraces of eternal love; — 
 how can the child ever forget to trust the father ? 
 
 Take a still more general conception of faith, that 
 which is presented in the Bible statement, "Faith is 
 the substance (certainty) of things hoped for, the evidence 
 (conviction) of things not seen." In this sense at least 
 it is supposed by many that the functions of faith will 
 some time cease. There will be no further occasion for 
 its exercise when the things which we now hope for 
 are possessed, and when the things which are now un- 
 seen become objects of immediate contemplation and 
 enjoyment. But this supposition assumes that all the 
 objects of faith and hope, all the unseen realities toward 
 which the heart goes forth in expectation, desire, and 
 
SERMONS. 75 
 
 love, will become visible, tangible possessions, that they 
 will all become ours in a sense different from what they are 
 now. Certainly this is true in respect to many of those 
 realities, but not in respect to all. However much the 
 sphere of possession may enlarge, there will always re- 
 main a beyond. The larger the horizon of sight, the 
 larger the firmament of faith. It is true that some ob- 
 jects of faith become objects of sight and knowledge, 
 but it must be remembered that the objects of faith are 
 at the same time multiplied. For everything that is 
 seen or known brings with it something new to be be- 
 lieved. 
 
 Still further; the enlargement and elevation of knowl- 
 edge, gives greater dignity and nobleness, to the power 
 of faith. The child believes many things on testimony 
 and on the authority of others, which when he has 
 grown to be a man he finds of his own knowledge to be 
 true ; and the enlarged and enlightened knowledge of his 
 manhood contains many things that were not contained 
 either in the knowledge or faith of earlier years ; but he 
 also finds more to believe, and how much nobler and 
 better after all the faith of the man, when real and vital, 
 than that of the child ! How much more intelligent, 
 expansive, inspiring ! The same will be true forever. 
 With the extension of the powers, with the increase of 
 the knowledge, and the greater breadth and depth of 
 the soul's life, its faith will embrace more, appropriate 
 more, bring more in, and send more out. It will be- 
 come a more exalted power, investing man and his life 
 with greater nobleness, and crowning him with greater 
 blessedness. But as I have already intimated there are 
 realities which must ever remain objects of faith, which 
 can never be otherwise possessed. 
 
 All that pertains to the interior character and glory 
 of God, all that can not be revealed immediately to the 
 
j6 LLEWEtYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 mind as the light is revealed to the eye, all truths, prin- 
 ciples, laws, which can only be symbolized or shadowed 
 forth, these must always continue to be apprehended 
 and appropriated through faith. And in the future 
 — in heaven — realities such as these will be indefinitely 
 multiplied. We seem oftentimes to entertain very 
 gross and sensual conceptions of the heavenly life and 
 of the realities with which it communes. We call them 
 spiritual, it is true, but we use the word in a vague, 
 general way, to indicate simply that the objects, pur- 
 suits and enjoyments of heaven, are much more ethereal 
 than those of earth. The life of heaven we regard as 
 essentially a life of sight — of direct contemplation, of 
 tangible possession and enjoyment. Now, it is un- 
 doubtedly true that more — much more — will be brought 
 within our immediate reach than here. With the ren- 
 ovation of all the powers of body and mind, which will 
 follow the resurrection and our introduction into another 
 sphere, will come the multiplication of those things 
 with which we can directly communicate. We shall 
 come into close contact with many more realities and 
 facts there than here, we shall see more, hear more, 
 of the facts and realities of being. But is this the 
 only or principal gain which we may look for in the 
 future ? By no means. It is not in the circle of per- 
 ception that the greatest enlargement is to take place. 
 We must remember that in heaven as in earth, we are 
 to have a two-fold nature ; a material nature, refined, it 
 is true, purified, immeasurably elevated above any we 
 have now, and brought into the closest sympathy with 
 the higher nature, but still material; and the higher or 
 spiritual nature, also renewed, enlarged, prepared for 
 a higher and more glorious career. There will be the 
 spirit and the spiritual body of which Paul speaks. 
 And corresponding to this two-fold nature, there will 
 
SERMONS. 77 
 
 be a tv/o-Fold heaven — a sensible heaven and a spiritual 
 heaven ; a world of glory and beauty and joy, appeal- 
 ing to the lower of our two natures, to the spiritual 
 body, and a nobler world of grander glory, of diviner 
 beauty, and more spiritual joy, appealing to the higher. 
 Now, there are many whose anticipations of future 
 blessedness do not reach much higher than the lower, 
 the sensible heaven. They think of it as a Paradise of 
 flowers and fruits, and groves and odors unknown to 
 earthly climes, a magnificent expanse of sublimity and 
 loveliness, flooded with perpetual sunshine, thronged 
 with hosts in shining white, melodious with the harping 
 and songs of joyous worshipers, who spend their eter- 
 nity in the immediate contemplation of God, and in per- 
 sonal communion with the Lamb that sitteth on the 
 throne. Now, there can be no doubt, as I have al- 
 ready said, that heaven will be a glorious place for 
 eye and ear, and for every perceptive and receptive fac- 
 ulty. The love of visible beauty, harmony and sub- 
 limity will be gratified there in a manner and degree 
 beyond all our present conceptions. There will be 
 personal fellowship with Christ, and a face to face be- 
 holding of specific manifestations of God's glory, of 
 which all earthly manifestations are dim foreshadow- 
 ings, as the morning star prophesies the sun. But all 
 this will be but the threshold of heaven; the outer 
 porch of the temple. Beyond all this will be the 
 inner courts and the Holy of Holies. The highest 
 glory of heaven will be the spiritual. It will be a 
 world for the heart, the soul, the affections, the aspira- 
 tions, the intuitions, the spiritual powers, the sancti- 
 fied reason, the glorified imagination, which reach be- 
 yond all that is immediately present, which soar on 
 the wings of the morning, and take their flight into 
 the shadow of the infinite and plunge into the depths 
 
78 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 of the eternal, thence to bring up treasures for the 
 heart to cherish and to love. It is a world for the 
 higher nature of man to which faith belongs, of 
 which faith is a ruling power. Faith itself will be a 
 much nobler, more exalted, more productive power 
 than here. 
 
 It will substantiate its objects with much greater clear- 
 ness. It will realize them much more fully and satis- 
 factorily. It will be accompanied with greater certainty, 
 for certainty belongs to Faith as well as sight. And in 
 this sense heaven will be a world of clearer apprehen- 
 sion, and in one sense we may call it a world of sight, 
 because it will be a world of greater certainty. In this 
 sense faith will change to sight. What we believe here 
 with so much wavering and doubting that we must pray 
 continually — Lord, I believe, help thou mine unbelief — 
 we shall there believe as though we saw it. 
 
 "Now also abideth hope." Hope is permanent no 
 less than faith. As long as there is a future before 
 man, and as long as there is in that future a good to be 
 desired and attained, there must be hope. Hope stim- 
 ulates to action, sustains life. It is the soul's oxygen. It 
 keeps it from being asphyxiated, from falling into spiritual 
 torpor. It keeps man well up in the line of duty, spurs 
 him to rise higher and to possess more. It links the 
 present to the future, the lower to the higher, that 
 which man has, to that which he has not. You some- 
 times sing "Hope will change to glad fruition." 
 What do these words mean ? Do they mean that here- 
 after we shall enjoy much for which we can only hope 
 here ? Do they mean that as soon as you reach heaven 
 you will get all you hope for here, and that there will 
 be nothing more to be hoped for? The Bible teaches 
 nothing of that sort. Think a minute what such a 
 doctrine implies. 
 
SERMONS. 79 
 
 In heaven is all activity to cease, are we to have 
 nothing to do there but to sit down on seats of ease, 
 on thrones of state, and drink out of the cups of joy 
 already poured out for those who reach the place ? Is 
 all possession to cease, is there to be no looking for- 
 ward, no future, nothing but an everlasting Now? Is 
 there to be no looking and climbing upward, no as- 
 spiration, nothing but a placid looking down from the 
 lofty pedestals on which like stylites we are to stand 
 forever? Is there not to be gathering in of new treas- 
 ures, nothing but brooding like misers over the old ? Is 
 there to be no sowing and reaping, nothing but stand- 
 ing guard over fruits of past husbandry and harvest- 
 ing ? If so — then of course hope will be unnecessary ; 
 for "the hope that is seen is not hope: for what a 
 man seeth why doth he yet hope for? " But that is not 
 heaven. When the Bible teaches that your life is hid 
 with Christ in God — we know not yet what we shall 
 be — that here we know in part, but there we shall 
 know even as we are known, it teaches that the life of 
 heaven is to be more truly life than the present if it be 
 more distinctively a spiritual life, a life of faith, a life 
 of upward soaring and of forward reaching after that 
 which is above and beyond, a life of more intimate 
 communion with the unseen. That is to say it will be a 
 life of hope, a hope as much more exalted and inspir- 
 ing than that which now encourages us, as the good 
 which is there to be enjoyed and there to be longed 
 for, surpasses all of which we have yet had any knowl- 
 edge. And if here a life of hope, and of earnest 
 waiting, of joyous expectation, of persevering progress, 
 is nobler than a life of sluggish inertness, of dreamy 
 sleepiness, of shallow contentedness, then most as- 
 suredly will a life of purer endeavor, of more blissful 
 anticipation, of more earnest purpose, of more joyous 
 
80 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 assurance, sustained by a richer experience of Divine 
 love, surrounded by still more manifest encourage- 
 ments of Divine favor, be nobler than a state of quies- 
 cent rest, of ruminating enjoyment, of blissful self- 
 absorption, even in heaven. Faith and Hope have a 
 perennial greatness, that can never pass away. The 
 mind's possessions in the realms of both is boundless. 
 The prospects which they reveal to us are most cheer- 
 ing and glorious. The life which they inspire is by far 
 the worthiest of which we can have any conception. 
 The deeds to which they influence us are the grandest 
 that lie within the compass of human performance. 
 The results which they bring are the most satisfactory 
 and imperishable of all which the soul can call its 
 own. 
 
 But great as are faith and hope, Love is greater. 
 "And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three: 
 but the greatest of these is charity. Faith and Hope 
 are of the royal household, but Love is queen. 
 
 Let us consider in what respects Love is greatest. 
 
 In the first place, Love in its largest exercise includes 
 Faith and Hope. It is their condition', the root of their 
 exercise. Without Love, either is impossible. There 
 is indeed a lower exercise of Faith which does not 
 proceed from love, as when it is said of the devils that 
 they believe and tremble. That however is an exercise 
 which is hardly deserving of the name Faith. It is 
 simply the assent of the intellect to a fact which cannot 
 be denied. It is extorted, compulsory. The evidence of 
 that which is believed, is too overwhelming to be resisted ; 
 it crushes the soul into silence. The mind can no more 
 help believing it, and admitting its existence than the 
 eye can help seeing when the image is formed on the 
 retina, or than the sensorium can help feeling, when 
 the nerves are affected by any cause producing pleasure 
 
SERMONS. 8 1 
 
 or pain. There is no merit, no nobleness about that. 
 That is not Christian faith. 
 
 This is voluntary. It is active, not passive. 
 
 It unites itself to its object, clasps it, embraces it, 
 clings to it, saying to it — " Mine, mine forever! " And 
 in other feelings or rather in another phase of the same 
 feeling — "Thine, thine forever! " Now it says of God 
 — "He is mine," and again it says to God, "I am 
 thine." Now it says of Christ, "Mine !" and then it calls 
 out to him — "Thine !," But this you see is very much 
 like love. It is just such language as love uses. It is 
 indeed of the very essence of love. One cannot thus 
 speak, feel, or act toward an object, unless he has first 
 loved it. One cannot thus cast himself on another, 
 surrender himself to another, identify himself with an- 
 other, without loving him. One cannot thus dwell on 
 any reality, calling it up continually before the mind, 
 feeding the soul on its beauty and fullness, until it be- 
 comes vividly, constantly, and indispensably present, 
 unless one has first loved it. On the other hand one 
 cannot love an object without exercising faith in it. If 
 it were not trustworthy, it could not be loved; and being 
 loved it must needs be trusted, it must receive the 
 affectionate reliance of the heart. One is a faith work- 
 ing by love, the other is a love working by faith. 
 
 In like manner it may be said that love includes hope. 
 If a man love God, he will hope to know more and 
 more of him, to come into more intimate communion 
 with him. If a man love Christ he will hope to see 
 more of his glory, to taste more of his goodness and 
 preciousness, to partake more of his image. If a man 
 love the Holy Spirit, he will hope for a larger outpour- 
 ing of his grace, and for a fuller indwelling of his pres- 
 ence. If a man love his fellows he will hope in their 
 behalf for their progress and prosperity, and for new 
 
82 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 opportunities of aiding and serving them. If a man love 
 the Church of God he will hope for its growth. If he 
 love his work he will hope for success. If a man love 
 holiness, he will hope for more and more of partici- 
 pation in its life and blessings. As was remarked of 
 Christian faith, so it may be remarked of Christian hope; 
 it is a hope working by love, and a love working by 
 hope. 
 
 Secondly : the superiority of Love to Faith and Hope, 
 may be seen in the fact that Love is the end to which 
 the others minister. It is true that all the other graces, 
 faith and hope, depend on Love, as the light of the 
 lamp depends on the oil that feeds it. Take love away, 
 and all would perish. To quench love, and then bid 
 men to believe or hope would be like dividing the main 
 artery, and expecting the heart to keep on beating. 
 But it is just as true that love is the end, as that it is 
 the source of all other graces. Faith and Hope are 
 appropriative powers in the spiritual life. They are 
 faculties of acquisition. It is their nature to take pos- 
 session of those great and blessed realities, which are 
 essential to our life, to hold them for the soul's benefit, 
 to obtain out of them nourishment, strength and joy. 
 Their action is mostly reflexive, tending back to our- 
 selves. But man was not made for himself. He was 
 not made to gather up treasures for his own use and 
 delight only. Appropriation and possession are not 
 the end of his living. The treasures which he possesses 
 are to be bestowed again. The strength which he ac- 
 quires is to be used again. The joy which flows in 
 upon him, must flow out from him again. And it is in 
 that which goeth out from a man that his true life con- 
 sists. It is here that we look for character, personality, 
 influence, holiness, in their largest measure, and in their 
 ripest results. It is here that the image of God shines 
 
SERMONS. 83 
 
 forth with the greatest brightness, and that God's glory 
 in man is most abundantly revealed. And this brings 
 me to remark : 
 
 Finally, the greatest of all graces is love, because it 
 is most Godlike. What is the character of God? Is 
 it that of a being who lives only in himself, who is ab- 
 sorbed in the contemplation of his infinite perfections, 
 who concentrates all his energies in the production of 
 his own happiness? What is the life of God? Is it 
 that of acquisition, of ingathering, of self-ministration ? 
 Is he an infinite vortex into which all things are drawn 
 and in which all things are lost? t Nay! call him rather 
 an infinite Heaven, eternal in its depth, inexhaustible 
 in its fullness, forever pouring forth streams of health, 
 of power and of joy. Call him the great central sun 
 of all existence, who radiates light and life and blessed- 
 ness to the uttermost recesses of being. The life of 
 God is one of communication, of inspiration. He is, 
 as the Apostle James calls him, "The giving God." 
 He is forever bestowing himself and whatever is best 
 and most precious in himself on others. It is true that 
 all things are in him and through him and for him; 
 that he has created all things for his own glory. But 
 what does this mean ? Is it to make them the subjects 
 of arbitrary regulations, which look only to his own 
 gratification and exaltation ? Far from it. To say that 
 God has made all for his glory, whatever else it may 
 mean, means more than all else, that he has made all 
 for his love, for love is the glory of God. He glorifies 
 himself by glorifying his love. He created all in love. 
 We acknowledge no necessity in God to create, other 
 than the necessity of loving. It is no evidence of im- 
 perfection in him that he desired (I had almost said 
 yearned) to be surrounded by a universe of holy beings, 
 in whom his glory might be reflected, whom he might 
 
84 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 love, and who might find their highest joy in imitating 
 and responding to his love. It was much rather an evi- 
 dence of his perfection. And now, having created such 
 beings, his ever blessed life accomplishes itself in the 
 perpetual communication of his fullness to them. The 
 life of God is a life of giving, a life of love. Yea, in 
 the incarnation of Christ, it reveals itself as a life of 
 service. He, the highest of all, appears in Christ as 
 the servant of all. I say then that a life of love, a life 
 of self-surrender, of self-forgetfulness, of self-sacrifice, of 
 humble and affectionate service, of devotion to the well 
 being of others, and, of consecration to the glory of 
 God is the most Godlike life possible to man. By 
 such a life we become like our Father in heaven. He 
 is pleased with our faith and he deserves to be trusted, 
 but in his own life he has no need of faith. He takes 
 delight in our hope, he invites us to hope and encour- 
 ages its exercise ; but he himself is above hope. But 
 he is especially pleased with our love, for God himself 
 is love ; and in nothing is his infinite greatness more 
 shown than in his infinite love. Now, therefore, there 
 abideth faith hope, love, these three, but the greatest of 
 these is love, for God is Love. 
 
 And now, behold these three witnesses for the truth 
 of God, essential, irresistible, eternal. Faith, Hope, 
 Love, glorious Trinity of graces! What a testimony 
 they furnish to the Divine origin of the gospel, to its 
 power and perpetuity ! How triumphantly they vindi- 
 cate the adaptation of Christianity to man's nature, its 
 fitness to be the determining factor of his destiny ! 
 What other system, what other religion is there which 
 can give such vitality and potency to these exalted ex- 
 ercises? How does faith fare outside of the gospel? 
 It can scarcely be said to exist. Scarcely a trace of its 
 presence can be found. It is overpowered by the do- 
 
SERMONS. 85 
 
 minion of sense. There it wages a fruitless struggle 
 with unbelief, fruitless because it finds so little to jus- 
 tify or to support it. In one system it is contemptu- 
 ously set aside, its place usurped by science, falsely so- 
 called — everything is refused which can not be under- 
 stood or accounted for. In another system it is per- 
 verted to superstition, the victims of which believe 
 only in that which makes the soul crouch and cower 
 in abject servility. In another system yet, it runs into 
 fanaticism, which may indeed inspire the soul for a 
 time, but which, at the same time, intoxicates it; be- 
 wildering its vision and disturbing its equilibrium, while 
 the intoxication lasts, leaving the soul prostrate, imbe- 
 cile, helpless, when it is gone. How does hope fare 
 without the gospel? There is no hope. It is the lit- 
 eral truth which Paul affirms of the heathen that "they 
 are without hope." That light which shines in the 
 uplifted eye as the fore gleam of heaven, that looks 
 into futurity, which shines with the anticipation of 
 the glory to be revealed, is not to be found where 
 Christ is unknown. To the world which has never re- 
 joiced in the life and immortality brought in through 
 the gospel, the future is a blank, a vacuity, if not an 
 abyss of despair. Its hope is at best a sickly senti- 
 ment, a blind yearning, a longing agony ; while at the 
 worst, and to most it is a fitful dream, an elusive 
 phantom, a fatal mockery. How fares it with love 
 where Christ is a stranger ? It is stifled by doubt ; it 
 is driven out by fear ; it is paralyzed by unbelief; it is 
 consumed by the feverish tortures of superstition, or 
 crushed by the burdensome observances of self-right- 
 eousness. God is the unknown god; man to man is 
 an alien. 
 
 Nay, my hearers, that faith which makes the unseen 
 world a present reality, which makes man a seer of the 
 
86 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 invisible, which gives him the strength that comes 
 from communion with the Efernal, which is the victory 
 that overcometh the world, is the product of the Gos- 
 pel which bids man to believe and live. That hope 
 which makes him a denizen of two worlds, which con- 
 stitutes him the heir of immortality and incorruption, 
 of boundless being and of endless life, that hope by 
 which in a world of doubt and darkness we are saved, 
 is the gift of the Comforter, whose voice brings glad 
 tidings to the nations. That love which is the blessed 
 fulfillment of the law, which embraces God, which 
 clasps the world, which annihilates self, which conquers 
 death, which triumphs over the grave, is shed abroad in 
 our hearts by that Holy Ghost, the gift of which makes 
 the gospel the power of God unto salvation. These 
 are, one and all, the fruits of the cross of our Lord 
 Jesus Christ. These are powers of the world to come, 
 of that glorious gospel dispensation which has come 
 upon us with the fullness of the blessing of the Infinite 
 God. And this is the gospel which is preached to 
 you to-day. It is the gospel preached by Paul, the 
 Apostle of Faith, who testifies : i ' 1 know whom I have 
 believed." " I live by the faith of the Son of God who 
 loved me and gave himself for me." It is the gospel 
 preached by Peter the Apostle of Hope, who ex- 
 claimed : * ' Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord 
 Jesus Christ, which according to his abundant mercy, 
 hath begotten us again into a living hope." It is the 
 gospel preached by John, the Apostle of Love, who 
 says: " We love him because he first loved us." il God 
 is love, and he that dwelleth in love, dwelleth in God, 
 and God in him." Nay, it is the gospel preached by 
 Him who is the trust, the hope, the love of all His peo- 
 ple to all eternity. He who is the author and finisher 
 of our faith, who is the ocean of our love, He is come 
 
SERMONS. 87 
 
 that we might have life and might have it more abund- 
 antly, for He fills our life here and our destiny here- 
 after, with the infinite possibilities of every grace and 
 privilege, and power, which finds its life in Himself. Oh, 
 the blessed gospel of Our Lord Jesus Christ! With 
 these essential, imperishable, Divine witnesses to its 
 truth, to the unsearchable riches of the grace which it 
 ministers here, to the ever increasing weight of glory 
 with which it crowns the hereafter, how mighty are the 
 appeals which it makes to us ! Is it not worthy of all 
 acceptation from us? Is it not the extreme of folly to 
 reject it? Is not this to rob our souls of the truest 
 life, of their most perfect growth, of their only bliss? 
 Let us open our hearts to receive it. Let us learn now 
 the precious exercises of the faith, the hope, the love, 
 which the gospel both gives and requires. Then will all 
 things be ours, life and death, things present and things 
 to come, all will be ours, and we shall be Christ's as 
 Christ is God's. 
 
II. 
 
 STRENGTH. 
 
 Ephesians 6: 10. " Finally my brethren, be strong in the Lord, and in the power 
 of his might." 
 
 One of the principal idols of this age is strength. 
 Some ages seem to have admired especially vastness, 
 size : witness the pyramids of Egypt, and the gigantic 
 monuments of Nineveh and Babylon. Others have 
 worshipped grace, beauty: witness the temples and 
 statues of Greece. Others have idolized grandeur, 
 pomp : witness Rome, its Pantheons, Amphitheaters, 
 festivals and triumphal processions. Ours bows the 
 knee to strength. A very significant indication is the 
 name by which it is sometimes called — "the age of 
 Iron." This name which the ancients applied in a 
 figurative sense to a former age is true in a literal sense 
 of ours. The manifold uses to which iron is now put 
 are highly characteristic of the times. Iron roads, 
 iron bridges, iron ships, iron houses, iron monuments, 
 iron ornaments — iron everywhere. Whatever the age 
 disbelieves in, it certainly believes in iron. And not 
 only in its material life must it have iron, but also 
 in man, in character. The representative man of 
 one of the leading nations of the world a few years 
 ago was known as the "Iron Duke." The represent- 
 ative man of the strongest power of to-day has beeii 
 (88) 
 
SERMONS. 89 
 
 called by his admirers the man of blood and iron. 
 The ideal man of the Age is the strong man. The 
 Bible, too, believes in strength. It teaches us that 
 there is such a thing as a strong Christian ; that the 
 strong Christian makes the strong man. As every man 
 ought to be a Christian, so every Christian ought to be 
 strong. "I bow my knee to the Father of our Lord 
 Jesus Christ that he would grant you according to the 
 riches of his glory to be strengthened with might by his 
 spirit in the inner man." " Watch ye: Stand fast in 
 the faith: quit you like men: be strong.'' "Thou, 
 therefore, my son, be strong in the grace which is in 
 Christ Jesus." " Finally, my brethren, be strong in the 
 Lord and in the power of his might." Let us consider 
 these exhortations : what, in the Christian sense espe- 
 cially, it is to be strong; then, why we are exhorted to 
 be strong in the Lord ; how Christ is the source of the 
 true strength of man. 
 
 1. What is it to be Strong f 
 
 In judging of strength we must not do it by compar- 
 ison only. There is in the physical world no absolute 
 standard of strength. We are not to judge of the 
 strength of one particular thing or class of things by 
 the strength of any other thing or class. We have no 
 right to require in everything the strength of iron. 
 The branch of a tree has not the strength of the beam 
 of an engine, but it does not follow that the branch is 
 weak. There is an immense comparative difference in 
 point of strength between the trunk of an oak and a 
 blade of grass, and yet the blade is strong no less than 
 the tree. It may even hold up its head through the 
 same tornado which lays the oak low. No one would 
 dream of requiring the leg of the spider to sustain the 
 weight which rests on that of the horse, and yet the 
 
gO LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 spider's leg is strong. We are to judge of the strength 
 of everything in view of its own uses and ends, and we 
 are to say that strength is the adaptation of every in- 
 dividual thing to sustain itself, and to secure the ends 
 of its existence amid the various forces by which it is 
 acted upon. Look at the tree. There is the trunk, 
 the branch, the leaf. There is also the strength of the 
 trunk, the strength of the branch, and the strength of 
 the leaf-stem. The strength of the trunk is its adap- 
 tation to sustain the weight of the whole tree, amid 
 all the forces which act upon it. The strength of the 
 branch again is its adaptation to support the lesser 
 weight of branchlets and leaves which it has to bear, and 
 to sustain itself amid the forces which act upon it. The 
 strength of the little stem by which the leaf hangs is 
 its adaptation to sustain the life, and to support the 
 weight of the leaf. Whenever either of these fails par- 
 tially to fulfill its functions, whenever the antagonistic 
 forces without overcome it, it thereby discovers itself 
 to be weak. Whenever the failure becomes entire, 
 whenever the hostile forces without gain a complete 
 mastery over the self-sustaining forces within, the indi- 
 vidual dies. Death is accordingly the extreme point of 
 weakness; utter failure to sustain one's self; final ex- 
 haustion. So also the strength of man is his adaptation 
 to sustain himself so as to answer the purposes of his 
 existence, and so of the component parts of man. 
 The strength of each faculty is its ability to main- 
 tain itself properly in its relations to all other fac- 
 ulties and forces, and to do all that can by right be re- 
 quired of it. A man's intellect is strong in proportion 
 to its ability to meet properly all the demands of truth. 
 A man's feelings are strong in proportion to their 
 power to satisfy the requirements made on them by 
 beauty, goodness and law. A man's will is strong when 
 
SERMONS. 9I 
 
 it holds its own amid opposing and contending forces, 
 and is not overpowered by them. A man's conscience 
 is strong when it keeps itself from being warped or 
 blunted. When either of these faculties fails in these 
 respects it is a sign of weakness, and man is so far 
 weak. When they all fail, when the whole man is ren- 
 dered utterly impotent to sustain himself in his true hu- 
 manity, to meet properly all his spiritual responsibili- 
 ties, he becomes dead. Spiritual death is extreme, 
 utter, spiritual weakness. 
 
 It follows that one indispensable condition of the 
 strength of any whole is the harmonious adaptation of 
 all its parts to their several ends. The strength of 
 the tree is made up of the strength of each branch, 
 branchlet, twig and stem. The strength of the body 
 depends on the strength of each of its parts. He is not 
 the strong man, who has a stalwart arm and a weak 
 spine ; nor he who has strong muscles and weak nerves ; 
 but he who is strong throughout, every limb, muscle, 
 and nerve of whom is adequate to its functions. And 
 here we are liable to be imposed upon, we are often in 
 danger of being misled by special results, and to account 
 that strength, which in reality is weakness, or at least 
 the consequence of weakness. A gigantic forest-tree 
 falling with the crash of thunder, and crushing scores of 
 saplings, shrubs, and smaller trees around it, may for a 
 moment make a greater impression of strength than it 
 had ever made before; and yet the tree was really 
 stronger when it stood, proudly rearing its head in the 
 storm, flinging out defiantly its hundred arms so strong, 
 and sporting with the ineffectual winds. The crash of 
 its fall, and the ruin of its feebler brethren of the forest, 
 are the consequences of its final weakness, not the evi- 
 dence of greater strength. The explosion of a steam- 
 engine, the terrible concussion heard for miles around, 
 
92 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 and the scattering whirl ,of its thousand fragments, may 
 momentarily impress one with the idea of greater 
 strength of some sort ; and yet the engine was unques- 
 tionably stronger when every part worked steadily in its 
 place, and when the giant force was held in perfect 
 control and docile submission to the conditions put upon 
 it. In the explosion we see indeed the strength of the 
 steam, but the weakness of the engine. So a man may 
 give signs of an apparent strength, which is after all 
 weakness. One may show an impetuosity of spirit, 
 which sweeps along like a torrent, carrying everything 
 before it, and which may be accounted strength, 
 whereas, in reality it is nothing else than an eruption of 
 passion, which ought to be checked by the superior 
 force of will. Another may evince great apparent 
 strength of feeling of sympathy of some kind, which is 
 properly mere sentimental weakness arising from the 
 lack of a controlling power of intelligence. Another 
 may show a rigid inflexibility of will, which may be mis- 
 taken for strength, when in truth it is only the inertia 
 of a character lacking strength on the side of the finer 
 sensibilities. There have been men, especially in times 
 of revolution and anarchy — witness the French Revo- 
 lution — men who were reckoned, and are still reckoned 
 by man to possess great individual strength, simply be- 
 cause they lay all about them in ruins, although in 
 truth, the ruin was simply the result of their own 
 weakness to brave the storm. Their power, if such it 
 may be called, was that of a dead log, hurled by the 
 torrent which it has no strength to resist, not that of 
 the lightning, which in its own strength leaps out of the 
 cloud, and cleaves the tall pine in twain. 
 
 True strength then implies perfect self-control; that 
 man should be complete master of himself and be mas- 
 tered by nothing ; that all the component forces which 
 
SERMONS. 93 
 
 make up his being should be kept in harmony, and 
 held in rightful subordination to the great ends of his 
 existence. Whenever any one usurps the mastery over 
 the rest, it is a sign of weakness, and the man becomes 
 a slave. The strong man is the only free man. "He 
 that is slow to anger is better than the mighty ; and he 
 that ruleth his own spirit than he that taketh a city." 
 
 These general considerations will prepare us for the 
 Christian idea of strength. As Christianity is the 
 restoration of humanity to its original idea through a 
 special Divine agency, Christian strength must be the 
 true strength of man produced and developed in ac- 
 cordance with that Divine agency. We may say that 
 Christian strength is that which adapts man to act out 
 his true self, his regenerated self, amid and against all 
 counter forces from without, and at the same time to pi'e- 
 serve the inward harmony of all his powers, and of those 
 divine forces which accompany the new life in the soul. 
 Really as the true Christian alone is the true man, so 
 Christian strength is alone the true strength of man. 
 For sin makes man weak; it destroys his adaptation to 
 maintain and to live out his true self. He must be de- 
 livered from sin before he can become really strong, 
 and as Christ is man's salvation from sin, it follows that 
 Christ is the true strength of man. 
 
 But let us examine the matter a little more closely, 
 and consider some of the reasons why the apostle in 
 the text exhorted the Ephesians to "be strong in the 
 Lord and in the power of his might. 
 
 2. Christ is the true strength of mail. 
 
 1st. Because he establishes harmony within man. Sin 
 is discord, disunion, disorganization. It sets man at vari- 
 ance with himself. It makes two where God designed 
 there should be but one. In every department of hu- 
 
94 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 man nature, in every faculty of the soul, in thinking, 
 in feeling and in acting, we see this two-ness when there 
 should be one-ness, division where there ought to be 
 union. We see it in the intellectual nature of man. 
 His views of right are continually coming in conflict 
 with his views of expediency. Every day his convic- 
 tions of duty clash with his ideas of utility. The 
 path of integrity and the path of profit seem fre- 
 quently to cross each other at right angles. Some- 
 times right itself seems doubtful. Sometimes duty 
 itself seems divided. There seem to be two pole- 
 stars in his heavens, and he is often at a loss which 
 to take. The same division exists in his affections. 
 The Law of the Right pulls him by the one hand; 
 self-interest pulls him by the other. Truth shines be- 
 fore him with the quiet, beautiful light of a star; he 
 loves it — error gleams before him with the dazzling 
 brilliancy of a meteor; he is £ fascinated. Virtue ap- 
 pears to him in calm serene beauty, and he humbles 
 himself at her feet and swears eternal allegiance. Vice 
 follows with her pleasure-train, entangles him in her 
 wiles and lures him away from his first love and devo- 
 tion. He knows not his own heart. Not only are 
 there two poles in his heavens, but there are two mag- 
 nets in his vessel ; one points hither and one thither ; 
 which shall he follow? His will again seems divided. 
 Now he wills the right and now the wrong. At one 
 time he chooses virtue, again he chooses vice. Yester- 
 day he did an act of benevolence ; to-day he performs 
 an act of unmitigated selfishness. He has a double self 
 — as he has two pole-stars over head and two magnets 
 in his vessel, so also he has two rudders directing him ; 
 and alas ! for the most part, he chooses his evil star, 
 he follows the erring magnet, he obeys the Devil's 
 rudder and drifts away from God into the gulf of eternal 
 
SERMONS. 95 
 
 death. Such a division is of necessity weakness. A 
 ship which should have on board two different magnets, 
 pointing to two different poles, two opposing rudders, 
 two propelling engines, the one working against the 
 other, two sets of officers countermanding each other's 
 orders, could make no headway. It could accomplish no 
 voyage, it must inevitably be wrecked. A State which 
 should have two governments, two bodies of rulers, two 
 codes of laws, two supreme courts, irreconcilably op- 
 posed each to each, could have no internal strength ; it 
 must crumble to pieces. 
 
 An individual who should have two pairs of lungs, 
 one absorbing life into the blood, the other poison ; 
 two hearts, one diffusing the poisoned blood through 
 the system, the other diffusing the pure; two brains, 
 the one picturing realities to the mind, the other pic- 
 turing lies, would perforce be weak and grow ever 
 weaker, and soon would die of sheer exhaustion. Even 
 so man when divided against himself, when he has 
 within him two contending principles, two opposing 
 forces, can not help being spiritually weak. "If a 
 Kingdom be divided against itself, that Kingdom can 
 not stand," says Christ; "and if a house be divided 
 against itself, that house can not stand." May we not 
 add, " if a man be divided against himself, that man 
 can not stand." 
 
 But Christ gives harmony. He makes one. "He 
 is our peace." He makes man a unit, and thus gives 
 him strength. As union is the strength of the many, 
 so unity is the strength of the one — Christ gives man 
 one-ness. He harmonizes all his powers and makes 
 him a unit. Christ gives unity to the understanding. 
 On this account he is called "Light " — "I am the light 
 of the world ; he that folio weth me shall not walk in 
 darkness, but shall have the light of life." He who 
 
g6 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 has the spirit of Christ knows what is right. The 
 path of duty is one before him. That moral crossness 
 of the soul's vision, which sin induces and which makes 
 man to see double, is removed. The spiritual eye, the 
 light of the inner man is made single, sound, true to 
 the facts *of existence. Man sees with the eye of 
 Christ, and he walks with a brave, strong step. ' ' The 
 way of the wicked is as darkness, they know not at 
 what they stumble;" but "the path of the just is as 
 the shining light that shineth more and more unto the 
 perfect day. " Christ gives unity to the affections. Where 
 he is, the heart is one, the feelings are not drawn 
 apart in contrary directions. They do not fly after this 
 thing and after that thing, for there is a great spiritual 
 magnet in the center of man's being, which draws all 
 into one, and keeps all one. 
 
 Christ again gives unity to the will. He makes life 
 one ; the embodiment of one principle — love ; the out- 
 flowing of one Spirit — His own ; and thus the will is 
 made strong. It has one choice — Christ: One thing 
 to do — the will of Christ. Man is enabled to say, ' ' for 
 me to live in Christ," and he who can say that is the 
 strongest of men. He has strength for every trial, 
 and a "heart for every fate." But not only does 
 Christ give unity and strength to the various powers 
 of man's being individually, but he gives unity and 
 strength to the whole, by establishing them in their true 
 relaiioji to each other. He assigns to each its rightful 
 authority, or its proper subordination. Like some wise 
 Ruler who enters an insurgent province and deposes 
 the rebels who have usurped the power belonging to 
 its legitimate governors and magistrates, puts down the 
 mob which would carry out its own blind will, and re- 
 stores law and order, so Christ enters the soul, deposes 
 those faculties of sense which have usurped the rule 
 
SERMONS. 97 
 
 over it, puts down the wild mob of passions, and lusts, 
 which would make their blind will law, gives to Reason 
 and Conscience their rightful sway, and puts love on 
 the throne to rule over all. He allows no one part of 
 man to tyrannize over the rest. The sovereignty of love 
 is no tyranny. The bondsman of love is the only free 
 man. "Whosoever committeth sin is the servant (the 
 slave) of sin :" but " if the Son make you free, ye shall 
 be free indeed." Now then, as that state is strong, 
 which has one source of power, one law-making pow- 
 er, one law-administering power, one law-interpreting 
 power, each one in perfect harmony with the rest, and 
 in proper dependence on them ; as that commonwealth 
 can sustain itself against foes without and dangers 
 within, do the work of a Sovereign State, and make 
 itself a power in the world; as the ship which has 
 one rudder, one compass, one captain, one company of 
 officers, one crew, with every man at his post, with 
 every plank tight, with every spar, rope, and sail in 
 its place, will prove stronger than wind and wave, and 
 "walk the water like a thing of life" — so the man, 
 whose bodily organs are all sound, whose heart and 
 lungs act harmoniously, whose brain and nerves are in 
 perfect sympathy, all of whose muscles and limbs play 
 in blithe obedience to his will, and whose pulse joy- 
 ously beats time to the pulse of nature is the strong 
 man physically; so he, whose intellect is one with 
 itself, whose heart is one with itself, whose will is 
 one with itself, whose whole being is one with itself, 
 and who is thus made one by Christ, who thinks Christ, 
 who feels Christ, who lives Christ, is the strong 
 Christian, the strong man. He is strong with the 
 strength of Christ. "Strong in the Lord and in the 
 power of his might." Christ is the true strength of 
 man because he restores man to the true use and end 
 
98 LLEWELY IOAN EVANS. 
 
 of his existence. Nothing can be strong when perverted 
 to wrong uses — we have seen that nothing can be 
 strong which is not harmonious, in all its parts, and 
 one with itself. But by this harmony we understand 
 the fitness of each part to do its duty in reference to 
 the whole, and the adaptation of the whole to do the 
 duty of the whole. By the harmony of the tree we 
 understand the fitness of the buds and leaves to do 
 their duty, the fitness of the stems to unite the buds 
 and leaves to the branches, the fitness of the branches 
 to unite the whole to the trunk in one tree, so as to 
 answer the purposes of the tree's existence. The tree 
 is strong, only when the whole tree, and all its parts, 
 answer every purpose of their existence. If the bark 
 were stripped off for other purposes than to protect the 
 channel by which the sap is conveyed, if the branches 
 were twisted into fantastic shapes, or crushed by heavy 
 loads, instead of supporting the leaves and fruit, if the 
 buds were all picked off to be used for ornamental pur- 
 poses, the tree would be a failure ; it would become 
 weak and die. 
 
 The pleasure yacht with its exquisite curve of side 
 and bow, its light spars and slender rigging, which is 
 so strong in the race, would prove utterly weak if em- 
 ployed to carry a heavy cargo of iron ; while on the 
 other hand the coal barge with its blunter outlines, its 
 broad prow, flat keel, and heavy beams would only be 
 laughed at in the regatta. The camel, the ship of the 
 desert, so strong on its native sands, would be perfectly 
 helpless in the cold of Greenland ; while the reindeer 
 which bounds so swiftly and so strongly over the 
 northern snows, would be worse than useless in an 
 African Caravan. So man is strong only when he an- 
 swers the purpose of his existence. 
 
 Whenever any single faculty is perverted, whenever 
 
SERMONS. 99 
 
 he fails to answer the purpose, which God in his cre- 
 ation designed him to answer, he becomes utterly- 
 weak, spiritually dead. Every power of man is strong, 
 the whole man is strong only when that end is accom- 
 plished for which he was made. What then is the end 
 of man ? Let God himself make answer. ' ' I have 
 created him for my glory." Man was made to show 
 forth the glory of God, to express as far as he may 
 that which is glorious in God. This, indeed, is the de- 
 sign of all things. "The Lord hath made all things for 
 himself." " All thy works shall praise thee, O Lord." 
 Man has the capacity to express more of what is di- 
 vine, more of what is glorious in the Infinite than all 
 the works of God. It is said that he was made "in 
 the image," in the likeness, "after the similitude of 
 God." He is to express not only the greatness, the 
 power, the wisdom of God, but his holiness, his truth 
 and his love. 
 
 But alas ! Sin has marred it all. Man is no longer 
 a complete Revelation of the Divine. He no longer 
 unites with the heavens in declaring the glory of God. 
 The stars, indeed, pure as when the "morning stars 
 sang together, and the sons of God shouted for joy," 
 still roll on — 
 
 "Forever singing as they shine, 
 The hand that made us is Divine." 
 
 The lily still wears the loveliness, and breathes the fra- 
 grance of its native Eden, reminding us that Earth is 
 ever dear to heaven. But man — Oh ! Man is Ichabod 
 — his glory is departed, he has lost the uses of his 
 being, he has forgotten why he is here. The Prophet 
 of the Most High has buried his commission. Divine 
 messages committed to him, like the Sybil's leaves, are 
 scattered to the four winds, and he himself is become 
 a "feeder of the herds and swine." The High Priest 
 
IOO LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 of Jehovah, anointed to minister in his Temple, and 
 to enter daily into the Holiest of Holies, has become 
 an unclean thing. Urim and Thummin are speechless 
 on his breast, he sets up golden calves, and says to him- 
 self, "These be thy gods." The Vice-gerent of the 
 King of Heaven, whom his Lord has crowned with 
 glory and honor, and made to have dominion over the 
 work of his hands, is become an idiot, who trifles with 
 the crown placed on his brow, and plays with the 
 sceptre put in his hands, as though they were mere 
 baubles. "How is the gold become dim, how is the 
 most fine gold changed ; the stones of the sanctuary 
 are poured out in the top of every street. The precious 
 sons of Zion, compared to fine gold, how are they es- 
 teemed as broken pitchers, the work of the hand of 
 the potter." 
 
 But Christ creates man anew in the image of God, 
 and thus restores him to his true uses. Christ is the 
 image of God ; to be like Christ is to be like God. To 
 be in the image of God is to be brought to the true 
 use and end of humanity ; to fulfill that use and to an- 
 swer that end is to be strong ; Christ, and Christ alone, 
 is the true strength of man. And thus we arrive at a 
 more definite, and at the same time, a higher idea of 
 strength. If strength is, as we have seen, the adapta- 
 tion of everything to fulfill its uses, and if, as we have 
 also seen, the highest use of every created thing is to 
 express something of what there is in God, true 
 strength must be power to make that expression. 
 
 The strength of the sun is its power to express so 
 much of the Divine brightness and power as God has 
 put into it. The strength of the flower is its power to 
 express so much of the Divine beauty and loveliness 
 as God has breathed into it. The strength of man is 
 his power to express so much of the Divine^ truth, of 
 
SERMONS. IOI 
 
 the Divine strength, of the divine tenderness, of the 
 Divine love, as God has inspired into him. Do we de- 
 sire then to be strong? Let us be Godlike. Do we 
 wish to.be Godlike? Let us be like Christ. Let us be 
 in sympathy with him. Let us receive his spirit. ' ' In 
 him dwelleth all the fullness of the Godhead bodily, 
 and ye are complete in him." 
 
 But once again, Christ is the true strength of man, 
 because he inspires man with love. Strictly speaking, 
 the harmony of man's being and his restoration to his 
 true uses, are conditions of strength rather than 
 strength itself. The essence of that strength is love. 
 Love, indeed, is necessary to those very conditions. 
 What but love harmonizes man? Whence arise the 
 distractions of his inner life but from the want of it? 
 Why the conflict we saw in the intellect between expe- 
 diency and right, self-interest and duty, but because 
 man seeks himself? Would that conflict exist if man 
 should make a complete surrender of himself to God? 
 Will not love decide at once and forever that what God 
 wills is best to be done ? Can {hat heart again be di- 
 vided in its affections, which is filled with one great 
 love that absorbs all other feelings into itself? And 
 is not that will one with itself, all of whose acts are 
 the spontaneous manifestations of an all-controlling 
 love ? 
 
 Nearly all of man's troubles and perplexities in life 
 come from making himself the center of existence. 
 This, it is true, seems much the simplest way to ar- 
 range the universe. So, to the old astronomers, it 
 seemed altogether simplest and best to make this earth 
 the center of everything. What was the sun good for, 
 but to give light to the earth by day ? or the moon but to 
 give light by night ? or the stars, but to help the moon 
 the best they could ? Then why should they not all 
 
102 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 swing about the earth? But it somehow happened 
 that the more they observed the changes and motions 
 of the sun, moon and stars, the more puzzled they 
 were to account for them, the more crooked became 
 the lines around this earth-center, and the more de- 
 cidedly awkward and rickety became the universe day 
 after day. But finally one, more sagacious than the rest, 
 and whose heart I think must have been large as well 
 as his brain, ventured to guess that, possibly, this earth 
 might not be the center after all ; what if it were the 
 sun ? And sure enough, no sooner was the assump- 
 tion made, than most of the difficulties vanished, things 
 began to look a little safer, harmony reigned once more 
 and spheres rung out their wonted music as of old. 
 
 And so when man makes himself the central point, 
 he is involved in inextricable perplexities. All is in 
 confusion. The orbits of righteousness and truth form 
 all sorts of curves. Eternal stars become wandering 
 meteors ; the everlasting heavens topple over his head ; 
 no logarithms can save him. He is a doomed man, 
 until he changes his center of existence and quietly sets 
 himself to revolve with all God's creation about it. 
 That which does this for man is love. It makes Christ 
 his center, and sets the soul to revolve around him. 
 It gives stability to all the interests and destiny of man, 
 and thus makes him strong. "I have set the Lord al- 
 ways before me: because he is at my right hand, I 
 shall not be moved." 
 
 Love again is the perfect restoration of man to his 
 true end; for love is the truest expression of God, and 
 in love — the love of God, of man, and of all that is 
 spiritual, good, and true, man fulfills the great purpose 
 of his existence. 
 
 But not only is love necessary to all other conditions 
 of strength ; it has also uses of its own as an element of 
 
SERMONS. I03 
 
 strength. It absorbs and concentrates all other feelings 
 in itself. It is the flux which fuses them all in one. It 
 penetrates with its own essence, it purifies to its own 
 brightness, it intensifies in its own glow every higher and 
 nobler feeling of the soul. Love is Faith, Humility, 
 Hope, Reverence, Gratitude, Joy, Zeal, all melted to- 
 gether into one living stream, which gushes and rises, 
 and heaves until it overflows all bounds, and bursts 
 through the floodgates of the soul in one strong tide, 
 which, like the old Ocean Stream of the Ancients, pours 
 itself around the world, and encircles all being in its 
 never ceasing flow. When now we remember how 
 strong is each one of these feelings, that there is not 
 one but has had its martyrs, not one but has nerved 
 man to face adversity, suffering, and death, how strong 
 must be their union, and how strong must that man be 
 in whom they are all taken up into a higher energy, 
 and blended in a love " strong as death, which water 
 can not quench, neither the floods drown." 
 
 Love is strength again, because it makes man to forget 
 himself. He who is forever haunted by his own shadow 
 is weak. Man is always stronger in another, than him- 
 self. The strong men of the world, those whom we 
 call heroes, its Davids, Pauls, Luthers, Knoxes, its 
 Mohammeds and Napoleons even, were all strong in 
 something else than in their own strength, the poorer 
 sort of them in an irresistible fate which impelled them 
 in their course ; the better sort in a God who inspired 
 their hearts and held them in his hand. "The Lord is 
 the strength of my life" said David, "of whom shall I 
 be afraid." "I can do all things," said Paul, "through 
 Christ which strengtheneth me." " Stand thou by me, 
 thou true and eternal God," was the prayer of Luther 
 at the Diet of Worms. "Hast thou chosen me for 
 this end ? But I know for a surety thou hast chosen 
 
104 LLEWELYN 10 AN EVANS. 
 
 me. Ha ! then may God direct it, for never did I think 
 in all my life to be opposed to such great lords, neither 
 have I intended it. Ha ! God then stand by me in the 
 name of Jesus Christ, who shall be my shelter and my 
 shield. Yea, my firm tower, through the might and 
 strengthening of thy Holy Spirit. The world shall not 
 be able to force me against my conscience, though it 
 were full of Devils, and though my body, originally 
 the work and creature of thy hands, go to destruction in 
 this cause. Yea, though it be shattered to pieces, 
 Thy word and Thy Spirit they are good to me still." * 
 
 
III. 
 
 COMPLETENESS. 
 
 Col. 2 : 10. " And ye are complete in him." 
 
 Completeness, fullness, is an essential characteristic 
 of true religion. The Christian state is one of com- 
 pleteness. In it man has been filled up, wholly and in 
 all his parts filled up, with life ; with Christ ; with God. 
 The fatal defect of all false religions and of all false con- 
 ceptions of religion, is that they are partial, one sided. 
 They take a part of religion for the whole. Man must 
 have some religion, something, at least, that he can 
 with some show of reason call his religion, and every 
 form of religion in which man tries to believe must have 
 something in it of truth and divineness, something 
 which resembles, or is a part of true religion. It must 
 be true so far as it goes. But false religion does not 
 go far enough nor deep enough, and this it is which 
 makes it fatal. Of all errors partial truths are the most 
 pernicious. Of all partial truths, partial views of religion 
 are the most dangerous. It is to some of these I would 
 ask your consideration at this time, in the hope that we 
 may be led thereby to understand better, and to value 
 more highly, that completeness of spiritual development 
 which belongs only to the life of Christ in the soul. 
 
 The first form of false religion to which I would di- 
 rect your attention is that which, recognizing the claims 
 
 (105) 
 
106 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 of the intellect in the man, would identify religion with 
 a creed. This you will observe embodies a partial truth. 
 Religion is a matter of belief. That is but a partial re- 
 ligion not worthy of the name which does not appeal 
 to the rational principle, which does not recognize the 
 importance of a solid healthy intellectual belief. That 
 religion is a poor religion which does not enrich the 
 mind. That religion is a weak religion which does not 
 strengthen the understanding. That religion is itself 
 ignoble which does not ennoble the intellect. A mere 
 religious sentimentalism will not permanently satisfy 
 active and thinking minds. It must furnish food to 
 such and to all for thought and reflection. And the 
 excellence of Evangelical Christianity is shown in this, 
 that while it is so simple in its presentation of the 
 more important truths which are necessary to salvation 
 that the humblest intellect may understand them, it is 
 at the same time so rich and manifold in its contents, 
 that the loftiest intellects need not be weary in study- 
 ing them. Let us now proceed to study a few other of 
 the prevalent misconceptions in regard to religion. To 
 some minds religion presents itself as a mere creed. 
 It requires our faith in central doctrines. And in re- 
 ligion as well as in business, in government, in art, in 
 philosophy and in politics, what a man believes is a 
 matter of some consequence. In all ages of the world 
 good men have thought it important to define their 
 views, to draw the line as accurately as they could be- 
 tween truth and error. There never was a political 
 party which did not have its creed. It was a necessity 
 that the Church in developing its life, in unfolding its con- 
 sciousness, in justifying principles and in assailing error 
 should present to the world harmonious and systematic 
 statements of what it believed. This necessity recurred 
 continually, as often as the Church entered upon some 
 
SERMONS. 107 
 
 new phase of its life or as often as some new form of 
 error threatened the integrity of its faith. In this way 
 creeds arose. They were a necessity, and yet they had 
 their danger. There was danger lest the human should 
 be exalted into the place of the divine. There was 
 danger lest the form should take the place of the sub- 
 stance, lest the spirit which giveth life having departed, 
 the latter should have power only to kill. This indeed 
 has been too often the result. The Church has too 
 often made a Bible of its creed. It has made more of 
 the shell than of the kernel. Men have mistaken intel- 
 lectual acquiescence in certain doctrines for faith. One 
 of the greatest obstacles to the progress of Christianity 
 has been a dead, petrified orthodoxy. A live orthodoxy 
 is a great and mighty power. Right thinking is at the 
 bottom of all right doing, it is the pith and core of 
 every manly, brave, successful life. But for the very 
 reason that a living orthodoxy is a power and a 
 blessing, a dead orthodoxy is an incubus and a curse. 
 The best things perverted are the most dangerous. A 
 live creed is inspiration; a dead creed is strangulation. 
 We have heard, I admit, enough, and more than enough 
 of that honest doubt in which some one has said there 
 is more faith than in half the creeds. 
 
 I wish to say nothing to encourage the fashionable 
 cant of the shallow would-be scepticism which prides 
 itself on its doubts. For there is a doubt which is 
 devil-born. No true, earnest thinker was ever proud of 
 his doubts. The mind was made for faith ; and that 
 mind which does not gird itself valiantly to fight its 
 doubts, which boasts rather of the hospitable entertain- 
 ment which it furnishes to them, will avenge itself 
 most fearfully. But let no one imagine that a sleepy, 
 lifeless acquiescence in truth is faith, or religion. Con- 
 victions are not dead stakes driven into the mind, 
 
108 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 however firmly, but living roots, which send themselves 
 ever deeper, which, strengthening, spread and lay hold 
 of the soul's depths, which grow up into pure and 
 noble feelings, and into manly and holy deeds. The 
 question is — what is your creed? Is it a dead trunk, 
 or a living tree ? Is it a weight loading down life, or 
 an energy lifting it up ? Is it a bolster on which you 
 lay yourself down to sleep, or is it a living chariot in 
 whose wheels is the spirit of life, bearing you on to- 
 ward the goal of your heavenly calling? Is it a for- 
 mula, or a faith? Is it an abstraction in the brain, or 
 is it warm blood leaping from the heart, and carrying 
 life through the whole organization ? Thou believest 
 that there is one God. Thou doest well. The devils 
 also believe and tremble. But wilt thou know, O vain 
 man! that faith without works is dead? But as it is 
 the tendency of error always to run to extremes, so we 
 find some who in their opposition to a mere creed 
 religion have fallen into the opposite error of regarding 
 religion as mere sentiment. The Bible lays great stress 
 on holiness. The production of a virtuous life, of a 
 perfect character, is again and again inculcated as the 
 great end of Christianity. In the Sermon on the 
 Mount, Christ's first great public discourse, he made it 
 his aim to unfold the law in the breadth and fullness 
 of its requirements. All through his public life we 
 find him urging this and that duty and virtue. Now 
 humility, now consistency, at one time forgiveness, at 
 another charity. Duties occupy a large place in the 
 inspired presentation of Christianity. By their fruits, 
 says Christ, we shall know them. Faith without 
 works is dead, says one of his apostles. It is clear 
 then that the element of morality, is one of paramount 
 importance. It can not be overlooked or denied. The 
 only way to neutralize it, to make it mean nothing, is 
 
SERMONS. IO9 
 
 to pervert it, to cut the connection between the out- 
 ward and the inward life, to sever morality from love 
 and faith, to Contract its limits, to take away its vitality. 
 And this is what sin is ever influencing men to do. 
 There is more than one grade of morality to be ob- 
 served. The lowest of all is that which takes for its 
 standard public opinion, the average social morality of 
 the community, or the statutes and laws of the land. 
 And this poor, flimsy, fluctuating morality is what mul- 
 titudes call their religion. Down in the secret depths 
 of their souls, they try to persuade themselves that 
 this thing will do to take with them into eternity, and 
 to present unto God. They know that they can not 
 appear before him and say: "We paid no regard to 
 right, we believed in no such thing as duty, we recog- 
 nized no standard of rectitude — no law to obey." And 
 they flatter themselves that this religion of Social Law, 
 of Public Opinion, of Respectability, will do their turn : 
 that when they appear before God, they can present 
 this miserable pretense and say: "This standard of 
 duty we found in the world about us, this is what was 
 required of us, and to this we sought to conform," 
 hoping that the shortcomings and failures which they 
 know have abounded in their lives may be extenuated 
 on the poor plea that they are no worse than others. 
 Terrible delusion! 
 
 Think you that God will set aside his standard for 
 that of Public Opinion? that he will lay by his law, 
 and try men by the laws, the tests, which they have 
 manufactured. Be not deceived. The law by which 
 God judges the world and will ever judge it, is his own. 
 The standard by which he will try men is that which 
 he himself has set up, that which he himself has ex- 
 emplified. The religion which he requires is in the life 
 of his Son. Judged by this standard of religion which 
 
IIO LLEWEYLN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 he gives, not that which society requires, my friend 
 what is your morality worth? 
 
 There is another class of morality seekers who differ 
 from the one just spoken of in this : that the standard 
 to which they profess or strive to conform is Divine, not 
 human. They feel that it is not enough to satisfy the 
 demands of society. There is a higher judge at whose 
 bar they must appear. Something more is needed than 
 that which Public Opinion requires. The law of God 
 is broader and minuter. But after all, their obedience 
 is literal and formal rather than spiritual. Their relig- 
 ion is external. It is of the old narrow negative pat- 
 tern, of the Judaistic type, if I may so call it. There is 
 much more of the "Thou shalt not" in it, than of 
 "Thou shalt." They make clean the outside of the 
 cups and of the platter, but leave that which is within 
 uncleansed. They have the form of Godliness ; but the 
 power is not there. God requires humility. And you 
 will find some who make great outward demonstrations 
 of humility. They take particular pains to seem 
 humble, which is a pretty sure sign that there is not 
 much true humility there. The truly humble man is 
 like the violet, which is modest and lowly for the very 
 same reason that it is lovely and fragrant, and which 
 hides itself as humbly, and gives forth as sweet a per- 
 fume in the deep dell, where no eye sees it save God's, 
 as by the wayside where every passer by may see it. 
 But where would be the formalist's humility, if he were 
 compelled to hide it? He wears some of the badges 
 of humility, not humility itself. He is proud of what 
 he calls his humility. Tell him that he is not humble 
 and his pride will leap at you like a trodden serpent. 
 It lies low in the grass till you tread on it. 
 
 Christ requires self-denial. "If any man will come 
 after me, let him deny himself." And some one pres- 
 
SERMONS. I I I 
 
 ently bethinks himself, "Wherein can I deny myself? 
 What can I give up? What can I do without?" And 
 having found something which he can resign without 
 much detriment or inconvenience, some sacrifice which 
 perhaps to the world seems very considerable, but 
 which in reality is hardly any sacrifice at all, which 
 costs nothing, he makes a great show of self-denial in 
 making that. "He that taketh not his cross, and fol- 
 loweth after me, is not worthy of me," says Jesus. 
 And the mere moralist walks around among his crosses, 
 tries one after the other, picks out the lightest, — he is 
 very careful to leave behind the heaviest. Who ever 
 saw him endure the soul agony of the true cross bearer, 
 taking up without a murmur any and every cross which 
 is put upon him? When a sharp and heavy cross is 
 thrust on him against his choice, how he struggles 
 against it and tries to throw it off — but this light, easy 
 cross, which he has chosen, or which perhaps he has 
 made — for there is such a thing as men's manufacturing 
 crosses that they may get rid of the cross God puts on 
 them. Ah ! this is the very thing ! shouldering it as 
 carefully and easily as he can, so that it will hurt him 
 as little as possible, he goes out into the market places, 
 the public streets, and carries his cross as high as he 
 can, that all may see it. He brings it into the house 
 of God, and whenever the duty of taking up the cross 
 is urged he feels comfortable in the thought that he is 
 doing that at any rate. Do you call that bearing the 
 cross? How different from the cross bearing of Jesus, 
 from that which Jesus did, from that which he requires. 
 " He that loseth his life for my sake shall find it." 
 
 But there is a higher grade of morality than either 
 of those which have been noticed. There are those 
 who are well convinced that morality is not altogether 
 a thing of the external — that it is not comprised in out- 
 
112 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS, 
 
 ward compliances merely. They are intelligent enough 
 to know that it includes internal exercises, states, dispo- 
 sitions, and performances of the heart, a life within as 
 well as a life without. There are spiritual exercises to 
 be acquired, and enjoyed, moods, feelings, into which 
 the soul is to be raised, duties to be performed by 
 which it is to be elevated. All this is included in re- 
 ligion as understood by the higher order of moralists. 
 I call this religious morality, because after all it is but 
 a form of religion. It is still destitute of its essential 
 spirit, of its vital active principle. And at this point, 
 it may be well to speak boldly of the difference between 
 religion and morality, however high the latter may reach ; 
 using the term morality in that lower sense in which it 
 is often used, as contrasting with religion, although the 
 propriety of thus using it may perhaps be questioned. 
 Certain it is, that in its truest, strictest sense, morality 
 is religion. But bearing this in mind, and remember- 
 ing that morality as we now consider it, is not true 
 morality, using it to designate a formal religion adapted 
 to satisfy the demands of a disturbed conscience, let us 
 see how wide is the chasm between it and true religion. 
 For the latter is true, real, the other as I have just called 
 it, merely formal. One goes down to the foundations of 
 life, the other does not go below its surface. Religion 
 is a positive thing ; morality a negative. That is moved 
 from without, this from within. The one is inspired by 
 love, the other is prompted by self-interest. Religion 
 asks — How much can I do? Morality — How little? In 
 the former you find purposes which are born out of the 
 deep, like an earthquake, and which upturn the whole 
 life ; in the latter you find resolves that are born of the 
 surface which make no change in the current, but 
 which after being borne along by it a little distance 
 scatter and vanish. Religion is righteousness; Morality 
 
SERMONS. 1 1 3 
 
 self-righteousness. And what, you may ask, is the dif- 
 ference between righteousness or holiness, and self- 
 righteousness? I know not how better to illustrate it 
 than by calling the former a living body, the latter a 
 petrifaction. You know that if a living plant be buried 
 in the earth, it very often forms a petrifaction. 
 
 As the particles of organized matter decay, they are 
 gradually replaced one by one by particles of earthen 
 or rocky matter, which, because they take the posi- 
 tion and dimensions of the decayed particles, assume 
 their precise form and color, until the whole is changed. 
 You have the plant exactly the same in position, size, 
 shape, as when it was first deposited, but with this 
 difference : that whereas at first it was composed of or- 
 ganized matter, it is now a stone. In like manner a 
 process goes on in the soul of the self-righteous mor- 
 alist, by which the life of whatever good has found its 
 way into him is taken away, leaving only the form, 
 the appearance. In the higher forms even of mere 
 morality, we find an imitation of religious experience. 
 The man is not satisfied with the mechanical perform- 
 ance of outward duty. He feels that more is needed. 
 There must be feeling, desire, resolutions, plans, en- 
 deavor and enjoyment. So he cultivates these inward 
 experiences. He seeks to excite those feelings, to put 
 forth those designs, to form those resolves and plans, 
 to create that sense of enjoyment which might be 
 deemed appropriate to a religious life. But there being 
 no true love to God, no real communion with Christ to 
 sustain that life, very soon it begins to decay, and 
 pride, vanity, self-righteousness, self-sufficiency, enter 
 and fill the soul experiences, penetrating the whole in- 
 ward life, taking the place of what was there before, 
 until whatever of goodness and divineness there may 
 have been about these experiences at first, vanishes, is 
 
114 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 displaced by selfishness and pride, until the whole be- 
 comes a dead, hard mass, preserving the form, the 
 color, the attributes of a religious life, but with no 
 warmth, no sweetness, no growth. Such, brethren, is 
 selfishness — a petrifaction, petrified righteousness. The 
 infusion of self petrifies the whole. The noblest ex- 
 ercise of spirit, if self takes possession of it, is degraded. 
 The richest experience of the soul, if self worms its 
 way into it, is killed at the very core, until all of its 
 sweetness and nutriment dies out of it. The best deed 
 of the life, if self fastens on it, is smitten with a 
 blight, and its glory and freshness are eaten as by mil- 
 dew. That religion is imperfect which does not lay its 
 claim on the whole man, which does not penetrate and 
 renovate his whole being from center to circumference. 
 No religion can command the obedience and respect of 
 mankind permanently, which does not commend itself 
 to the judgment, which does not bring within the cir- 
 cle of its influence the thinking faculties. 
 
 Some vague, dreamy sentimentalism may please for 
 a time, but nothing calling itself a religion can give 
 lasting satisfaction which does not recognize the 
 claims of the rational principle in man. For man is 
 distinctively a rational being. He is, indeed, a being 
 of emotions, of affections — and in man these emotions 
 and affections are of a far higher order than in irra- 
 tional beings, of purer essence, of loftier reach and of 
 wider range, of sweeter exercise. But they are higher, 
 purer, loftier, sweeter, because man is endowed with 
 intelligence — with reason, which brings him into wider 
 and nobler relations, into contact with beings and re- 
 alities that deserve and inspire feelings of a far more 
 elevated order. One thing corresponds to the other. 
 The depth of the feeling is proportioned to the height 
 of the intelligence. It is true, on the other hand, that 
 
 
SERMONS. 1 1 5 
 
 the development of intelligence is aided by the power 
 of feeling which man possesses. Take away the latter 
 and the reason would be shorn of more than one-half 
 of its power. There is an element of feeling in the 
 higher operations of the reason which cannot be elimi- 
 nated without serious loss. What would be the soul's 
 perceptions of the attributes of God, of Eternity, Im- 
 mortality, Beauty, without feeling ? We may hold 
 then, as indisputable, that the elevation of feeling is 
 proportionate to the ennobling of the intellect — that to 
 enrich the heart you must enrich the mind. To carry 
 the feelings you must carry the intellect. And this is 
 just as true in religion as in anything else. Religion is 
 a life, but it is a life which fills every channel of the 
 soul. It is a life, not simply a sentiment. It demands 
 honesty, rectitude, earnestness in thought as well as in feel- 
 ing. And let me tell you : that religion is a false religion 
 which encourages intellectual indifference, which does 
 not promote the love of truth and the earnest purpose 
 to possess it. That religion is shallow, untrustworthy, 
 which makes light of a man's belief — a man's creed. 
 That which a man really believes, lies at the very bot- 
 tom of his life. In rare instances you will find a man 
 who is better than his creed ; but the rule is, as a man's 
 creed so will his character be. Admitting that some- 
 times a man may be found whose life is better than 
 his theology, does it follow that the life does not de- 
 pend on the belief at all? Shall we deny the rule be- 
 cause of the exception? Because we are and should 
 be tolerant in regard to men, are we therefore to be- 
 come lax, indifferent, in regard to errors ? 
 
 Are we to withhold our condemnation of dangerous 
 doctrines, because this or that man was a good man 
 in spite of them ? Not at all. Because in one or in a 
 few some good influences have neutralized the poison 
 
Il6 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 of the error, the error is none the less a poison. That 
 religion, I say then, can not be the right religion which 
 encourages indifference in belief. Charity is one thing, 
 indifference is altogether another thing. The excel- 
 lency of Evangelical Christianity shows itself in this, 
 that while it is simple, adapted in its principal features 
 to the humblest comprehension, it is also rich, deep, 
 manifold. Like nature, it is an endless study. 
 Each one of its truths branches out on all sides into 
 the life. You can not take away one without leaving 
 a great vacuum behind it. How poor, how barren, 
 how bleak are the substitutes of modern religionists, 
 when compared with the fruitful field of evangelical 
 truth! How easy to exhaust the former; how inex- 
 haustible the latter ! How dull and flat the former be- 
 come when their novelty is worn off! How new and 
 varied in interest does the latter grow the older it be- 
 comes ! If it fails to do this, then thinking, acting 
 minds, will ultimately reject it. They will make 
 something else their religion — science, literature, art. 
 This in fact has been the case in all countries and 
 ages where religion has degenerated into sentimental- 
 ism. The stronger minds have acquired the habit of 
 looking down on it as something appropriate only for 
 women, children, emotional, mystically inclined people, 
 or the lower superstitious orders, those who are ruled 
 
 by feeling and impulse . 
 
 The gospel is a gospel of sweetness, but it is also a 
 gospel of power. It provides truth in its simplicity, 
 even milk for babes. It provides truth in its sweetness 
 — sweeter than honey, or the droppings of honey-comb. 
 It also provides solid food for a manly maturity. Every- 
 one that useth milk is unskillful in the word of righteous- 
 ness — for he is a babe. But strong meat (solid food) 
 belongeth to them that are of full age, even those who 
 
SERMONS. 1 1 7 
 
 by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern 
 between good and evil. Therefore leaving the (ele- 
 ments) principles, let us go on unto the perfection of 
 the doctrines of Christ. 
 
 We have considered two forms of false religion ; the 
 one recognizing the claims of the intellect seeking to 
 satisfy itself with a creed ; the other, recognizing the 
 claims of the sensibilities, contenting itself with mere 
 sentiment. And now — my hearers — let us ask ourselves 
 how do we expect to meet the claims which God makes 
 upon us? Do we seek to content ourselves with the 
 mere form of Godliness ? Is our righteousness anything 
 more than self-righteousness? Is our faith that living 
 faith which adds to itself knowledge, and which worketh 
 by love ? Is our religion a life which makes itself felt 
 in every part of our being? Let us remember that 
 God demands the whole man ; the intellect, the affec- 
 tions, the will, the thoughts, the motives, the purposes, 
 the deeds, the life within, the life without. Nay more ; 
 He demands completeness, perfection in knowledge, 
 perfection in love, perfection in life. There is a day 
 coming when our religion, whatever it be, will be tested 
 by the light of God's throne ; tested by the fires of his 
 judgment. There is a day coming when the great 
 question with each one of us will be — Have I that 
 which will satisfy the demands of the infinitely just and 
 holy God ? My friend, there is but one way of satisfy- 
 ing these demands. If you can say, — Christ is mine ! you 
 can meet God without a fear. There is salvation in no 
 other. To know Christ, this alone is life eternal. Count 
 all things but loss for the excellency of this knowledge. 
 Make this knowledge the substance and essence, the 
 warp and woof of all your creed. To love Christ ; to 
 love him with a love which comprehends the divine 
 mystery of his love, a love which even passes knowl- 
 
Il8 LLEWELYN 10 AN EVANS. 
 
 edge, a love which trusts all to Christ, which hopes for 
 all from Christ, which yields all to Christ, which does 
 all for Christ, — this feeling, this sentiment alone will fit 
 you for that heavenly fellowship with Christ, wherein 
 alone eternal blessedness will be found. To love Christ, 
 to show his spirit, to reproduce his character, to meas- 
 ure all your life by his, to count all things but loss that 
 you may win Christ, to do the work of God, to work as 
 Christ worked, to be his fellow laborer, this is the only 
 life which can endure. 
 
IV. 
 
 CHEERFULNESS IN GIVING. 
 
 2 Corinthians 9: 7, (latter part). " God loveth a cheerful giver." 
 
 The emphasis of this declaration lies in the word 
 "cheerful." God of course loves the giver, the man 
 who freely bestows of what he has on those who are in 
 need ; the man who considers that it is a nobler thing 
 to be a cloud distilling mercy and blessing on the place 
 beneath, and exhausting itself in the act, rather than a 
 vortex into which many things are drawn, but out of 
 which nothing is ever seen to come forth. There are 
 men who are like the daughter of the horse-leech, for- 
 ever crying, Give ! Give ! There are men who seem to 
 believe that everything and everybody were made for 
 them. They have never learned the truth of the prov- 
 erb : ' ' There is that which scattereth and yet increaseth. " 
 They have never discovered the secret of becoming 
 rich and of feeling rich. Love's paradox of giving with- 
 out impoverishing is, to the selfish man, an absurdity 
 or a mystery. Such a man the Lord loveth not. He 
 is wholly unlike to God. There is no" point of sym- 
 pathy between his life and the Divine life. There is no 
 principle in him which can delight in God ; there is no 
 quality in him in which God can delight. Not so with 
 the giver. He whose life is a perpetual effluence of 
 goodness, charity, goodwill, who radiates as well as 
 
 (119) 
 
120 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 absorbs, who is the servant of others, the benefactor of 
 all whom he can reach, is a man beloved of God. For 
 God is a giver. He reveals himself as the giving God. 
 Everything which he does is a gift. Creation, Provi- 
 dence, Redemption, all the Divine operations are pro- 
 cesses by which the All-bountiful One is ever giving 
 away something of infinite beauty and worth. As the 
 sun would cease to be a sun were it no longer to radiate 
 light and heat, so God would cease to be God, were he 
 no longer to give. And because God is such, he loves 
 the giver. 
 
 But this general truth being assumed, Paul affirms in 
 the text that God loves cheerfulness in giving. What- 
 ever may be God's reason for loving the giver, the same 
 are his reasons foe loving the cheerful giver. If he 
 loves the giver, because he himself is a giving God, he 
 loves a cheerful giver because he himself is a cheerful 
 giver. To give and to give cheerfully are indeed in 
 God's mind one and the same. To give grudgingly, 
 reluctantly, to give with the hand, what the heart 
 would keep, to wish back again what has been given, 
 to give of necessity, under compulsion, from fear, for 
 appearance sake, from self-interest, that is not what 
 God calls giving at all. For, in giving, the motive and 
 the manner are everything. Why a man gives, and 
 how a man gives, are of much greater consequence 
 than what he gives, or how much he gives. And there- 
 fore Christ commended the poor widow who cast in her 
 two mites into the treasury, above the many rich folks 
 that cast in much. "Verily, I say unto you: That 
 this poor widow hath cast more in than all they which 
 have cast into the treasury. For all they did cast in of 
 their abundance : but she of her want did cast in all 
 that she had, even all her living." God accounts 
 nothing a gift unless the whole heart goes with it. The 
 
SERMONS. 121 
 
 merest mite, when Love presents it as her best, is a 
 gift more royal than a kingdom. A throne, when 
 selfishness parts with it, is held of less account than 
 the ashes into which fire might burn it. 
 
 But we may go still further and say that the same 
 God who loveth a cheerful giver, loves cheerfulness in 
 everything. I have said already that God's life is one 
 of giving. It follows therefore that as man's life is to be 
 like God's, his true life is also one of giving. It con- 
 sists in perpetual self-impartation ; in the bestowal of 
 one's property, thoughts, affections, and entire life upon 
 others. God loves cheerfulness in all things, and de- 
 sires that all the gifts of the life, of the mind, the heart, 
 the tongue, as well as the hand should be fragrant with 
 its essence. Look back over the past. Think of the 
 multiform, never ceasing activities of the mind during 
 the twenty, forty, fifty, or seventy years of your life, 
 and of all the thoughts to which those activities have 
 given birth. You cannot realize it at once. Think of 
 all the thoughts which spring up in the mind, or which 
 come floating and drifting through it, one knows not 
 whence, in a single day. You have all of you stood 
 over a fountain and watched the bubbling waters as 
 they came up and up out of the earth, in endless, rising 
 columns, and you have with difficulty persuaded yourself 
 that it is only dead mechanical pressure, and not a liv- 
 ing agent, which produces the results before you. You 
 visit it to-day and the drops well up and roll away; to- 
 morrow, and it is the same ; the next day, and it is as 
 busy as ever, and your arithmetic fails you in comput- 
 ing the drops and bubbles that spring there forever. 
 And so for years have thoughts been welling up in 
 your soul, not as regularly, nor alas! as purely as the 
 drops in the fountain, and what has become of them ? 
 You have forgotten all but a few; they have gathered 
 
122 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 together like the dews of the vapor, and stand over the 
 past, massed together in dim overshadowing clouds. 
 The past is like a fog, into which you can see but a 
 little, but is it all dead? Are those thoughts all lost 
 and vanished forever? Nay, let no one think that. 
 Hope not for that, ye whose thoughts have been idle, 
 vain, unworthy it may be, and vile, such as ye might 
 wish were buried forever. Fear not that, ye whose 
 thoughts have been of divine and holy themes, pene- 
 trated with sweetness and heavenly joy, such as ye 
 could pray might be your companions forever. They 
 are not buried ; they are not lost, they are with God. 
 The all important question is, how did we render them 
 to God? Did we deliver them into his hands humbly 
 and cheerfully, as the free-will offerings of pure and 
 loving hearts? Or did they escape from us, as against 
 our consent, that they might be witnesses against us in 
 the coming Judgment? 
 
 The first conditions of cheerful lives, are cheerful 
 thoughts. Thoughts are the staple of our lives. As 
 we think and feel about things, so shall we act in respect 
 to them. Now I need not say, that God desires to re- 
 ceive our thoughts as daily sacrifices of thanksgiving 
 and joy. But the character of our thoughts depends 
 on the character of their objects. If the object is poor 
 and worthless, the thought will be such. If the object 
 is .beautiful and Divine, the thought will have the same 
 character. Hence the repeated admonitions of Scripture 
 to fasten our affections on Divine things ; because these 
 alone can be evolved into harmonious, and cheerful 
 thoughts, pleasing God. They " breed within us per- 
 petual benedictions. " They are born of God, who is 
 light, and they carry with them the brightness and the 
 gladness of light. The nearer we come to the sun, the 
 great centre of light, the less and the fainter will be the 
 
SERMONS. 123 
 
 shadows. The reason why we behold so many shadows 
 now is because we live so low, because we so rarely 
 take our flight above the clouds, because we so seldom 
 climb to the ' ' shining table-lands, to which our God 
 himself is moon and sun." 
 
 It is not of course to be expected in this life, that the 
 soul should be in a perpetual transport of joy. It should, 
 however, find its equivalent in a divinely sustained 
 cheerfulness, which will be a constant testimony to the 
 ever conscious presence of God's love around us and 
 within us. We are to be earnest, serious, no doubt. 
 We must never forget the great end of living. We 
 must abhor all trifling, all foolery, all petty frittering 
 away of time and opportunity. We must live "as ever 
 in our Great Taskmaster's eye." 
 
 But there is nothing in this incompatible with the 
 utmost cheerfulness. Indeed it may be said that only 
 the thoughtful, sober-minded man, who has a clear and 
 distinct understanding of the reality of life, and of the 
 momentous interests which hang on it, can be truly 
 cheerful. 
 
 There may be merriment, gaiety, frivolity, among 
 the thoughtless and the careless, but true cheerfulness 
 is unknown except to the heart at peace with itself, 
 at peace with God. The earnest consecration of the 
 life to its great purpose is therefore indispensable to 
 the possession and manifestation of that cheerfulness 
 which God loves. 
 
 Bearing this in mind, I repeat that it is every man's 
 duty, by earnest meditation on all that is pure, elevat- 
 ing, and spiritually inspiring, by the constant reception 
 of all holy and Divine influences, to cultivate bright 
 and blessed thoughts, which shall diffuse their gentle 
 glow through all the inner life, and shed their beaming 
 luster over all the actions. Let him think cheerfully of 
 
124 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 God. He is not a cold, distant, inaccessible Being, 
 surrounded by impenetrable barriers, shrouded in 
 eternal gloom, a stern, inflexible Fate, or an adaman- 
 tine, inexorable Law, or a blind and Soulless Force. 
 He is alive with sympathy, aglow with love, radiant 
 with invincible attractions, ever with us, nearer to us 
 than all others, bending over us with a brow of love, 
 telling each one of us "I am thy Father; come unto 
 me, my child ; tell me thy wants ; speak to me of thy 
 sorrows ; cast on me thy cares ; declare thy joys. I 
 am ever near thee to guide and save thee. Re- 
 ceive my Spirit ; let him teach thee to call me, Abba, 
 Father." 
 
 Think cheerfully of life. It is not a blank void, 
 a blank, thorny path, a dull routine of lifeless perform- 
 ances, a dreary succession of vacancies and disappoint- 
 ments. It is, if we choose to make it so, if we submit 
 to the discipline which God appoints for us, a blessed 
 and glorious opportunity, the promising beginning of a 
 career of progress, of ever increasing knowledge, ca- 
 pacity and power. If it has its losses, it has also its 
 gains. If there is much bitterness in it, there is more 
 that is sweet. If we are surprised with unexpected 
 griefs, how much oftener are we not surprised with 
 unexpected pleasures. If there is much to regret for 
 in the past, how much more is there to hope for in the 
 future. If there are many uncertainties before us, how 
 much more numerous, how much more real and pre- 
 cious the certainties. 
 
 Let us think cheerfully of the world. It is not going 
 to irretrievable ruin. It is not growing worse from year 
 to year and from age to age. Our fellow-men are not 
 sunk in hopeless imbecility and corruption. The well- 
 being of society is not absolutely dependent on the suc- 
 cess of this agency or of that institution. When one 
 
SERMONS. 125 
 
 or two men die, the hopes of humanity will not be 
 buried with them. A few failures are not a defeat. 
 Retrogression if an occasional fact, is not the law. 
 God is not dead, has not taken himself away and left 
 the world to its chances. Evil is not stronger than 
 Good. Error is not mightier than Truth. Brute Force 
 will not forever be a match for the Free Mind. Cun- 
 ning will not always get the upper hand over Hon- 
 esty. The world will not die in its delusions nor give 
 up the ghost, hugging its lies to its heart. The Bless- 
 ing, thank God, is slowly removing the Curse. Thorns 
 and thistles are making way for. the golden grain and 
 the blushing fruit. The light is advancing, the day is 
 breaking, one by one old errors and- superstitions are 
 slinking to their caves to die, while new Truths and 
 Powers are coming forth, as it were, out of their graves, 
 equipped for the battle, conquering and to conquer. 
 The seed of goodness, of heroism, of patriotism, of 
 true religion never perishes. It propagates itself from 
 generation to generation, and the spot from which the 
 Reaper bears away the ripe sheaf now, will hereafter 
 wave with the hundred-fold harvest. There is much 
 for which to thank God in the evidence with which 
 history and experience abound, that he has not left man 
 to himself. Things are not altogether as discouraging 
 even as they look. When all seem given up to idol- 
 atry, and the Lord's prophet maketh intercession, say- 
 ing, "Lord, they have killed thy prophets and digged 
 down thine altars, and I am left alone and they seek my 
 life:" What saith the answer of God unto him? " I 
 have reserved to myself seven thousand men, who have 
 not bowed the knee to the image of Baal." Good 
 cometh even out of Nazareth. The foam comes to the 
 surface, while pearls lie hidden in the deep. Out of 
 failure comes humility; out of humility strength. 
 
126 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 " Through the shadow of the globe we sweep into the 
 younger day." The God of Prophecy is the God of 
 History. The world is gradually preparing for that 
 new pentecostal Baptism, which is to dedicate it a ves- 
 sel for new and long service in the Temple of Jehovah. 
 Let us think cheerfully of the church. It is not a 
 dead skeleton, or an effete fossil. It is not as yet an 
 antiquated relic, curious only as illustrating the super- 
 stitions of the Past. Neither is it altogether an empty 
 shell of formalism, out of which the spirit of life has 
 departed. It is not pure, but it is nevertheless the salt 
 of the earth. It has its divisions, but it has also its 
 unity. Hypocrisy may lurk like a snake within its 
 fold, but the flower of sanctity, nestling in its shelter, 
 grows fairer there than elsewhere. Its influence, al- 
 though unseen, and apparently small, is yet widely 
 spread, deep, and lasting. It is not to be measured 
 either by its external bounds. For as "he is not a 
 Jew which is one outwardly: but he is a Jew, which is 
 one inwardly," so all who believe, and who walk in 
 the steps of the faith of our father Abraham, are the 
 children of Abraham, blessed with him, and heirs of 
 the promise which he received. We may rejoice there- 
 fore that the Church is broader than those visible and 
 necessary limits by which it is separated from the 
 world; and while we may well mourn that there is so 
 much of the world in the Church, v/e may give thanks 
 that there is not a little of the Church in the world: 
 in other words, that there is so much of real Chris- 
 tianity outside of our ecclesiastical organizations. The 
 Kingdom of heaven is as Christ described it, like 
 leaven, spreading upwards, downwards, sideways, and 
 in all directions, diffusing everywhere its purifying, en- 
 nobling, regenerating, and elevating influences, raising 
 the standard of social and private morality, giving a 
 
SERMONS. 127 
 
 higher tone to public sentiment, dislodging vice and 
 corruption from one stronghold after another, putting 
 the brand of infamy on whatever is dishonorable and 
 base, making the pursuit and observance of virtue 
 easier to all who honestly and faithfully undertake it. 
 The church with all its imperfections and shortcomings 
 is still precious to God. 
 
 " Dear as the apple of his eye 
 And graven on his hand." 
 
 Although at times the fire burns low, and it seems 
 chilly and gloomy enough, it is yet the hearthstone of 
 God's household in this world, the home of the Chris- 
 tian brotherhood, where heavenlier joys abound, and 
 diviner pleasures flow, than in any other spot on earth 
 not similarly consecrated by the presence and love of 
 God. 
 
 Let us think cheerfully of our age. It is not the 
 worst age known in history. The bad men of our time 
 are not monsters, the like of whom have never been 
 seen. The good men of our times are not degenerated 
 below comparison with the good men of the past. He- 
 roism is not entirely extinct, neither is it altogether infe- 
 rior in quality. Virtue is not at its very lowest ebb. 
 Dishonesty, fraud, peculation, sensuality, all forms of 
 immorality are not more rife than they have been. God 
 knows that they abound, that there is enough — and 
 more than enough — of them to occupy the utmost energy 
 of every worker and soldier of the Lord. But it has 
 always been so. It will be so for a long time yet. We 
 see and know and feel more of the wickedness, and 
 misery, and shame of to-day, than of the same things 
 in other centuries, because telegraphs and newspapers 
 bring them from all corners of the world to our own 
 doors. But the age regarded in its leading tendencies, 
 its moving forces, its purposes, endeavors, and results is 
 
128 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 a bright, noble, and hopeful age, rich with promise, 
 abounding in glad omens of joy to the nations of the 
 earth — an age in which we may well rejoice that we 
 are permitted to live. 
 
 Let us think cheerfully of our trials. Sore, severe 
 they may be, hard to bear, unaccountable, different 
 from all we had hoped for or had reason to [expect. 
 Still they are not the worst that might have befallen 
 us. They are not sent to crush our spirits, to break 
 our hearts. They do not subject us to losses for 
 which heaven has no compensation. They are not 
 more bitter, more insupportable than have fallen to the 
 lot of those who have gone before us. He who learns 
 to carry the cross, will learn hereafter to carry the scep- 
 ter. Trials make us humble, and blessed are the hum- 
 ble, for they shall be exalted. Trials make us strong, 
 not in the consciousness of our own power, but in the 
 sense of God's strength made perfect in our weakness. 
 Some days must be dark and rainy days, otherwise the 
 vineyard would yield no wine, nor the orchard bear 
 fruit. If there w r ere no storms the atmosphere would 
 be loaded with death. If there were no clouds, there 
 would be no majestic processions of the King of Glory 
 through the skies. 
 
 " Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take, 
 The clouds ye so much dread 
 Are big with mercy, and will break 
 With blessings on your head." 
 
 "All these things are against me/' said Jacob, in a 
 moment of doubt. "All things work together for 
 good to them that love God," said Paul in the full tri- 
 umph of faith. 
 
 Let us think cheerfully of our work. It is indeed 
 no holiday play. Its demands are stern and inexor- 
 able. There is no laying down of arms in our warfare. 
 God's soldier once, God's soldier always. There are no 
 
SERMONS. I29 
 
 furloughs in the service ; there is no going into winter 
 quarters. Our term of enlistment never expires. Death 
 is promotion, not dismissal. Woe be to the man whose 
 duties have not been performed, and who is not ready 
 for higher service! Alas for him whose heart has 
 failed him ere the battle of life is won! "No man 
 having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, 
 is fit for the Kingdom of God." But God's work is its 
 own reward. To fight is at the last to conquer. To 
 plough is to reap. It is not sowing to the winds. It 
 is not beating the air. It is not running in vain. It 
 is not exhaustion, weariness and then a long, torpid 
 sleep; it is enlargement, growth, expansion, a coming 
 to the stature of a perfect man, and then a joyous 
 awakening, a resurrection of the whole man to a new 
 and larger life. 
 
 Why should we not think cheerfully of all these 
 things? With such a God to serve, with such a Father 
 to watch over us and to bless us, with such a Brother 
 in heaven to remember and to love us, with such a 
 Helper on earth to sanctify and comfort us, with such 
 a heavenly brotherhood reaching from heaven to earth, 
 and from earth to heaven to sympathize with us, 
 with such a world and such an age to live in, with 
 such discipline to chasten and ennoble us, with such 
 a blessed service to perform, with such a heaven be- 
 fore us, why should we not be cheerful? Why 
 should we not rejoice evermore? What thought 
 should discourage us and take away our cheer? The 
 thought of our sorrows? But they are the seeds of 
 heavenly joys. The thought of our losses ? But what 
 is it to win Christ? The thought of ourselves? But 
 why think of ourselves? Let our thoughts then be 
 cheerful, such as God loveth. Let the sunshine of his 
 smile be woven into them and around them. Let them 
 
130 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 shine as the wings of angels. Let them echo the mel- 
 odies of heaven. If all our thoughts are bright, our 
 whole lives will be cheerful. They will go forth like 
 the voices of spring, diffusing gladness, content and joy 
 abroad in the world. Many a poor wayfarer who has 
 sunk down wearied by the wayside, will resume his 
 journey with a lighter heart, and a lighter burden, and 
 go on his way rejoicing. Many an unhappy wanderer, 
 led astray by false words, or driven astray, it may be, 
 by harsh ones, may be restored to the right path. 
 Many a tired wanderer, oppressed by his foes, whose 
 heart is growing fainter and fainter, and whose blows 
 fall feebler and feebler, will take new courage and gain 
 new victories. Many a discouraged laborer, whose 
 ploughing and sowing seem to have been all in vain, will 
 begin anew to "sow beside all waters," believing that 
 
 " Grace keeps the precious germ alive 
 When and wherever strown." 
 
 Our looks will be cheerful. There will be fewer 
 careworn, pale, troubled, haggard faces in the world; 
 fewer anxious, painful, eager countenances, that seem 
 to be peering into everlasting darkness ; fewer dark and 
 clouded countenances, as though the shadow of some 
 cruel doubt were forever resting on them ; fewer moody, 
 discontented faces, that indicate the determination to 
 be pleased with nothing that happens; fewer gloomy, 
 morose, misanthropic faces, that are a declaration of 
 hostilities against the whole human race ; fewer reserved, 
 impenetrable faces, that keep the soul in a state of 
 blockade from the outer world; fewer proud, supercil- 
 ious, freezing countenances, that make the beholder 
 shiver in midsummer; fewer suspicious faces, that look 
 as though they conveyed an indictment against all 
 mankind in general, and every body else in particular; 
 fewer selfish, hard, insensible countenances, which seem 
 
SERMONS. I 3 I 
 
 to say that the heart is not at home ; fewer blank vapid 
 faces, that seem to say — nothing at all ! Sunny thoughts 
 will make sunny faces. Men's looks will be at once out- 
 lets and inlets to their souls ; outlets by which their 
 souls go forth to others, to brighten and to cheer them, 
 inlets or windows by which others can look into them. 
 Men, in their utterances, their appearances, their char- 
 acters, their whole lives, will mirror the smiles of 
 Divine Joy, delighting with infinite pleasure in ' ' what- 
 soever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, 
 whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, 
 whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of 
 good report." 
 
 "God loveth the cheerful giver:" — who comes into 
 his presence with gladness and thanksgiving, whose 
 songs are cheerful songs, whose prayers are cheerful 
 prayers, whose devotion is penetrated with holy joy. 
 There ought to be no place on earth more cheerful than 
 God's house. It should be a place where the worldly- 
 minded will be struck with the conviction that there are 
 no joys like those of religion, no people so happy as 
 those who can say, the Lord is our God. It should be 
 a place where the weary feel abundantly refreshed, 
 where the mourning may feel comforted ; where all may 
 feel elevated with joy, where the only load known 
 should be that of sin, and where that should be known 
 only to be lost at the foot of the Cross. God loveth 
 the cheerful sufferer, the man or the woman who bears 
 without repining the afflictions of life, who submits with- 
 out a murmur to its loss, who even rejoices in the 
 thought that every sorrow and trial is proof, not that 
 God has forgotten his child, but rather that he remembers 
 his child, that his is a soul beloved of God. For it is to 
 the glory of God that he can inspire such submission, 
 such trustfulness, such love, that his servant will take 
 
132 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 even the bitter cup at his hands, and drink it with cheer- 
 ful resignation, saying, " Father, not my will, but thine 
 be done !" It is to the glory of God when his promises 
 are believed in, although all around is gloom and dark- 
 ness, and when the cheerful songs of the bleeding heart 
 bear witness to the assurance that even in his chastise- 
 ment, God is love. 
 
 God loveth the cheerful worker — for by his cheer- 
 fulness he bears witness to the delightsomeness of his 
 service: — he testifies that God's Yoke is easy and his 
 burden is mild, that he is the best, the most tender, 
 and just of masters ; that the shame and reproach of his 
 service are better than the honors and praises of the 
 world, that in keeping of his commandments there is 
 great reward ; that his work can alone satisfy all the 
 desires, and capabilities, and scope of the soul ; that his 
 followers have a hundred fold in this life, and in the 
 world to come life everlasting. 
 
 It is our duty to be cheerful, to commune with the 
 bright aspects of truth, to look at the sunward, that is 
 the Godward side of everything, to come into sympa- 
 thy with that Infinite Joy which pulsates in every act 
 and manifestation of God. 
 
 It is a privilege to be cheerful. Our happiness, our 
 usefulness will be increased in manifold measure; our 
 fellowship with God and with one another will be purer, 
 and fuller, and we shall dwell forever in the favor of 
 Him, who as he loves the cheerful giver, loves every 
 one who cheerfully surrenders his best and his all to 
 the direction of one so wise, so watchful, so good. 
 
 J 
 
V. 
 
 THE NEW COMMANDMENT. 
 
 John 13 ; 34. "A new commandment I give unto you, that ye love one another; 
 as I have loved you, that ye also love one another." 
 
 It is the grand character of Christianity as an educa- 
 tional system, that it presents truth and duty, not as 
 abstractions, not as barren formulas, but as incarnate 
 living realities. The Bible gives us few definitions, but 
 many illustrations. The Eleventh Chapter of Hebrews 
 may be taken as a fair specimen of its method. The 
 first verse is a definition : the remainder of the chapter 
 (and it is longer than most,) is a series of illustrations. 
 Truth is not unfolded to us as a system, but dramatized 
 (if I may say so) as a History. Duty is not limited to 
 the bare prescription of what is to be done, but en- 
 forced by living examples, arranged in fair adornments, 
 .and surrounded by such accompaniments of motion 
 and illustration, as serve more clearly to define, and 
 more urgently to recommend it. Along with each duty 
 God furnishes the standard of its performance, the 
 measure of its fullness. "Be ye perfect even as your 
 Father which is in heaven is perfect." "Thou shalt 
 love the Lord thy God, with all thy heart, and with all 
 thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy 
 strength." "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thy- 
 self." "I have given you an example that ye should 
 do as I have done to you." " As I have loved you 
 
 (133) 
 
134 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 that ye also love one another." It is only when we 
 have raised our performance to these inspired standards, 
 only when we grow up in all things into Christ, who is 
 the head, and come up to the measure of the standard 
 of his fullness, that we attain unto perfect manhood. 
 The lesson of the text was designed more immediately 
 for the disciples, and it has still a specific application 
 to his professed followers. Christ's love for his disci- 
 ples is to be the measure, the law, of their love one 
 for another. But the principle is susceptible of uni- 
 versal application. Christ loves all men and his love 
 for all is the standard by which our benevolence is to 
 be measured. Moreover, as this feeling of benevolence 
 or love is the root of all our relations and actions 
 toward others, we may state the principle still more 
 broadly as follows : In all our relations and duties and 
 conduct toward others, we are to be governed by the 
 example of Christ. Let us consider what this rule of 
 action implies, or in other words, what general course 
 of conduct toward our fellow-men, is made obligatory 
 on us by the example of Christ. 
 
 I. In the first place, the example of Christ requires 
 that we should distinguish between men and the cir- 
 cumstances. I use the word circumstances not merely 
 in its later and restricted sense of station or social posi- 
 tion, but in its earlier and broader sense, of all that 
 which stands around one, which surrounds him, which, 
 without being a part of the man himself, belongs to 
 him. Among these circumstances we may mention 
 rank, wealth, honors, titles, social considerations, party, 
 family, race. It is manifest to begin with that we are 
 very much influenced in our judgments and feelings 
 concerning others by these belongings and accidents. 
 It is unavoidable, indeed, that it should be so. It is 
 neither possible, nor would it be desirable, if it were 
 
SERMONS. 135 
 
 possible, to dismiss these considerations altogether out 
 of account. Thus, for example, race is a great histor- 
 ical and ethical fact, whose foundations lie deep in the 
 constitution of humanity. It is a wise and important 
 arrangement of Providence for the better accomplish- 
 ment of the work which the family of man is to do on 
 earth. As such it has its claims on us all who are sub- 
 ject to it. There are certain feelings, and duties which 
 belong especially to each individual as member of a cer- 
 tain race, just as there are feelings and duties which be- 
 long to each as member of a certain family. I am 
 justified in loving the nation of which God has made 
 me one ; in maintaining its honor, in seeking its inter- 
 ests, in aiding it to accomplish its historical mission in 
 the world. 
 
 Wealth, again, has its claims in our consideration of 
 men. Money is power, in so far as it is a symbol of 
 what man has done, of what he has achieved and of 
 what he has the power of achieving ; in so far as it repre- 
 sents the confidence which society places in his abilities 
 and the worth which it puts on his services. 
 
 Titles also, rank, official honors, positions of author- 
 ity and influence, all by which society expresses its 
 faith in men, its appreciation of personal merit, in the 
 matter of social organization, have the claim upon a just 
 measure of our regard. Parties, schools, sects, in re- 
 gard to the various subjects of thought and belief on 
 which we are called to judge and act, are unavoidable 
 and not without their advantages. They stimulate in- 
 quiry, and help us to broader and juster views. And 
 we cannot help recognizing the bonds which unite to- 
 gether men of similar opinions and aims in regard to 
 those great questions, in the settlement of which we are 
 all interested. 
 
 Circumstances, then, are of necessity an element 
 
I36 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 which we cannot disregard in determining our relations 
 to others, as well as in determining those judgments 
 and feelings which grow out of those relations. This how- 
 ever is very different from saying that circumstances are 
 the only or the principal element in that determination. 
 They are not to be left out of the account, but they are 
 not to rule. We cannot consider man altogether apart 
 from the circumstances, the belongings, but we must not 
 identify men with these. We must not, however, allow 
 these considerations to blind us to facts of greater con- 
 sequence than they are. We must not put that which 
 is about the man, the dress which he wears, the pedes- 
 tal on which he stands, for the man himself. We must 
 not confound the accident with the substance. Bancroft 
 defines democracy to be the doctrine of the superiority 
 of man over his accidents. This doctrine is not only 
 democracy ; it is Christianity. Manhood above race ; 
 manhood above nationality; manhood above family; 
 manhood above money; manhood above party, man- 
 hood above every circumstance whatsoever, this is the 
 fundamental principle of Christian democratic humanity. 
 If I let my partiality for my own race carry me so far 
 that I shall wrong one of another race, deny him any 
 right which belongs to him as a man, refuse him any 
 honor which is due to his worth, withhold from him 
 any privilege which would make him a better man, a 
 more useful member of society, put any burden on him 
 which tends to crush his manhood, I sin against my 
 brother, I sin against my own manhood, I sin against 
 Christ. If because of a man's family connections, or 
 social position, I wink at his vices, and gloss his crimes, 
 if I accord to him a measure of deference and respect, 
 which I should scorn to accord to one less favored in 
 his family, or social relations, or if on the other hand, 
 because a man's connections are humble and for no other 
 
SERMONS. 137 
 
 reason I hold him at arm's length, treat him with cold- 
 ness, indifference, superciliousness, a man whom but for 
 this accident of position I should be proud to honor, 
 and to name my friend, I am guilty of conduct which 
 is unworthy of a man. Why, the very fact that a man 
 fights his way up, rises by virtue of an excellence which 
 is superior to the plane in which he is first placed, shows 
 his worthiness to take the highest seat, proves him 
 one of nature's noblemen, and this in despite of all ad- 
 verse circumstances. This should be his surest passport 
 to any circle and to any heart worthy of him. You 
 love your garden and prize its floral beauties, and enjoy 
 strolling among these better than wading through a bog. 
 But if in some stagnant, reedy fen, you see the soul of 
 beauty, nestling in some lily, which grows amid the 
 rank and slimy weeds, pure as the brow of an angel, 
 you will gather it more joyfully and cherish it yet more 
 tenderly and lovingly, than the proudest queen of the 
 garden. 
 
 If I let my party zeal outrun my charity, if my love 
 for the system or church in which I believe is exagger- 
 ated into bigotry, if every one outside of my own cir- 
 cle of thought and faith is a pariah, or at best a non- 
 entity, if I can not see that God has many schools and 
 many teachers, and suspect every man whose accent 
 and dialect differs from mine, I am verily as yet, a poor, 
 blind slave. Where, hearer, do we stand in reference 
 to these obligations due from us to manhood as such? 
 The world has much to do yet, to purify itself of its 
 shortcomings in these respects. Even in this Demo- 
 cratic .and Christian land, as we claim it to be, soci- 
 ety has many steps to take before it will stand on that 
 lofty ground to which Christ beckons us. Even here 
 there are brands of degradation, which scarcely the 
 blood of heroic daring and dying is allowed to wipe 
 
I38 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 away. There are classes, to which its members are 
 confined with little less rigor than those who belong to 
 a Hindu caste. There are circles which would as soon 
 think of tolerating manhood without money, as a man 
 without a coat. There are estates and conditions which 
 are like deep ravines, flanked by declivities and thorny 
 precipices, from which it is all but impossible to climb. 
 When one by dint of hard labor climbs very near the 
 top, and already rejoices in the hope of planting him- 
 self on the summit, too often the heel of prejudice 
 spurns him down again, with a plunging crash to the 
 bottom, where he lies bruised, broken, ruined, with no 
 heart to try again. 
 
 But what is the example which Christ has left us in 
 this matter? How do we find him conducting him- 
 self toward others? He looks at each one as he is in 
 himself, as a man. His vision is never blinded or con- 
 fused by any one's surroundings. He knows just how 
 and where to separate between a man and that which 
 has gathered about him. He knows exactly how much 
 is due to the circumstances, how much to the man. He 
 understands what is essential and what is accidental. 
 No one can hope to be accepted by Christ for more 
 than his personal worth. No one need fear to be ac- 
 cepted for less than his worth. His glance burns through 
 all the adventitious and fictitious envelopes in which 
 men are sometimes bound. Amid the dross which 
 gathers around the nugget, he discerns the pure gold if 
 there be any, and knows just how much there is of it. 
 It is vain to rely on pompous pretentions, on class priv- 
 ileges, on hereditary or acquired distinctions, on any one 
 of the foundations on which personal pride and social 
 prejudice so often rest, and are built up. ' ' Jesus did not 
 commit himself unto them because he knew all men, and 
 needed not that any should testify of man, because he 
 
SERMONS. 139 
 
 knew what was in man." He needed not any of those 
 artificial auxiliaries by which our judgments are formed, 
 and on which our opinions and actions so largely de- 
 pend. He showed no regard to the commendatory 
 plaudits of society. He did not hold as of the highest 
 value its proscriptive edicts. He did not honor a man 
 because worldly maxims and creeds made him honor- 
 able. He did not scorn him because he did not pro- 
 nounce the Shibboleth of a school or of a class. The 
 Pharisees, flaunting broad phylacteries, found in him no 
 smooth-tongued sycophant. Publicans and sinners, 
 scorned and shunned by the religious aristocracy of the 
 day, found in him a wise and gentle-hearted friend. He 
 received the Pharisee as a man — nothing more, He re- 
 ceived the Publican as a man — nothing less. He knew 
 no sect, no caste, no privileged class, no superior or in- 
 ferior orders. He knew only — man! The woman of 
 Samaria is heard asking in astonishment : ' ' How is it 
 that thou being a Jew askest drink of me which am a 
 woman of Samaria?" The proud and contemptuous 
 Pharisee sees him allow the outcast to bathe his feet with 
 her tears. He mingles with the rich and noble as their 
 equal. The dying thief on the cross hears him say: 
 " To-day shalt thou be with me in Paradise." Thus did 
 Christ love men, and the new commandment which he 
 has given us is, " As I have loved you, do ye also love 
 one another." 
 
 II. In the next place the example of Christ requires 
 that we should distinguish between that which is real, 
 internal, substantial in men, and that which is apparent, 
 external, superficial. 
 
 Even after you take a man out of his circumstances, 
 after you strip him of his surroundings, there is a great 
 deal yet within the compass of his own personality, of 
 which you must strip him, or through which you must 
 
140 LLEWELYN I0AN EVANS. 
 
 penetrate, before you can get at his real self. Just as it 
 is difficult to separate between a luminous body, and the 
 halo which gathers round it, so as to mark out sharply 
 the outline of the flame, so it is difficult to separate 
 the inward in the man, from the outward. Some 
 people have the trick of seeming larger than they 
 really are. It is said that the French people were very 
 much surprised after the death of Louis XIV, at find- 
 ing that his body was so much smaller than they had 
 supposed. The Grand Monarque had succeeded in 
 making an exaggerated impression of his personal pro- 
 portions by the pomp, and circumstances and grand- 
 eur of air, which he assumed. And so intellectually 
 and morally, some seem to fill up a much larger space 
 than they really do. Others look smaller than they 
 really are. Some, like comets, go blazing along a way, 
 drawing a long nebulous cloud after them, and attract- 
 ing much attention for the time, although when they 
 are more narrowly examined, the nucleus of solid mat- 
 ter in them is found to be exceedingly small. Others 
 are like stars that twinkle and flicker as though they 
 were on the point of going out, although when you 
 bring the telescope to bear on them, you find them to 
 be majestic, mighty suns. Manners do much for men, 
 as it is right to a certain extent they should. It is the 
 right of a man or woman of graceful ways and speech 
 to command homage and devotion. For after all, the 
 best and most genuine manners are not far removed 
 from the noblest qualities of the heart. It was perhaps 
 the perception of this which led the earlier Romans to 
 apply the same rule to manners and morals. Accom- 
 plishments are not to be despised. All those natural 
 gifts and acquired arts, which give our access to the. 
 affections and regard of others, which carry with them 
 the power to charm, to attract and influence others, are 
 
SERMONS. 141 
 
 to be esteemed and prized. Only let us beware of 
 being misled. We are in danger of overvaluing 
 these, or perhaps I should say of undervaluing the 
 more solid, real and profound qualities of a perfect char- 
 acter. In fact, men are continually falling into this error. 
 And the worst of it is, that too often they are willing to 
 be deceived. At least I know not how otherwise to 
 account for such facts as these. A man of plausible 
 ways, specious manners, versatility, wit, tact in social 
 converse, will find entrance, where if his recognition 
 were made to depend on the amount of real manhood 
 in him, he would find the door slammed in his face. 
 A person whose entire mental capital is the airy noth- 
 ings that sparkle like froth on the surface of fashionable 
 society, will be welcomed, where if a respectable amount 
 of intelligence, and a respectable number of elevated 
 ideas were required as the price of admission, he would 
 be a hopeless candidate for recognition. A person who 
 is versed in the art of flattery, who is careful only to 
 please and acquire popularity, and careless to compro- 
 mise either the truth or his own integrity will be re- 
 ceived with open arms, while another whose exterior is 
 the leaden casket, hiding the jewel of a noble soul, who 
 despises trickery and affectation, whose slightest thought 
 or feeling contains more heart and brain than the former 
 could put into a life, finds cold cheer and freezing wel- 
 come. 
 
 Again, we often fail to distinguish as we should be- 
 tween a man's former and his present self. There are 
 cases, to be sure, where it is right to remember a man 
 as he was, rather than as he is. This is the right of any 
 grand old man, the hero of a glorious life campaign, in 
 whom the fire of the past now flickers but feebly, and 
 in whom only the shadow of the departed greatness 
 remains. But, on the other hand, we often let the 
 
I4-* LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 shadow of an unfortunate past obscure the true beauty 
 and worth of the present. The memory of anything 
 disadvantageous will haunt one through life, eclipsing 
 much real merit. There are those whom a single fail- 
 ure drags down and keeps down. There is a social 
 pride which never forgets, never forgives. 
 
 Not so has Christ taught us — <( Bear ye one another's 
 burdens" is his law. " Whoso shall offend one of 
 these little ones, which believe in me, it were better 
 that a mill-stone were hanged about his neck, and that 
 he were drowned in the depths of the sea." " Judge 
 not according to the appearance, but judge righteous 
 judgment. ' i By their fruits, not by their professions, 
 ye shall know them." Such, also, is the example which 
 he has left us. The smooth plausibilities of the Phari- 
 see did not impose on him. The stammering diffidence 
 of the Publican did not excite his contempt. The os- 
 tentatious hospitality of the rich did not dazzle his 
 eyes and prevent his seeing and rebuking its hollow- 
 ness. In the widow's mite, he saw a love larger than 
 all the other money in the treasury could measure. He 
 sees everyone as he is, and whosoever cometh to him 
 he will in no wise cast out. So does Christ love men ; 
 thus does he command us: "As I have loved you, 
 love ye one another." 
 
 III. The love which Christ bears for men and which 
 is the standard of our love, may be most fully summed 
 up by calling it the love of a brother. We have seen 
 how the various circles of human relationship too often 
 degenerate into nurseries of selfish views and prejudices. 
 Sectional feelings, party animosities, sectarian bigotries, 
 social exclusiveness, family pride, the narrowmindedness 
 of faction, the superciliousness of caste — ahese are so 
 many indications of the way in which the brotherhood 
 of the human family is encroached upon by the exag- 
 
SERMONS. 143 
 
 gerated and perverted sentiment of narrow spheres. 
 How are these to be resisted ? I answer, by looking 
 at our brotherhood as Christ reveals it. He is identi- 
 fied with humanity, that runs all the way through 
 every degree and condition of human life. No man, 
 whatever his race, rank, nation, profession, style, or 
 type of character, may not say "Christ is my brother." 
 He brings all together before God, and says, "Call no 
 man your Father upon the Earth, for one is your 
 Father which is in heaven, and all ye are brethren." 
 Not one body of men anywhere can say with any ex- 
 clusive claim, " Christ is ours." He had not where to 
 lay his head. Yet Nicodemus, the ruler, stood up for 
 him in the Sanhedrim, and brought myrrh and aloes to 
 embalm his body, and Joseph, the rich man of Arima- 
 thea, procured his body of Pilate and laid it in his own 
 new tomb. He preached to the poor, and the rich came 
 to take counsel of him. He dined with the wealthy 
 Pharisee, he ate with publicans and sinners. The com- 
 mon people heard him gladly, and the educated mar- 
 veled at his wisdom. His character was so symmetrical 
 that no one type will express it. He combined the 
 force, the massiveness, the breadth of man, with the 
 tenderness, the refinement, the depth of woman. He 
 was stern as the rock, gentle as the dew ; bold as the 
 lion, meek as the lamb ; wise as the serpent, harmless 
 as the dove. He is the center where all perfection 
 meets. His manhood rises above all like the mount- 
 ains, it expands over all like the firmanent, it shines 
 upon all like the light, and every one everywhere can 
 always say of him, as we say of mountains, of heavens, 
 of light, " He is mine." 
 
 And now it is our duty to lift ourselves up to Christ, 
 to reach out to every point in the circumference of his 
 life, to come forth out of that narrow, contracted, un- 
 
144 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 natural self, into which the world with its thousand 
 adverse powers squeezes us, into that broad, free, gen- 
 erous manhood, of which Christ is the type. We must 
 outgrow the narrowness and littleness and shallowness, 
 into which our lives run here and there ; we must get 
 rid of the conventionalisms, the professionalisms which 
 grow around us ; we must strive to exert an influence 
 not narrow and partial, like that which the old astrolo- 
 gers attributed to the planets, but quickening, enlarging, 
 fructifying, like that of the summer sun. In proportion 
 as we become like Christ shall we be recognized and 
 claimed by all as brethren. In loving and treating each 
 man as a brother Christ regards all the facts of his con- 
 dition and recognizes f?he circumstances which have acted 
 en him, and which have extended an important influ- 
 ence in forming his character and deciding his destiny. 
 The Bible takes pains to tell us that Christ is ' \ touched 
 with the feeling of our infirmities, for in that he himself 
 hath suffered being tempted, he is able to succor them 
 that are tempted." He sees in every man a brother, 
 who has been agitated by conflicting emotions, who has 
 been driven hither and thither by distracting passions, 
 who has been tossed about by the winds of temptation, 
 buffeted by the waves of affliction, wrecked it may be 
 on the " Shoals of guilt," who has made the voyage of 
 life amid storms and breakers, with broken masts, torn 
 sails, shattered rudder, and leaky sides. He sees not 
 one whose will has been his destiny, not one who has 
 molded his character, as our artist forms his statue in 
 the studio where in quiet and uninterrupted communion 
 with his ideal, he gradually and carefully molds his 
 cast, and chisels the marble into the image of the dream 
 of his brain, — but in man Christ sees one who has been 
 shaping his life in the rough quarry, where his foot slips, 
 where his hand is struck aside, where the hurricane or ava- 
 
SERMONS. 145 
 
 lanche dashes down his work. He sees one who is tempted, 
 who is weak, whose mind and will are not always his own. 
 He sees him come into the world of evil influences, 
 with susceptibilities to bad impressions, with deranged 
 sensibilities, with inherited infirmities, with no knowl- 
 edge of himself, or of the world, or of what lies before 
 him, assailed by strong temptations, blinded by errors, 
 whirled by the tempest, dashed from fall to fall, each 
 leaving him weaker and more helpless than he was be- 
 fore. Christ sees all this : and although he himself fell 
 not, although he knew no defeat, no overthrow, no 
 wreck, he knows what it is to be tried. He is filled 
 with sympathy. He knows how guilty we are, none 
 better ; it was because he knew so well our guilt, that 
 he endured the cross ; but he also knows — none better, 
 how weak we are, how ignorant, how helpless. ' ' Father, 
 forgive them! they know not what they do!" Thus 
 did he pray when his holy heart was most deeply grieved 
 by the iniquity of man, when the exceeding sinfulness 
 of sin stood revealed before him in its most damning 
 deed. Yea ! it was even in that hour that the thief at 
 his side was encouraged to pray, "Lord! remember 
 me when thou comest into thy Kingdom ! " Not as a 
 cold, unfeeling censor does Christ receive sinners; nor 
 even as a stern, impartial judge, robed in the severity 
 of Eternal Justice: Nay! but as a brother, unfallen, in- 
 fallible, Divine, but as a brother still. He does not 
 indeed extenuate our unworthiness, he does not hide 
 from us our guilt, nor make us forget how deeply we 
 have sinned, — Ah, no ! Where — where do we feel so un- 
 worthy, where does the load of our guilt feel so heavy, 
 where do the depths of our heart's degradation appear 
 so dreadful, where do we feel such shame, such self- 
 condemnation, such humiliation as in the arms of Jesus? 
 But, oh ! where is such confidence, such beaming hope, 
 
I46 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 such cheerful self-abandonment, . such joyous boldness, 
 such delightful assurance as on the bosom of our Lord, 
 on the heart of our Elder Brother? 
 
 The love of Jesus ! Who can describe it ? It is the 
 same forever. It suffers no unfaithfulness, or unworthi- 
 ness in its object to cool or change it. It measures 
 itself by no merit in that on which it bestows itself. 
 It has no tides and ebbs; no such barriers as circum- 
 scribe our love. No ! Ah, No ! It is its own measure ; 
 its own law; its own cause. It is its own source; its 
 own channel ; its own supply ; its own moving' energy. 
 He loves because to love is his life, because to love is 
 worthy of himself, because if he were to cease loving, 
 he would cease to be the Son of God. And his love 
 clothes whomsoever he loves, with its own glory. It 
 carries the poor, imperfect, sin-stricken soul to its 
 Mount of Transfiguration, and there beholds it in its 
 future brightness and perfection, as the Disciples in the 
 Mount beheld their Lord in the radiance of his coming 
 glory. As Christ receives us into his fellowship and 
 love, he sees in us not what others see, but Himself, 
 the Lord from Heaven. He receives the weary wan- 
 derer without upbraiding, with no reproaches, but with 
 a love which breaks down the heart more completely 
 than the severest censure, with a winning gentleness, 
 whose silent eloquence is more overpowering than the 
 loudest chidings, welcoming him with open arms and 
 open heart to the hospitalities of boundless and endless 
 grace. Shall we, companions in guilt, hold one another 
 off, and act the censor, criticising, condemning, tortur- 
 ing one another with the refined cruelties of sanctimo- 
 nious self-righteousness? Ah! brethren, the holier 
 we become, the more we have of the spirit and love of 
 Christ, the less will there be of that, and the more of 
 brotherly welcome, guidance, and aid. The more we 
 
SERMONS. 147 
 
 are in Christ, the more shall we be one in Christ. Out 
 of Christ there can be no brotherhood, in Christ there 
 can be nothing else. All elements of difference and 
 incompatibility are there annulled ; every partition wall 
 is broken down. "Ye are all the children of God by 
 faith in Jesus Christ. For as many of you as have been 
 baptized in Christ have put on Christ. There is neither 
 Jew nor Greek ; there is neither bond nor free ; there 
 is neither male nor female ; for ye are all one in Jesus 
 Christ." 
 
 Let this be our aim : to love more as our Elder 
 Brother loves, with a love which will be itself a living 
 proof that we are his brethren, because our love is 
 something like his. 
 
VI. 
 
 LIVING WATER. 
 
 John 4, 14, latter part. The water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of 
 water, springing up into everlasting life. 
 
 « 
 
 Christ is here speaking of the life which he imparts 
 to the soul that believes on him. This life he de- 
 scribes by one of those simple, beautiful and suggest- 
 ive images, which he knew so well how to use, and 
 which make the facts of religion so clear and attract- 
 ive. He was sitting, a wearied and thirsty traveler, at 
 the well of Jacob in the Samaritan village of Sychar. 
 It was the hour of noon, and a woman of the village 
 came to draw water. "Jesus saith unto her: Give 
 me to drink." Bitter sectional and sectarian animosi- 
 ties then existed between the inhabitants of Judea and 
 Samaria, and were carried even to the suspension of 
 all intercourse, so that the Samaritan woman was ex- 
 ceedingly surprised at being thus accosted by a Jew, 
 especially at having a favor asked of her: and she said 
 to him, "How is it, that thou being a Jew, askest 
 drink of me, which am a woman of Samaria?" Christ, 
 as he had already shown himself far superior to such 
 paltry prejudices, did not in his reply so much as al- 
 lude to the matter suggested by the woman, but fall- 
 ing back on his own lofty character and mission, he 
 said, ' ' If thou knewest the gift of God, and who it is 
 (148) 
 
SERMONS. I49 
 
 that saith to thee, give me to drink : thou wouldst have 
 asked of him, and he would have given thee living 
 water." Just as we might have expected, the woman, 
 ignorant, prejudiced, superficial as she was, had not 
 the remotest conception of the sublime truth thus an- 
 nounced to her; but taking the terms " water" and 
 " drink," in their literal sense, and having had her 
 curiosity and her pride touched by the words of Je- 
 sus, she replied with mingled incredulity, wonder and 
 disdain, Sir, thou hast nothing to draw with, and the 
 well is deep ; from whence then hast thou this living 
 water? Art thou greater than our father Jacob, which 
 gave us the well and drank thereof himself and his 
 children and his cattle? Christ then made to her 
 that strange reply of which the text is a part, ' ' Who- 
 soever drinketh of this water shall thirst again; but 
 whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him 
 shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him 
 shall be in him a well of water springing up into ever- 
 lasting life." This latter clause, to which I ask your 
 especial attention, seems designed to expand and still 
 further develop the truth implied in the gift of living 
 water. Christ says that this gift is not a boon to sat- 
 isfy a present want, not like a cup of water given to 
 quench the traveler's thirst, but a gift which is to 
 abide, to be retained, to develop the same, and even 
 greater results, a " fountain springing up into ever- 
 lasting life." 
 
 This image of a fountain will suggest to your minds 
 several characteristics of the Christian life. It may 
 suggest the idea of purity. As it oozes upward and 
 greets the light, strained through the filter of sand and 
 gravel and soil, how it sparkles with brightness, and 
 how its drops shine with the transparency of crystals ! 
 Such is holiness, pure as the unstained diamond, clear 
 
150 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 as the dew ! It may suggest the idea of fulness. The 
 heat of summer may parch the surrounding region, dry 
 up all the standing pools and reservoirs which are filled 
 from the clouds; but the little fountain, defying the 
 globe of fire which makes the heaven as brass, pours 
 forth, in undiminished fullness, its bright and limpid 
 waters. Such is the life of God in the soul. Earthly 
 possessions may pass away, worldly comforts may per- 
 ish, present supplies may fail, but this life will still send 
 forth streams of undiminished power and joy. It may 
 also suggest the idea of life. It is not a stagnant, dead 
 mass on which the slime gathers, over which death 
 broods, and which exhales deadly vapors, it is an ac- 
 tive, moving body, never at rest, ever rolling up vol- 
 umes of influence, which will be felt as far as the 
 streams born of it can travel. So, of the holy life. 
 It is true life, incessant activity, self-purifying and 
 earth renewing. 
 
 A fountain will also suggest joy. As it bubbles up, 
 and gurgles in its depths, and trickles over its basin's 
 edge, its drops tinkling like tiny bells of silver, and 
 gathering themselves together to murmur their way 
 along in melodious sounds, is it not a very child of 
 joy? Is not its birth a laugh, and its life a song? So 
 also is the heavenly life born of the joys of heaven, 
 and in every ripple of gladness that smiles on its sur- 
 face, is mirrored the fulness of joy that flows at the 
 right hand of God. A spring will suggest beneficence, 
 unselfishness. How genuine it is ; never hoarding, ever 
 giving, one drop running away that it may make room 
 for another, while it bestows itself somewhere else. 
 And such is the life of Divine Love, never hoarding, 
 ever giving, or hoarding only that it may give, squan- 
 dering itself, lavishing itself, content to lose itself, to be 
 changed (so to speak) into vapor, dew or rain, or to 
 
SERMONS. 1 5 I 
 
 run on in the humble channel of life, and to be left at 
 the root of some ' ' tree, planted by rivers of waters, 
 that shall bring forth fruit in his season." Once more, 
 a fountain will convey the idea of blessing. Not only 
 does it give, but it gives to bless, to cool and slake the 
 parched lips of the wanderer, to supply the daily needs 
 of a neighborhood, to send forth streams which will dif- 
 fuse greenness, freshness and life. It is a source whence 
 many may draw the waters of consolation and strength, 
 the source of gladness and holy influences, wherever it 
 reaches. 
 
 But it is not to any one of these characteristics that 
 I desire your attention now, but to the idea suggested 
 by a fountain of the holy life as a life of free, uncon- 
 scious, spontaneous obedience. 
 
 What a delightful unconsciousness there is about a 
 fountain as it plays up from the hidden deep, not spout- 
 ing up in spasmodic jets, but gushing upward calmly, 
 constantly, yet irresistibly, winning its way through, and 
 by all obstructions, flowing forth in wild, untrammelled 
 liberty, and winding onward at his own sweet will, and 
 doing it all as though it could not help it, as though it 
 loved to do so, as though it were its habit, its way, its 
 life to do so. Such, also, ought a holy life to be — a 
 life of natural, instinctive force, outflowing of the purest 
 sympathies, the heavenliest affections, the holiest de- 
 sires, the divinest purposes. Such a life it ought to 
 be; such a life it is in its perfection. 
 
 If the question be asked — what is that life of Chris- 
 tian perfection, after which we are encouraged to strive ? 
 — there are, of course, many answers which might be 
 given; for perfection includes everything that can be 
 said or thought of the highest state attainable to man. 
 It is the culmination of every godlike power, the con- 
 
152 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 summation of every holy hope and endeavor, the coro- 
 nation of every heavenward aspiration and prayer. 
 
 Take any quality of a good life, purity, spirituality, 
 love, carry it up to the highest point of power and 
 glory conceived as possible for it, and you will be led 
 to at least one true aspect of perfection. It is im- 
 possible from the nature of the case to give all of its 
 elements in a single definition. But one statement 
 about it which has at least some practical value is this : 
 Perfection is a state in which holiness is the soul's 
 habit ; in which love is the settled law of the life. 
 
 But, if again the question be put: What is habit? 
 we meet with more than one answer also to this. It 
 is often said that habit is a second nature, a second 
 self; this conveys a vivid practical idea of the strength, 
 authority, tenacity of habit, the hold which it has on a 
 man, the deepness with which it enters into a man ; 
 although it is not a strict philosophical truth — as it 
 conveys the idea, or seems to convey the idea, that 
 there is a first nature, a first self behind, second or 
 underlying it ; which is not the case, for the whole self, 
 the whole nature, is incorporated with the habits of 
 the man, and grows up into them. I would say that a 
 man's habit is a way of using himself acquired by con- 
 stant doing of the same thing. It is the impetus which 
 man's performances acquire by motion in a given di- 
 rection, which carries them on by its own force, the 
 accumulation of power within which makes man inde- 
 pendent in great measure of stimulants, or of pressure 
 from without. That which the momentum acquired 
 by the whirl of a fly-wheel is to the revolution of the 
 wheel, such is habit to the actions of the life. In a 
 holy life, it is the power which is gathered up in the 
 soul by faithful and constant obedience, which helps 
 man to do right without effort, almost without con- 
 
SERMONS. 153 
 
 sciousness, so that all the holy thoughts which spring 
 up within, and all the holy feelings which are born in 
 the heart, and all the holy words which are spoken, 
 and all the deeds which are performed are natural, so 
 that it would be unnatural, painful, to think, speak, 
 feel, or act otherwise. 
 
 This is the condition in which man was created, or 
 rather for which he was designed, and which if he had 
 not fallen, he would soon have reached. We can not 
 say, of course, that man was created in the habit of 
 holiness, because habit is the product of time, but he 
 was so created that if he had followed the law of his 
 being, he would ere long have reached the state of 
 spontaneous perfection, which has just been described. 
 If he had never sinned he would have received the 
 powers of a holy life, with little or no conscious effort 
 All that he had done would have been spontaneously 
 pure. The functions of the spiritual life would have 
 been discharged with as little constraint as those of the 
 natural life. The affections would have beat in har- 
 mony with God, as the physical heart, "like a muffled 
 drum," beats its regular life-march. Love would have 
 been an inspiration. I do not say that there would 
 have been no labor, no effort of any kind. That would 
 have been necessary to develop strength and firmness 
 of character. But there would have been no such con- 
 ception of effort in his obedience, as there is now. 
 There would have been no friction, no clogs within. 
 There would have been the same kind of unconsciousness 
 and spontaneousness as we find in perfect health. A 
 man who is perfectly healthy does not, of course, ab- 
 solutely forget that he has a body. Hunger, thirst, 
 weariness, will remind him, at intervals, of that. His 
 muscles are sometimes strained ; his nerves are occa- 
 sionally excited ; and the blood often rushes in its 
 
154 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 courses like a swelling torrent, and glows in his face 
 with the fire of unwonted energy. But still he is never 
 reminded of his body as the sick man is, a hundred 
 times a day, by irregularities, disturbances, and pains, 
 here and there, in the bodily machinery. He uses his 
 body as a skillful workman handles his tools, as a part 
 of himself. When one is engaged in writing, his mind 
 reaches beyond his finger-tips, down to the very point 
 of the pen in his hand, so that a little hair in the split 
 annoys him as though it touched himself. When the 
 painter is engaged on his picture, his brush and pallet 
 are situated for the time being within the limits of his 
 own consciousness, enveloped in the sensations of his 
 own imagination. 
 
 The violinist, as he holds his instrument in his arm, 
 embraces it as though it were a part of his own being, 
 and the sounds which he draws out with his bow are 
 drawn out of the depths of his own soul. As long as 
 a man's implements do their duty properly, he does 
 not think of them at all, but of his work. So does the 
 man in perfect health use his body. And so also would 
 a perfectly holy soul employ all its powers and apti- 
 tudes and instrumentalities. The life of the soul, the 
 life of Divine Love, would have filled the powers, in- 
 formed them, inspired them, carried on their activities 
 by a heavenly momentum, imparted by the moving im- 
 pact of God's own spirit. 
 
 The chain of influences between God and the mani- 
 festations of holiness would have been perfect and 
 unbroken. The connection between whatsoever is 
 divinely fair and the soul's motives would have been 
 instantaneous, and the connection between motive and 
 action would have been electric. Man would have 
 been an instrument discoursed upon by God himself, 
 and yielding the purest harmonies. 
 
SERMONS. 1 5 5 
 
 Such is the state for which God designed man, and 
 such is the state to which he would restore him. I do 
 not think that the New Holiness will be in every 
 respect precisely like the Old. It will be higher, 
 nobler even than that ; that grace may ' ' much more 
 abound " through it. But they are just alike in this : 
 that in each the love of God will be a spontaneous 
 uprising, a fountain springing up into everlasting 
 life. But you will say that such a state is unattain- 
 able here. To love God spontaneously, to do right 
 instinctively, to find it infinitely easier to serve God 
 faithfully than to be unfaithful, even in the least, that is 
 to be perfect; and perfection is beyond our present 
 reach. Well, if it is, it is none the less our duty to 
 try to be perfect. It is our fault that we are not 
 perfect. It is our duty to search after perfection, and 
 this life is the beginning of the life that is to be per- 
 fect, and if we do not try to be perfect, one thing is 
 sure, we never shall be. But there are two kinds of 
 perfection, absolute and comparative. The latter we 
 are commanded to possess now. Although we may 
 not attain a state in which every virtue is at once a full 
 grown power, and every habit an all-controlling, never- 
 failing instinct, we may reach a state in which habits 
 of holiness will greatly preponderate, and have a most 
 decided ascendancy. We may by constant practice of 
 the virtues, acquire an overmastering tendency toward 
 them and a facility in their exercise. 
 
 The condition of habit, if indeed, we may not say 
 the productive cause, is repetition. Its law is this: 
 that by frequent and persistent iteration, by doing the 
 same thing over and over, the powers both of body 
 and mind acquire a facility in doing it, and an impulse 
 to keep on doing it. The dexterity with which a me- 
 chanic manipulutes his work, with which the composi- 
 
I56 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 tor picks up and puts together the type, with which 
 the writer handles the pen and traces words on paper, 
 the quickness with which the eye in reading seizes on 
 combinations of letters, and groups them into sentences 
 and grasps their meaning, the rapidity with which the 
 musician fingers the keys or strings of his instrument — 
 all this is acquired by use, by long and patient prac- 
 tice. And this is the case not only with fingers, eyes, 
 feet and muscles, but also with the power of mind. 
 
 By practice men acquire a most marvelous facility 
 in exercising the powers of calculation, combination, 
 analysis and construction. The same is true even of 
 the moral powers. There is a dexterity (if I may so 
 say) of the conscience, a quickness in detecting wrong, 
 a rapidity in deciding in matters of duty, which can 
 only be possessed by a faithful cultivation of the moral 
 sensibilities, and of the intellectual judgments and ex- 
 ecutive faculties, which are called into activity. So of 
 faith ; the man who believes and trusts from day to day, 
 finds it much easier to believe and trust. But not only 
 does habit imply a facility in doing anything, but also 
 the impulse to keep on doing it. I need not stop now 
 to illustrate this. All know, by experience, what it is 
 to have gotten into the habit to do this or the other, 
 so that you feel continually inclined to do that which 
 you have been used to do, you feel restlesss, you do 
 not feel right unless you are still doing it, and often 
 you find yourself involuntarily doing it. Men some- 
 times try to apologize for their errors on this principle : 
 "Oh!" they say, "it is so much a habit that you 
 must overlook it this time." That is to say, we have 
 done it so often, that we can not help ourselves now, 
 and, therefore, we are not so much to blame; frequent 
 repetition of the error or wrong, the impulse to do it, 
 has gained an overpowering ascendency over us ! Is that 
 
SERMONS. 157 
 
 a good excuse? Admitting that it may be alleged in 
 extenuation (not in justification, but in extenuation) of 
 some particular action, does it relieve a man of his re- 
 sponsibility for the habit? The same may be said on 
 the other side. You can not fairly detract from the 
 merit of any good deed by saying — Ah ! it is the 
 man's habit. He can not help himself. Why, you 
 could not pay a man a higher compliment than that. 
 A habit of doing right? A habit of speaking kind 
 words and of doing kind deeds ? A habit of telling 
 the truth? A habit of showing justice towards all? 
 All the better for him ! All the more for his credit ! 
 It is just as good as to say that he has done these things 
 so often, so long and so earnestly, that to do them is to 
 be himself, and that not to do them, would not be to be 
 himself. All honor to such a man ! Everybody will say 
 that. And yet, in the next breath, a man will pass by 
 the slave of some evil habit, who has weakly indulged 
 some passion, until it has become a tyrant ; who has 
 done some unmanly, some unworthy deed over and 
 over, until impulse to do it overpowers all resistance, 
 or even takes away the desire to resist ; and everybody 
 now says, "Poor fellow! You must not be too severe 
 on him. He can not break away from that habit." It 
 is sad ! but the worse for him. The greater his guilt. 
 Where did the habit come from ? God did not give it 
 to him. He made it himself. It is the result of a long 
 course of sinning. He forged his own fetters. He sold 
 himself to the tyrant. This being the law of habit, 
 that it is formed by constant iteration of the same deeds, 
 by frequent repetition of the same motives, feelings and 
 actions, it follows that the strength, of any habit is pro- 
 portioned to the frequency and constancy with which it 
 is repeated. Not only is aptitude for doing any thing 
 increased by much practice, not only can we do it with 
 
l$b LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 much greater ease and dispatch, but the tendency, the 
 impulse to do it, is greatly strengthened. On the other 
 hand by negligence, by omission, by irregularity and 
 infrequency in the performance, the habit loses its 
 power ; the aptitude for it is diminished, and the im- 
 pulse toward it is enfeebled. 
 
 One of the great problems of a true life is to bring 
 every good feeling and activity within the sphere of 
 habit, to make all the duties of life, and all the graces 
 of life — habits. We should make a habit of every 
 duty. It should be performed so frequently and con- 
 stantly that it will become easy, and that there will be 
 an ever present desire to do it. Take for example the 
 duty of prayer. We are commanded to "pray with- 
 out ceasing." What is that? You answer, — to be 
 always in the spirit of prayer. . Certainly that is im- 
 plied. We can not pray always, unless we are in the 
 spirit of it. But that is not all. We are to be in the 
 habit of praying, which (I take it) means more than to 
 be in the spirit of it, at least as the words are com- 
 monly understood. To be in the spirit of doing any- 
 thing, is to be ready to do it when opportunity occurs ; 
 to be in the habit of doing it, is to be doing it, and to 
 make opportunities if they do not exist. I think that 
 here is a little loophole through which some try to 
 creep. They know that prayer as a formal act can not 
 be all the time performed, and so they content them- 
 selves with being, as they hope, in the spirit of prayer 
 always, namely, in a certain frame of mind in which, if 
 it is quite convenient otherwise, they will be ready to 
 pray. Now that is not being quite up to the mark. 
 Habit makes opportunity. Habit begets an impulse 
 which will make itself felt, which will assert its power 
 and compel a man to yield to it. He who is in the 
 habit of praying, or of performing any other duty, will 
 
 I 
 
SERMONS. 159 
 
 feel a continually recurring impulse, constraining him 
 to do it with a heavenly compulsion, so that he can 
 not be at rest, without engaging in it. I have instanced 
 prayer, but the same is true of praise. We should be 
 in the habit of praising God, just as the birds are in 
 the habit of singing all the day long. "Be not 
 drunk with wine, wherein is excess, but be ye filled 
 with the spirit; [Be always full of a joyous holy ex- 
 citement; and how shall that excitement show itself?] 
 Speaking to (among) yourselves in psalms and hymns 
 and spiritual songs, making melody in your heart to 
 God." " Be in the habit of meditating on holy things." 
 * ' Blessed is the man whose delight is in the law of the 
 Lord, and in his law doth he meditate day and night." 
 4 ' Ah ! how love I thy law, it is my meditation all the 
 day." Cultivate the habit of thinking on heavenly 
 themes, magnetize your mind with them until it points 
 continually toward God, like the needle toward the 
 pole. Cultivate the habit of Christian activity. ' l Be 
 always abounding in the work of the Lord." " As we 
 have opportunity, let us do good unto all." 
 
 But how, you say, "can so many habits be sus- 
 tained?" How can a man be in the habit of doing 
 so many things? My only answer is: Try it! You 
 will never believe how many things can be done at 
 once, until you try. The musician, who dashes his 
 fingers up and down his instrument, producing different 
 melodies and intricate harmonies, and at the same time 
 holds an intelligent conversation with a friend, and sees 
 all that is going on about him, once had to bend to- 
 gether all his energies to produce a simple air without 
 any accompaniment. What is the secret of the differ- 
 ence between his first and present efforts ? Habit. 
 He has learned the habit of seeing and of thinking and 
 of executing a great many things in one instant of 
 
160 LLEWEYLN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 time. And do you not suppose that we can learn to 
 crowd together a great many good and holy habits into 
 one and the same moment ? Moreover : Every grace 
 of the Christian life should become a habit. It should 
 be our habit to be grateful, as it is the habit of the 
 rose to be fragrant. The act of faith should become 
 the habit of faithfulness. The act of hope should be- 
 come the habit of waiting. The act of love should 
 become the habit of love: for love is its own habit, as 
 it is its own law, its own reward. 
 
 Let it be observed: that there is an essential and 
 radical difference between habit and formality. Every 
 duty, every grace, has two elements : the form and the 
 spirit, the soul and the body. Formalism is the repe- 
 tition of the external form. Habit is the repetition of 
 the whole duty, or of the whole grace, and especially 
 of the spirit of each. A man, let us suppose, offers a 
 particular prayer to God, a genuine prayer, a true, 
 fervent offering of the soul. He takes so much delight 
 in the duty that he recurs to it again. For a few 
 times he experiences the like pleasure in it. But his 
 heart gradually becomes cold; his enjoyment ceases; 
 and, although, from some superstitious notion, or 
 Pharisaical vanity, he repeats, it may be, the same peti- 
 tions, that is all ; there is nothing but the phrases, the 
 form. 
 
 Another reproduces not only the form, but the 
 spirit ; he experiences the same wants, the same fervor, 
 the same desires, the same delight in the exercise, as 
 when he first engaged in it. In the one case prayer is 
 a formality; in the other a habit. 
 
 There are men whose present is but the echo of a 
 dead past, whose days are lifeless walls, that but take 
 up and roll on the voices of other and better days. 
 Once those voices meant something; they came from 
 
SERMONS. l6l 
 
 a living heart; but that heart is now stagnant and 
 buried, and the voices are without a soul. The man of 
 dead formalities, compared with the man of living 
 habits, is like one who plays on the keys of an organ 
 when there is no wind in the pipes, compared with one 
 who plays while the living breath rushes through the 
 tubes, and who, as he touches every key, unlocks some 
 sweet mystery of sound. Both go through the same 
 forms, the same motions, both finger alike, and touch 
 the same keys, but in the one case the result is clatter- 
 ing of ivory, in the other music. I have seen it stated 
 that the great pianist, Liszt, when riding or traveling, 
 has a dumb key-board in his carriage on which he 
 practices his fingers, that they may be always ready to 
 make a perfect response to every demand that may be 
 made on them. Now there is the same difference be- 
 tween the man of mere forms, and the man of intelli- 
 gent and conscientious habits, as there is between 
 Liszt going through the forms of piano playing on 
 dumb pieces, to keep his fingers nimble and vigorous, 
 and Liszt over a deep-toned, perfectly attuned instru- 
 ment, inspired by his theme, flashing forth inspiration 
 in every touch, sweeping the key-board with a hand 
 more potent than the wand of a magician, and making 
 the air a temple of song. Formalism plays the keys, 
 but they are dumb ! They give no response. They do 
 not strike the chords where harmony resides. Habit 
 touches them and the air is vocal with joy. The 
 strings of the Universal Harp are struck, and ring with 
 divinest tones. Every touch is a living soul, a power 
 that creates vibrations not only on earth, but in heaven, 
 yea, in the heart of God himself. 
 
 Hence, also, we see why formalism becomes tedious, 
 monotonous, dead. It brings down no response, no 
 utterance of Divine enlightenment or joy. There is 
 
1 62 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 no living connection between it and the sources of pure 
 and elevated delight. It becomes wearisome. Who 
 would not tire of playing forever on dumb keys? It 
 receives no reward, nothing to minister nourishment or 
 strength or joy. But a holy habit perpetually renews 
 itself. It is a pleasing melody, a theme ever the same, 
 yet ever varying, of which the soul never tires. It 
 keeps up a living communication between the soul and 
 the other world. It causes new blessings daily to 
 descend upon the life, that bring into the heart the 
 sweetness of heaven. But these habits are to be 
 formed. They are not born with us into the world. 
 God does not give them to us. We must make them 
 for ourselves. We have lost that power of spontane- 
 ous obedience which our nature had at the beginning. 
 We can recover it only by forming a new habit of 
 obedience, only by applying ourselves with such de- 
 light to the performance of every duty, that our whole 
 nature will be transformed into a new manhood, another 
 and a better self. Everything depends upon the way 
 in which they are formed. Their strength, their power 
 over us, will be in proportion to the constancy with 
 which we apply ourselves to their formation. Hence 
 it is that Christ makes so much of faithfulness. Re- 
 ligion is not to be carried on by fits and starts. It is 
 not a volcano, which sends forth eruptions, at uncertain 
 intervals, and sleeps in the meanwhile. It is a fount- 
 ain pouring itself forth steadily and continually. The 
 formation of good habits is the work of time. This 
 would have been the case even with Adam, if he had 
 never sinned. How much more with us, who have so 
 many old habits to be overcome, as well as new habits 
 to be formed ? Do not then on the one hand be too 
 hasty, and flatter yourself that your habits are com- 
 pletely formed, when they are only just begun. On 
 
SERMONS. I63 
 
 the other hand, do not be discouraged at finding their 
 growth to be so slow. Let patience have her perfect 
 work. And good habits once formed must be main- 
 tained. The same process which formed them is 
 necessary to preserve them. Remember that good 
 habits are much more easily lost than acquired. A 
 day of negligence undoes the work of a month of ap- 
 plication. And, finally, although we have to form our 
 own habits, let us remember that Christ alone can give 
 the spirit by which they are to be formed. "The 
 water that I shall give him, shall be in him a well of 
 water, springing up into everlasting life." 
 
VII. 
 
 FORGETTING THE THINGS WHICH ARE BEHIND. 
 
 Philippians 3 : 13. 
 
 This is a part of Paul's experience. I have cited it 
 as a rule of action for us. It is not always that one 
 man's experience can be safely looked to by others as 
 a model for imitation, but the disclosures which Paul 
 makes of his inner life, present an ideal after w r hich 
 others may strive. This is especially true of the glow- 
 ing and elevated self-revelations which he gives us in 
 this chapter. Nothing nobler, nothing sublimer, can 
 be found in the history of any human soul. No won- 
 der that impelled by such motives, regulated by such 
 principles and directed toward such ends, his life was a 
 success. Life is sometimes called an art. We speak 
 of the art of living. By this it is not meant that life 
 is to be opposed to nature. True art is always in per- 
 fect harmony with nature. It is not meant that it is 
 in any respect false ; for perfect art is truth. It is not 
 meant that it is made up of shifts and expedients, for 
 a true life like true art has unity, and all the parts are 
 necessary to the whole. But it is meant that success 
 in life depends on certain conditions and laws, which 
 can not be set aside or changed. It is only by com- 
 plying with those conditions, and obeying those laws 
 that we can secure the proper results of life. We have 
 (164) 
 
SERMONS. 165 
 
 several of these conditions grouped together in the pas- 
 sage which has already been quoted, in which Paul de- 
 scribes his experience. One of these he calls " For- 
 getting the things which are behind." Another, he 
 immediately afterward calls, "Reaching forth unto those 
 things which are before." The former defines his treat- 
 ment of the past, the latter of the future. Plow to 
 deal with one and the other of these two great factors 
 of life is a question of no small practical moment. 
 Standing as we do between the two, or rather moving 
 as we are continually from one to the other, outgrow- 
 ing the one and growing up unto the other, leaving the 
 one behind us, and yet followed by it, reaching out 
 toward the other and yet finding it ever before us, the 
 question is an important one : How shall we make the 
 most of either? Plow shall we make the best use of 
 the things which are behind us, of the facts and expe- 
 riences, the conditions which have gone from us; and 
 how shall we make the best use of the things which 
 are before us, of the states, the experiences, the acqui- 
 sitions, which are not yet ours ? 
 
 Sometimes in a journey we come to a turning point 
 from which we see at a glance all the way along which 
 we have come, or all the way along which we are to 
 go. So there are turning points in life which bring be- 
 fore us now the entire Past, now the far-stretching Fu- 
 ture. Sometimes we stand as on the top of Pisgah, 
 and see the Promised Land spreading before us in all 
 its glorious extent, a land overflowing with milk and 
 honey. Again, we are like an Alpine traveler, who 
 reaches some lofty summit whence he can look back 
 and see down below him in the distance the village 
 whence he began his journey, the green, smiling mead- 
 ows which skirted its first stages, the rising slopes 
 which formed the mountain's base, the steeper declivities 
 
1 66 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 which next awaited him, the narrow defiles through which 
 he threaded his way, the rugged path up which he toiled, 
 and the almost pathless precipices which he must scale 
 to reach the summit. On this last Sabbath of the Old 
 Year, we naturally, inevitably, look back. The Past rises 
 before us and invites us to commune with it. If we are 
 ever in the habit of reflecting, we shall ask ourselves 
 to-day, What have we been? What have we done? 
 What have we passed through? What have we 
 gained ? What lost ? What have we missed ? What 
 escaped ? Wherein have we succeeded ? Wherein 
 failed? What if this or that had been otherwise? 
 Such reflections are unavoidable, but how to profit 
 by them ? For it is not always those most given to 
 reverie that are the wisest. It is not enough to muse 
 over that which has been, or which may be, to brood 
 over the lost, to dream about the impossible, to take 
 up the fragments of life and to piece them together 
 this way and that way ; it is not enough even to order 
 back the phantoms of days and months and years, to 
 question them, and bid them tell over their tales of 
 sorrow, of labor, of tedium, of excitement, of joy. 
 Most of us, doubtless, do this at times, but what we 
 need is to gaze backward, so that our forward vision 
 will be clearer, to brood over the Past in such a way 
 that in the very act of brooding the soul may replume 
 her wings for a loftier flight, to win from the ghosts of 
 past years the secrets which we have failed to learn of 
 the years themselves ; this is what we need. For this 
 Past which invites us to hold converse with itself; 
 whose whispers mingle even now with the moan of 
 the dying year, what is it, in a word ? Scan it closely — 
 is it not a mirror in which you see yourself? Yes, that 
 is what it is. It is self. A dead self it may be, which 
 you had sought to bury, which you had hoped never 
 
SERMONS. 167 
 
 more to see. Is it so ? Ah ! vain hope ! It confronts 
 you once more ! You must look in it. You must hear 
 it. A forgotten self perhaps : you recognize it now 
 that you see it. Yes! you were that once — but you 
 are so different now, you had well nigh forgotten that 
 self. A child self, perhaps : Ah, well ! is the child 
 the father of the man ? And was that self the father 
 of what you now are ? It must be so, and yet it seems 
 strange even to you. More likely still, you see a self 
 neither dead nor forgotten, but one that is fading every 
 day into greater obscurity. You have not become 
 transformed into something else yet, and you hope you 
 may never become an entire stranger to that which you 
 once were : you say — 
 
 u And I could wish my days to be 
 Bound each to each by natural piety." 
 
 There is a growing difference between you and the 
 self of other days, and yet you are changing. It may 
 be the Past which visits you is a well known familiar 
 self, which has come to you again and again, so that 
 you recognize it at once as an old friend. So few have 
 been the changes of your life, so even has been the 
 tenor of your way, that at the close of each year it is 
 the same Past which faces you, the same self which 
 reflects itself on you. And so, you see, the difficulties 
 which meet us in dealing with the problem of the Past 
 are precisely those which meet us in dealing with the 
 problem of self. The Past has become a part of our- 
 selves, at least, in so far as it is at all available to us in 
 the Present. The sights which we have beheld, the in- 
 fluences which we have felt, the experiences through 
 which we have passed, have indelibly stamped them- 
 selves on our souls, have incorporated themselves with 
 our very being. When we ask: How shall we best 
 profit by the Past ? what we want to know is, how 
 
1 68 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 shall we learn wisdom from our former self? How 
 shall we make that which we have been, help us in be- 
 coming that which we ought to be? A problem, this, 
 which is easy for none, but which presents to some the 
 most serious difficulties. The Past is much more pro- 
 ductive of results to some than to others. The Pauline 
 rule of the text, however, is a simple one which all 
 can use. "Forgetting the things which are behind." 
 Of course this does not mean literal forgetfulness, for 
 we can not profit much by that which we have abso- 
 lutely forgotten. Besides entire forgetfulness is impos- 
 sible. Except in the imagination of poets there is no 
 Lethe, no river whose waters can bestow the gift of 
 oblivion. Or, if there were such a river, would you 
 drink of it ? Would you forget everything ? Granted 
 that there are some things which you might wish buried 
 beyond the possibility of resurrection, are there not^ 
 other things which you would desire yet more earnestly 
 to retain ? Alas for the man who for the sake of blot- 
 ting out a part of his past, would make a blank of the 
 whole ! But, you may ask, are there not some things 
 which we may try to forget ? Of course there are many 
 things which are sure to be forgotten, not indeed, ab- 
 solutely and forever, but still, practically and for a 
 time. It may be questioned whether any impression 
 whatever, made at any time on the mind, is ever wholly 
 effaced. In the light of Eternity thousands upon thou- 
 sands of lines, which now seem to have disappeared, 
 will reappear, clear and distinct as when they were first 
 engraved, and what a page will be that of memory, read 
 in that light ! Now, however, very much that is written 
 on that page seems to fade out after a time, or to be_ 
 come very dim The proportion of what is remembered 
 to what is for the time forgotten is in the case of most 
 persons, small. After all, this seems to be a necessary 
 
SERMONS. 169 
 
 and wise provision in our present education. It may 
 be doubted whether the growth of the mind could be 
 sufficiently healthy if it retained everything indiscrimi- 
 nately. Yes, it is a blessed law of life's discipline that 
 for the present we forget so much more than we re- 
 member. Now, although the faculty of memory is not 
 subject wholly to our own control, it is unquestionable 
 that we may learn to remember or to forget, in great 
 part at least, according to our desire. There are things 
 which we may in time forget by exercising certain pre- 
 cautions, and some things which we should certainly 
 make an effort to forget. It were well if we could blot 
 out of our memories the black impressions made by 
 evil associations and the corrupting influences in the 
 past. Shall we go further, and say that we are to make 
 special efforts to forget all our personal failures, our 
 sins, our sorrows? I think not. To do so is neither 
 courageous nor wise. 
 
 It is cowardice to shut our eyes to the sin of life, 
 instead of looking it steadily in the face. It is weak- 
 ness to cover up failures, and then to dream that all is 
 well. Better than to forget our errors and our sins, is 
 to confess them, to repent of them, and to conquer 
 them. Better than to flee away from the memories of 
 our griefs, is to be humbled and chastened by them. 
 Shall we say then, that by forgetting the things which 
 are behind, we are to understand letting the past alone ; 
 giving ourselves no concern about it, one way or the 
 other ; making no special effort either to drive it away 
 from us, or to bring it up before us? No! that can not 
 be the meaning, for it is undoubtedly our duty at times 
 to summon the past before us, to interrogate it, to 
 think intently, and even intensely, upon our former 
 selves, to call to remembrance what we have been even 
 in error, unworthiness, guilt, that we may become 
 
I70 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 properly humble, grateful and strong. Take the case 
 of Paul again. These words, as we have seen, are a 
 part of his experience. He is speaking for himself: 
 "This one thing I do, forgetting the things which are 
 behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are 
 before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the 
 high calling of God in Christ Jesus." But we know 
 that Paul, the Apostle, never forgot Saul, the Perse- 
 cutor. In this very connection he contrasts his past 
 life with the present, his former motives and aims with 
 those which now governed him ; and in all his writings 
 and discourses, we find him making continual allusions 
 to himself as he was, no less than to himself as he is. 
 And he shrinks from nothing. He has no conceal- 
 ments, no evasions, no palliations to make. There was 
 no secret corner in his heart which he was afraid to 
 enter, no skeleton closet, the door of which he dared 
 not open. Although he calls himself the chief of sin- 
 ners, we never find him expressing the wish that any 
 part of his life might be cancelled. He would have 
 nothing forgotten, lest the magnitude of God's grace 
 shown in his salvation might seem to be diminished. 
 And most assuredly Paul could not have desired the 
 memory of past mercies, of former joys, of ecstatic 
 hours of Divine Communion to be extinguished. The 
 glory and the shame, the love and the guilt, the smiles 
 and the tears, were too closely woven in the canvas of 
 memory, to be separated, so that either could be taken 
 out and buried in oblivion. Wherein then did Paul 
 forget the things which were behind ? In this : that 
 he did not rest in them. He did not stop with them. 
 He did not cleave to them. He did not content him- 
 self with them. The sources of his inspiration did not 
 lie in them. They were not the supreme motives, the 
 paramount forces of his character. His ideal was be- 
 
 
SERMONS. 171 
 
 fore him, not behind him. It was a self to be, not a 
 self that had been. His life was not hid in the past, 
 it was hid with Christ in God: — "That I may win 
 Christ," "that I may be found in him," " that I may 
 know him and the power of his resurrection," "that I 
 may attain unto the resurrection of the dead," "that 
 I may apprehend that for which also I am apprehended 
 of Christ Jesus." These were the grand ends which 
 Paul placed before himself. They were to result in the 
 creation of a truer and nobler self than aught he had 
 ever been as yet. Paul was no troglodyte living in a 
 cave of the Past; he v/as ever coming forth into a 
 larger life, into a broader and clearer light. He was 
 ever growing up into a fuller and riper manhood. 
 Compare his hold upon the past with the hold which 
 he had on the future. He would have said: " I cast 
 it away from me that I may secure that glorious im- 
 mortality, this heaven, this Christ, on which I have 
 laid hold, and which must be mine, and which will be 
 mine forever." 
 
 Compare his realization of things which were behind 
 with his realization of the things which were before, 
 of the manifestation of God's glory, and the experi- 
 ences of God's love hereafter to be enjoyed. He would 
 say, ' ' I have forgotten the former as one forgets the 
 morning star in the glory of the risen sun." He was 
 the last of all men to depreciate the goodness which 
 had crowned his life with glory, and his labors with 
 success, and yet as compared with the crown which he 
 expected to receive at the last, the royalty with which 
 God would one day clothe him, he would say, "My 
 life hitherto has been a void ; my true birth is yet to 
 come ; my real life is yet to be lived ; my perfect 
 humanity is yet to be put on. As the life of the seed 
 while it sleeps in the frozen clod is to the life it will 
 
172 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 live when spring and summer with influences gathered 
 together from earth, and sea, and sky, are quickening 
 and energizing its growth, so is the life which lies 
 behind me to the life which rises before me. My life 
 here is a sleep, a dream, a frozen torpid winter as com- 
 pared with that waking brightness, that morning vigor, 
 that summer glory and strength which await me in the 
 life beyond. I account the things to which I have as 
 yet attained as of little or no value, I leave them there 
 in the Past ; they have answered their purpose, they 
 have helped me so far, but they were after all mere 
 preparations for something better, stepping stones to 
 something higher. God ministers new aids to me now 
 and he promises a glory to be revealed, far transcend- 
 ing the highest imagination of the soul in its present 
 sphere. Then when that which is perfect is come, that 
 which is in part shall be done away." 
 
 Now and then we meet with a man who says : ' ' My 
 life has been a failure, I began it with glowing hopes, 
 and as fair prospects as most of success. For a time 
 all went well ; prosperity, comfort, peace flowed in upon 
 me in abundant measure, and out of the enjoyments of 
 the past I had begun to build a mansion of hope for 
 the future. But alas ! its foundations have been swept 
 away; its ruins have crushed my heart. In vain have 
 I tried to rebuild it. In vain have I tried to even build 
 anything humbler out of these broken and disordered 
 fragments. My strength is gone. Let them lie. Let 
 me spend the remainder of my days among them, 
 looking at the moss gathering slowly on the moulder- 
 ing heap, dreaming sadly of what might have been, 
 but what never more will be." Friend! God never 
 made man to live in a ruin, least of all in the ruin of 
 himself. The Hand of Love sometimes throws down 
 our airy mansions, sometimes tears down the summer 
 
SERMONS. 173 
 
 arbor of roses we had built for our enjoyment, but we 
 may be sure that it is always well that this should be 
 done. What you call a ruin was intended, you may be 
 sure, to save you from ruin ; what seems to you fail- 
 ure, was designed, you may be sure, to avert a more 
 disastrous failure. You may never know the danger 
 which lurked within or under the walls which that 
 storm shook down. You may never know the poison- 
 ous serpent brood that was hatching in that bower of 
 bliss in which your heart so delighted, and which the 
 tempest stripped and scattered. Come out thence and 
 take courage. Leave those crumbling walls behind you 
 and pursue your journey. Your heart is crushed? There 
 is a physician who can heal it. " The Lord healeth the 
 broken in heart and bindeth up their wounds." Your 
 strength is gone? " He giveth power to the faint, and 
 to them that have no might he increaseth strength." 
 Your life is a failure? ''All things work together for 
 good to them that fear God." This plan and that plan 
 may fail ; this hope and the other may disappoint you'; 
 let them go ! But your life is not a failure as long as 
 there is a possibility of saying of God " He is mine." 
 
 Not seldom we meet those who rejoice in a past self 
 — better, more exalted, more successful, than they now 
 are. They are like one who has seen better days, who 
 still occupies the old mansion where he once enjoyed 
 his greatness and his wealth, although one by one the 
 ornaments and furniture have disappeared or faded, and 
 little remains but the bare walls. Yet there he sits and 
 dreams of days when those walls gleamed with the 
 splendors of art, and resounded with the echoes of song, 
 and when through those halls streamed stately proces- 
 sions of beauty and joy. So there are those who sur- 
 round themselves with the faded remnants of a glory 
 that is departed. They recall the time when their souls 
 
1/4 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 were filled with elevated thoughts, with noble aspira- 
 tions, with high purposes, and tuneful joys. Christians 
 there are, who revert continually to a period in their 
 lives when their hearts were like harps, breathed on 
 from morning till evening by the airs of heaven, when 
 like a lark, the soul daily winged her ecstatic flights to 
 the gates of the Celestial City and beheld visions of the 
 glory which cannot be uttered, when the heart sur- 
 charged with gladness, found frequent and sweet relief 
 in tears, when the exercises of religion were performed 
 with rapturous joy. It is so no longer, but they take 
 comfort in the thought that it was so once. Indeed it 
 seems to be almost enough in their estimation that once 
 they had such glorious experiences, such high resolves 
 and such spiritual prosperity. They say: that is my 
 true self; that is my real self; not this which you see 
 now. They seek to forestall any criticism of what they 
 are now, by pointing us to what they long ago were. 
 Although they have fallen below that old self, they are 
 always presenting it as the true image of themselves. 
 If they are reminded of their present imperfections they 
 look to their past excellencies, and they are satisfied. 
 If the deficiencies of the life they now lead are pre- 
 sented to them, they point us to the position which 
 they occupied of old, as much as to say "If you wish 
 to judge us take us at our best, not our poorest!" 
 When in reality, in judging others, that which they 
 were is of no special importance except as an aid in 
 determining that which they are ; and the fact that one 
 has been better than he is now only adds to his shame, 
 that instead of being better, he is not so good as he was. 
 The case would be a trifle better if they took that past 
 ideal, that better self which has been, and set it up as a 
 standard, striving once more to reach that point, It 
 would be indeed but a poor ideal ; but it would be better 
 
SERMONS. 175 
 
 than nothing, it would be better than remaining satisfied 
 where they are. It is not trying to get very high, to be 
 sure, to be trying to get up where one has been before, 
 but even that were better than lying down in indolence, 
 and saying: "I was yonder once!" But now because 
 these persons have once attained a certain altitude it 
 seems to be a matter of indifference to them afterward 
 how far below it they fall. Brethren ! if a man's life 
 were what it ought to be there would be no such thing 
 in it as a fall. There would be no stepping down from 
 a higher to a lower seat. Whatever may be the ex- 
 ternal changes and depressions of a good man's life, his 
 inner life, his true life, is one of constant elevation. It 
 is ever on the ascendant. George Washington was a 
 greater man and a better man the first day of his re- 
 tirement from the Presidency, than the day he was 
 inaugurated. The man who has not yet learned how 
 to make every step an upward step has not yet learned 
 how to live. How to become holier both by prosperity 
 and by adversity, how to be made stronger both by 
 labor and by rest, more patient both by gratification 
 and by disappointment, more resigned both through 
 losses and through gains, how to be made more heav- 
 enly minded both by business and by devotion, calmer 
 both through excitement and through rest, wiser both 
 by error and by truth, better acquainted with self both 
 in solitude and in a crowd, more Christlike both by 
 trial and by joy, how to make each day, each week, 
 each month, each year, a stepping stone to the next — 
 this is what we need to know, and this is what the 
 love of Christ alone can teach us, even as it taught 
 Paul. 
 
 Whatever then may be the self, which confronts us, 
 as we face the past year, it is one which we are to 
 leave behind and go beyond. Whatever the year has 
 
1/6 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 brought us which we can carry along, which we can 
 build up into the better self of another year, if it be 
 God's will that we should enjoy another year, let us 
 thank God for it and take it with us. Those precious 
 tokens of a Father's love, those sweet assurances of a 
 Saviour's sympathy, those delightful witnesses of the 
 Spirit's friendship, those bright foregleams of immor- 
 tality, those delicious foretastes of heaven, those les- 
 sons of human weakness and Divine strength, of the 
 all-sufficiency of God's grace, of the certainty of our 
 Father's promises, of the security of the Christian's 
 hope, of the blessedness of faith and love, these lessons, 
 learned by chastisement, by suffering, by trial, by en- 
 durance, by patience, by trust, by joyful labor, let 
 us treasure them up for future use, for future growth. 
 Has the year brought you much of suffering? Carry 
 away from it much humility. Has it brought you 
 many trials ? Let it leave you so much purer. Has it 
 taken away much in which you rejoiced? Let it leave 
 you richer in love. Flas it brought you disappoint- 
 ments? Let it leave you richer in faith. Has it 
 brought you joys and crowns of your labor? Let it 
 leave you more full of zeal and energy in the service 
 of your Master. Was there much in it which you 
 could not and can not yet understand? Leave that 
 with God. Was there much in it which it grieves you 
 to think of? Lay that also at the feet of Jesus. Alas, 
 for those errors, and follies, and sins! Would that 
 they were not there ! But in the future lies the great 
 bulk of your life. God be praised, the Past is barely 
 the beginning. Oh, for help to make the Future purer 
 than the Past, to make each year whiter, sweeter, di- 
 viner, than that which went before it. 
 
VIII. 
 
 THE DISCIPLES' AMBITION. 
 
 Matthew 20 : 17-28. "And Jesus going up to Jerusalem took the twelve disciples 
 apart en the way, and said unto them, 
 
 Behold we go up to Jerusalem, and the son of man shall be betrayed unto the 
 chief priests and unto the scribes and they shall condemn him to death, 
 
 And shall deliver him to the Gentiles to mock, and to scourge, and to crucify him : 
 and the third day he shall rise again. 
 
 Then came to him the mother of Zebedee's children with her sons, worshipping 
 him, and desiring a certain thing of him. 
 
 And he said unto her, What wilt thou ? She saith unto him, Grant that these my 
 two sons may sit, the one on thy right hand, and the other on the left, in thy king- 
 dom. 
 
 But Jesus answered and said, Ye know not what ye ask. Are ye able to drink of 
 the cup that I shall drink of, and to be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized 
 with ? They say unto him, We are able. 
 
 And he saith unto them, Ye shall drink indeed of my cup, and be baptized with 
 the baptism that I am baptized with ; but to sit on my right hand and on my left is 
 not mine to give, but it shall be given to them for whom it is prepared of my Father. 
 
 And when the ten heard it, they were moved with indignation against the two 
 brethren. 
 
 _ But Jesus called them unto him, and said, ye know that the princes of the Gen- 
 tiles exercise dominion over them, and they that are great exercise authority upon 
 them. 
 
 But it shall not be so among you ; but whosoever will be great among you, let 
 him be your minister ; 
 
 And whosoever will be chief among you, let him be your servant ; 
 
 Even as the son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister and to 
 give his life a ransom for many." 
 
 (< And Jesus going up to Jerusalem." How simply 
 the fact is told, and yet it is one of no ordinary signifi- 
 cance. Not that there is anything peculiar in his going 
 to Jerusalem ; for one of the great feasts of the nation 
 is approaching, and Jerusalem is now the centre 
 towards which thousands of Jews in Palestine, and out 
 of it, are drawing. 
 
 Neither is this the first time that Jesus and his disci- 
 ples have formed a part of that mighty throng v/hich 
 is wont to stream annually to the National Metropolis 
 to celebrate the Passover. And yet of all high feasts 
 
 (i77) 
 
173 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 ever held since the first memorable Passover in Egypt, 
 never was one like that to which Jesus is now going. 
 Of all the companies on their way to it, not one of such 
 interest to us as this little company of which it is said: 
 "And Jesus going up to Jerusalem took the twelve 
 disciples apart on the way, and said unto them : Be- 
 hold, we go up to Jerusalem." Let us now seek to 
 enter as much as we may into the spirit of the scene 
 described in the text ; and whereas no circumstance can 
 be understood alone, apart from its relations, it will be 
 necessary for us to study this scene in connection with 
 those antecedent circumstances of which it is the his- 
 torical off-shoot, and to this end let me remind you of 
 a few facts respecting these men, with which you are 
 already familiar. 
 
 Let us remember in the first place that they were Jews, 
 and as such shared in the national views respecting the 
 Messiah as a temporal king. They were not, however, 
 ordinary Jews. They were deep, earnest, spiritual men, 
 Israelites indeed, in whom was no guile. As such they 
 believed that the Messiah was to be something more 
 than a mere secular prince, that his kingdom was to be 
 a kingdom of righteousness and truth. Moreover they 
 had Joand the Messiah, and at his call they had left all 
 and followed him, a fact which it will be well for us to 
 bear in mind, as proving that they were not actuated 
 by mere selfishness in following Christ. Again they 
 had the right to regard themselves as the especial 
 friends and followers of the Messiah. Nations like 
 individuals have their ideals and hopes, and some of 
 these have been very remarkable ; but of all national 
 ideas ever formed, of all national hopes ever cher- 
 ished, the Jewish belief in a Messiah is beyond 
 question the most remarkable. Whether we consider 
 the character of the ideal itself, or the poetic beauty 
 
SERMONS. 179 
 
 and prophetic grandeur thrown around it, or the tenacity 
 with which the nation clung to it through centuries of 
 frequent and overwhelming changes, it stands unique in 
 the history of the world. At length the nation is agi- 
 tated with the hope that the long wished for time has 
 come, and that the long expected Messiah is about to 
 appear. Old prophecies are looked at and seem to 
 grow luminous, like the magic talismans of fable, which 
 blazed with a strange light when aught great was about 
 to happen. Presentiments and rumors are ripe. To 
 an aged man at Jerusalem it is revealed that he shall 
 not see death before he has seen the Lord, his Christ. 
 A voice is heard in the wilderness: "Repent ye, for 
 the kingdom of heaven is at hand." Jerusalem and all 
 Judea go out to him ; Priests and Scribes are sent from 
 Jerusalem to ask him, "Who art thou?" He know- 
 ing whom they had come to seek, answers, "I am not 
 the Christ." 
 
 Ere long certain Galilean fishermen are heard saying 
 the one to the other: "We have found the Christ." 
 We have found him of whom Moses in the law and 
 the prophets did write. Joyful discovery ! No wonder 
 that they leave all and follow him. And now for three 
 years have they followed him: — years of poverty, ex- 
 posure, and contumely. Yet, still, they cling to that 
 homeless wanderer. Still their faith in him is unshaken, 
 nay, is stronger now than ever. It is our fashion some- 
 times to depreciate the spirituality of the simple-hearted 
 men during this time. We, with the light of Nineteen 
 Centuries reflected on those three years — we, with the 
 Commentary of Inspiration, and with the Consciousness 
 of the entire Christian Church, on the facts and say- 
 ings which transpired therein, shake our own wise 
 heads at the lowness and grossness of those men's con- 
 ceptions of those facts and sayings. We, living in an 
 
l8o LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 age whose spiritualities are only refined forms of mate- 
 rialism, whose truth is a part of its stock-in-trade, and 
 whose religion is a part of its stock-jobbing — we 
 smile pitifully when we think or speak of v/hat we call 
 the carnal, grovelling views of these Jewish fishermen, 
 who had forsaken all they had on earth, to cling to the 
 great desire of their Nation, coming to them in the person 
 of a carpenter's son. It will be time enough, however, 
 for us to scorn, or even to pity these men when we 
 exhibit the same unworldliness, the same self-denial, 
 the same faith in an unseen ideal, and the same self- 
 sacrifice in behalf of it. True, they were Jews ; true, 
 they shared the national views of the Messiah, 
 They anticipated a visible King on a visible throne, 
 who should, in their own words, ' ' restore again the 
 Kingdom to Israel." But even the common Jew knew 
 that this was not all. Again and again he had read in 
 the Book of the Law, or heard in the Synagogue, that 
 the coming of the Messiah should be like rain upon 
 the mown grass, as showers that water the earth ; that 
 truth should spring out of the earth, and righteousness 
 look down from heaven ; and that the earth should be 
 full of the knowledge of the Lord, as waters cover the 
 sea. Even in the ordinary Jewish conception, there- 
 fore, the visible sceptre which the Messiah was to 
 wield, was the emblem of a spiritual authority over 
 the hearts of men. But these disciples of Jesus were 
 not ordinary Jews. They belonged to that deep, earn- 
 est, spiritual order, to be found among every people, 
 who, without rank, influence, or learning, it may be, 
 yet always live in full view of the realities and glories 
 of the spiritual world, who watch with longing eye the 
 morning star and the day spring from on high, and 
 listen with reverential ear to the Divine Message, 
 whether spoken by the lips of mitred priests, or by 
 
SERMONS. l8l 
 
 the voice of one crying in the wilderness. Accord- 
 ingly we find that some of the men had been drawn 
 by a powerful attraction to the stern, earnest, and 
 spiritual Baptist Prophet of Judea, and had attached 
 themselves to him as disciples ; and when on a certain 
 day, One came by of whom their Master said: "Be- 
 hold the Lamb of God ! " they at once followed the 
 stranger. Of another, Jesus said, when he first saw 
 him: " Behold an Israelite, indeed, in whom is no 
 guile." (And there is certainly enough in the sincere, 
 trustful unselfishness with which they abandoned every- 
 thing at the call of the Divine Man of Nazareth, to 
 dispose at once of this charge of want of spirituality, 
 which is so superficially and flippantly brought against 
 them.) Furthermore, they had now for no small length 
 of time enjoyed the company and teachings of their 
 Master. Some of them had even attained views of the 
 truth, concerning which he had said that ' ' flesh and 
 blood had not revealed those things, but his Father in 
 heaven." Nay, verily! imperfect, wavering, and con- 
 fused, as their views certainly were, material, gross and 
 selfish they certainly could not have been. It is abso- 
 lutely necessary that we should judge these men aright 
 before we can understand their feelings and conduct, 
 and the sublime wisdom and tenderness exhibited by 
 Christ on the occasion which we are now about to 
 consider. And now as they are going up to Jerusalem, 
 let us seek to discover their feelings, and put ourselves 
 as much as we may in sympathy with them; for without 
 some sympathy, no man can ever understand or appre- 
 ciate another. Remembering, then, that they were 
 Jews, let us first try to realize what is implied in that 
 fact, to-wit : that they belonged to the East, and shared 
 in the Oriental passion for grandeur, and reverence for 
 external signs of greatness; and yet withal had much 
 
1 82 ■ LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 of the practicalness of the West, which requires some- 
 thing more than symbol and form. As Jews, more- 
 over, they doubtless regarded Mount Zion as the seat 
 of Messiah's throne, and Jerusalem as the radiating 
 center of the glory which was to flood the earth. 
 Let us remember that they were now journeying to 
 Jerusalem in company, (as they fully believed) with the 
 ' Messiah himself, whose especial friends and followers 
 they were. As such they could not but expect to be 
 particularly honored in the general exaltation of their 
 Nation. It was not in human nature to think other- 
 wise, even if nothing had been said about it. But 
 Christ himself from time to time threw out intimations 
 which tended to encourage such expectations. 
 
 Thus it was but a few days before the present occur- 
 rence that one of them had asked the Master, saying: 
 " Behold we have forsaken all and followed thee: What 
 shall we have therefor?" And " Jesus said unto them, 
 verily, I say unto you, that ye, which have followed 
 me, in the regeneration, when the Son of Man shall sit 
 in the throne of his glory, ye also shall sit upon twelve 
 thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel." Because 
 now we, standing where we do, know what Christ 
 meant better than those simple-hearted Jews could have 
 known, because we know that the regeneration and 
 throne of which he spoke, as they were more purely 
 spiritual, so also were more glorious than those which 
 they imagined — shall we wonder, if to them, visions 
 of present and earthly greatness mingled with the views 
 of spiritual elevation and power, which Christ promised ? 
 But further : we learn elsewhere that the disciples were 
 at this time full of the belief that the time had now come 
 for Christ's Kingdom to be established. Luke in speaking 
 of this journey says, "They thought that the kingdom 
 of God should immediately appear." How this expecta- 
 
SERMONS. I83 
 
 tion was produced we are not told. It may have been 
 one of those indefinable presentiments which sometimes 
 visit the soul as harbingers of some great approaching 
 Providence, and which, to the disciples flushed with 
 exultation and joy, would naturally assume the form 
 and hue of their own hopes. Or it may have been 
 impressed on them by the manner and language of 
 Christ as the Last Hour drew near — to him the Hour 
 of the Power of Darkness, to them the Hour of his 
 Coronation and Universal Kingship. They journeyed on, 
 therefore, in eager joy, like a traveler approaching his 
 journey's end, who knows that the next turn of the 
 road will bring him into full view of his home. But, 
 as sometimes a great joy brings with it a great Fear, as 
 the traveler's heart sinks suddenly within him, if, as he 
 draws near his home, a wail of grief be borne upon his 
 ears, so we find that on this occasion a nameless dread 
 fell on the Twelve. Mark says: "And they were in 
 the way going to Jerusalem, and Jesus went before 
 them ; and they were amazed ; and as they followed 
 they were afraid." Observe the particulars. Full of the 
 joy and exultation with which the recent promises and 
 declarations of Christ had filled their souls, and hav- 
 ing their Divine Leader in the midst of them, "they 
 were in the way going up to Jerusalem ; when lo ! 
 their Lord withdrew himself from them and went on 
 alone. The dread Hour of his Loneliness was drawing 
 nigh. Behold, the hour cometh, yea, is now come, 
 that ye shall be scattered every man to his own, and 
 shall leave me alone ! Alone is he to tread the wine- 
 press : Alone to face the Powers of Darkness : Alo?ie 
 to bear the world's sin : Alone to enter the Holiest 
 Place to appear before God for man. And now as the 
 shadow of that great and lonely sorrow falls on his 
 spirit, what can he do but retire from those childlike 
 
1 84 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 men, flushed as they are with a blind joy, and occupied 
 as each is with his own little dream of greatness. But 
 observe that in withdrawing from them he does not lag 
 behind, nor turn aside. "Jesus went before them." 
 No shrinking, no faltering; firmly, resolutely, he leads 
 the way. But now that mysterious and silent solitari- 
 ness fixes their attention and troubles their souls. 
 "They are amazed;" that loneliness, that silence, that 
 eager resolution — what can it all mean? At first 
 amazed, their astonishment soon deepens into fear. 
 " As they follow they are afraid." They too begin to 
 enter the shadow, and trembling possesses them. Then 
 the Master, knowing by Divine Sympathy their state, 
 and that now they are better prepared to hear the sad 
 truth of which it is so necessary to remind them, min- 
 gles with them once more and begins to address them, 
 saying, "Behold, we go up to Jerusalem." Observe 
 how he has come forth out of that " lofty solitariness " 
 in which he was just now enshrouded, and makes him- 
 self one of them. " We go up to Jerusalem." There 
 for the third time recorded, he tells them what is about 
 to befall himself. "The Son of Man shall be betrayed 
 unto the chief priests and unto the scribes, and they 
 shall condemn him to death, and shall deliver him to 
 the Gentiles to mock and to scourge and to crucify; 
 and the third day he shall rise again." How full, perfect 
 and distinct his knowledge of all that was to befall him, 
 of each particular suffering, anguish and shame. And 
 this was what he had just been contemplating; it was 
 to meet this that he went forth so calmly and courage- 
 ously! "But they," says Luke, "understood none of 
 these things, and this saying was hid from them. Neither 
 knew they the things which were spoken." Do we won- 
 der at their blindness, their want of understanding? 
 True, they were not blameless. The saying, dark and 
 
SERMONS. 185 
 
 troublous as it was, should not have been hid altogether 
 from them! Still let us make all just allowances. Let 
 us remember how difficult it was for a Jew to reconcile 
 such degradation, suffering and shame, with the exalta- 
 tion, power and glory of the Messiah. Let us remem- 
 ber again that this was not the first time that they had 
 heard such words ; and this fact, although, regarded from 
 one point of view, it might seem to aggravate their 
 blameworthiness, yet looked at from another, it would 
 seem to lessen it. For since those previous occasions 
 on which these strange words had been uttered, had 
 they not daily heard the " Kingdom of heaven" spoken 
 of, and had not Christ so lately foretold a regeneration 
 in which they should sit on twelve thrones, besides 
 promising that they should receive a hundredfold in 
 this life for their devotion and self-sacrifice in his serv- 
 ice ? Let us remember, moreover, what strong and sud- 
 den transitions their feelings had just undergone. 
 
 In rapid succession Hope, Astonishment, and Fear 
 had filled, oppressed, and shaken their souls. They 
 were still trembling from the latter when those forebod- 
 ing words fell on their ears. What more natural in such 
 a state of mental prostration than that they should be 
 stunned, overwhelmed on the one hand by what was 
 dark, mysterious and alarming in those words, and 
 blindly catch on the other at whatever might afford en- 
 couragement and hope. And what of promise might 
 not be contained in those closing words — c ' the third day 
 he shall rise again." To minds so suddenly brought 
 down from a state of joyous hope to one of bodeful, 
 dimly understood fear, one such hope-breathing word 
 would as suddenly remove the load which weighed them 
 down, and cause their minds at once to spring back to 
 their original level of joyous and eager expectation. 
 Now it is at just such a moment of trembling hope, of 
 
1 86 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 bewildered expectancy, of shaken conviction striving to 
 reassure and to intensify itself, that the mind in its anx- 
 iety to test the security of its hold upon the future, puts 
 forth its most secret desires, and seeks to embody them 
 in something tangible, something at hand. When the 
 soul is just recovering from the sudden shock of some 
 momentary doubt, its most secret hopes will escape 
 from it unawares, and the lingering shadow of the doubt, 
 the bewildered eagerness of the soul not yet fully un- 
 derstanding itself, nor fully master of its desires, prompts 
 a reaching forth to the hoped for good, not so much to 
 grasp it as yet, as to make sure that it is not an airy 
 dream, but a reality. Such was the disciples' state of 
 mind at this time, manifesting itself, however, in one 
 form in two of the disciples, and in another among the 
 remaining ten. The feeling, however, was essentially the 
 same in all. 
 
 We begin with the first form of its manifestation. 
 Then came to him the mother of Zebedee's children 
 with her two sons, worshiping him, and desiring a cer- 
 tain thing of him, and he said unto her, "What wilt 
 thou ! " She saith unto him, "Grant that these my two 
 sons may sit, the one on thy right hand, and the other 
 on the left, in thy kingdom." Although Salome, the 
 mother, is represented as the speaker, and although un- 
 doubtedly her maternal pri4e and love would engage 
 her interest in behalf of her sons, still it is evident from 
 the reply of Jesus, and the conduct of the other disci- 
 ples, that we are to identify John and James with their 
 mother in the request: and in Mark's account of the 
 scene, the mother is not mentioned at all. We inquire 
 therefore, how came this request to be made by these 
 two disciples? 
 
 In accordance with the theory of the case already 
 suggested, this request was an impulsive expression of 
 
SERMONS. 1 87 
 
 the form which their hopes and desires in respect to 
 the future had taken in their own minds. To sit on 
 the right hand and on the left of Christ in his kingdom 
 was to occupy the highest positions both of honor and 
 of trust. 
 
 This then was the secret ambition of these two men: 
 to be nearest to Christ in official rank, and also in per- 
 sonal confidence, and now in their peculiar state of 
 mind, they by an irresistible impulse betrayed it. But 
 next the question arises why did these two, James and 
 John, in particular entertain and express this ambition ? 
 And here you will observe that the question concerns 
 principally the expression of the wish, for as we shall see 
 presently the wish itself was not peculiar to them. 
 Leaving then out of consideration the doubtful supposi- 
 tion of some that Salome was the sister of Joseph, the 
 reputed father of Jesus, we find one ground of the am- 
 bition of these men in their character. It is abundantly 
 evident that James and John were both ardent, impul- 
 sive, large-hearted, whole-souled men. They gave very 
 decisive evidence of this, just about this time. Luke 
 relates that during; this same journey he sent messengers 
 "before his face into a village of the Samaritans to 
 make ready for him. And they did not receive him, 
 because his face was as though he would go to Jernsa- 
 lem." And when James and John saw this, they said 
 with characteristic impetuosity, "Lord, wilt thou that 
 we command fire to come down from heaven and con- 
 sume them as Elias did?" Again it is said that Christ 
 surnamed John and James Boanerges, which is, Sons 
 of thunder: in allusion most likely to their character. 
 And this same ardency of temperament will perhaps 
 serve to account for the fact that one of them, James, 
 was the first of all the Apostles to suffer martyrdom, 
 and that the other, John, was the bosom-friend of Jesus. 
 
1 88 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 Such characters were not the men to do things by- 
 halves, especially when, being brothers, each would 
 naturally know and encourage the aspirations of the 
 other. Their ambition would reach up to the highest 
 pitch attainable. And the same impetuosity of Spirit 
 will account for their being the first to express their am- 
 bitious wish. They were too impulsive as well as too 
 honest to go about wearing a look of hypocritical hu- 
 mility, and making a false impression of a modesty 
 which they did not feel. They wanted to be first, and 
 they said so. 
 
 It would seem at ' first as though such a demonstra- 
 tion would be made by the impetuous Peter before all 
 the others. But on examination it will be found, I 
 think, that the impetuosity of Peter was that of will; 
 the impetuosity of John and James that of feeling. 
 The former would rush to the breach when something 
 was to be done; the latter would be so carried away by 
 their emotions as not to know what to do. Peter did 
 not stop to ask Christ about the servant of Malchus, 
 ' ' Lord, wilt thou that I take my sword out of my scab- 
 bard and cut off this man's ear?" He did it. And, 
 therefore it is, that on this occasion, when the disciples' 
 feelings were moved without any cause for immediate 
 action, John and James were the spokesmen rather 
 than Peter. 
 
 Another ground of their ambition may be found in 
 the fact that they were evidently favored disciples. 
 
 One of these, we have seen, was Christ's bosom friend, 
 who was wont to recline next to him at the table, and 
 who speaks of himself as the disciple whom Jesus 
 loved. They, with Peter, were the sole witnesses of the 
 transfiguration, and also of the resurrection of the 
 daughter of Jairus, besides which we find various other 
 indications of favor. Once more, their mother was 
 
SERMONS. I89 
 
 with them, who had herself followed Christ when he 
 was in Galilee, and ministered unto him, and who 
 might perhaps consider that this fact would give weight 
 to her petitions in behalf of her sons. At all events 
 she formed the bond between the brothers on this occa- 
 sion, and was their medium of approach to Christ; and 
 the fact of their having such a medium must be taken 
 into account as one of the probable occasions of their 
 making the request. 
 
 But -let us now turn our attention to the expression 
 which the common feeling of the disciples took in the 
 remaining ten. ' ' When the ten heard it, they were 
 moved with indignation against the two brethren." Of 
 course ! How dared they express for themselves the 
 secret ambition of each one of the rest ? For we 
 know that each one did covet the highest position for 
 himself, since again and again they disputed among 
 themselves who should be the greatest, and the reply 
 of Christ shows that this was the predominant passion 
 at this time. And now when two of their number had 
 the audacity to try to snatch the prize from all the 
 others, how could they help feeling aggrieved, yea, 
 more, indignant ? And in all probability their indigna- 
 tion assumed an extremely self-complacent form. Such 
 is the inconsistency of poor human nature, that they 
 flattered themselves, no doubt, that they were glowing 
 with a highly virtuous indignation against the insuffer- 
 able pride and selfishness of the sons of Zebedee for 
 daring to anticipate themselves. 
 
 Having thus endeavored to get an idea of the posi- 
 tion of the disciples, and the state of their feelings, 
 there remains to consider the replies of Christ, first — to 
 the brothers, then — to the ten. And here we cannot 
 help noticing the great gentleness and tenderness of his 
 reply to James and John. " Ye know not what ye ask," 
 
I gO LLEWELYN' IOAN EVANS. 
 
 spoken, as I conceive, not sharply, reproachfully, but 
 mildly, compassionately, lovingly, as though he should 
 say : ' ' What ye desire, my beloved, is indeed the high- 
 est and worthiest object which man can seek, and I can 
 but honor and love even this blind reaching forth of 
 yours toward it. Would, however, that you fully 
 understood yourselves, and knew what you ask for ! " 
 
 Do we understand this gentleness of Jesus? Cer- 
 tainly not in the full depth and beauty of it, but some 
 of its features we perhaps may see. Do we not, for 
 instance, see something here of that love of honesty a?td 
 downright sincerity , which so eminently characterized 
 Jesus ? Did he not see in the outspoken frankness of 
 these men, so free from all false affectation of humility, 
 something noble and manly? Again, did he not rec- 
 ognize in this frank request of theirs a feeling of strong 
 personal attachment to himself '? Can the mother chide 
 harshly her own child whose greatest fault is that it 
 loves her too well to bear to be away from her ? And 
 is it likely that Christ would be very severe on those 
 whose highest blessedness it was to be nearest their 
 Lord, whom to be with and to love forever is heaven ? 
 And above all, do we not see here a little of that 
 mystery of divine sympathy in Christ by which he 
 clothes man in his own righteousness ; by which he 
 looks upon our imperfect prayers, and wishes, and 
 efforts in the light of what in them is from himself; 
 translates our stammering words into the language of 
 his own Divine heart; surrounds our fluttering aspira- 
 tions with the atmosphere of his own love, and lifts 
 them to heaven ; bathes our souls in the radiance of 
 his own infinite beauty ; idealizes our characters into 
 his own perfect image, which they now so faintly 
 reflect ; and regards us, not as we are now in ourselves, 
 but as we shall be when that which is earthly is put 
 
SERMONS. IQI 
 
 off, and we are clothed upon by that which is heavenly, 
 having fully put on the Lord Jesus Christ. 
 
 Thus, therefore, instead of reproving the pride of the 
 disciples, as some of us might have done, he seems to 
 regard their request as springing from the germ, at least, 
 of a ?whle aspiration ; instead of blaming them for what 
 was earthly and materialistic in their views, he seems 
 to sympathize with the difficulty which they met in 
 having perfectly just views f of the matter, and looking at 
 them in loving admiration, to feel : What truthfulness ! 
 What affection ! What lofty-mindedness ! What de- 
 voted zeal! Thus, as it were, idealizing the spark of 
 love which now flickers so dimly and uncertainly, and 
 amid so much impure smoke, into that pure flame of 
 heroic self-sacrifice which burned so brightly in the 
 martyrdom of James, and in the life-long endurance 
 and love of John. 
 
 In no other way does it appear to me can we under- 
 stand the reply of Christ, and it seems to be from a 
 failure properly to appreciate this Divine Sympathy of 
 the Redeemer that so many commentators have either 
 attempted to put a harsher construction on the reply of 
 Christ than his words and the spirit of the scene can 
 possibly justify; or else have expressed their undisguised 
 astonishment at the exceeding gentleness of his manner 
 towards them. I do not deny that there might have 
 been a tender sadness in his tone ; and that the mourn- 
 ful compassionateness of his look and voice ought to 
 have caused some misgivings in their minds about the 
 character or form of their petition, when the Master 
 said : " Ye know not what ye ask. Are ye able to drink 
 of the cup that I shall drink of, and to be baptized with 
 the baptism that I am baptized with ?" But they were 
 too eagerly intent on securing their desire to heed the 
 significance of Christ's manner, or to feel the great dis- 
 
192 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS, 
 
 proportionateness between, that which they coveted, and 
 that which Christ held out to them, and so they answer 
 unhesitatingly, " We are able." How truly had Jesus 
 said : " Ye know not what ye ask. " 
 
 But how did they understand this question of Christ ? 
 We know that the cup of which Christ was to drink was 
 the cup of suffering, and that the baptism wherewith he 
 was to be baptized was the baptism of blood. Did they 
 thus understand him ? Or did they suppose, as some 
 affirm, that he spoke of drinking of the royal cup, and 
 washing their hands in the royal ewer — marks of the 
 highest distinction and honor ? There can be but little 
 doubt that they understood the words in their true sense, 
 though not in their full meaning, as is apparent from 
 the subsequent words of Christ, as well as their own re- 
 ply. And besides the question was put in such a form 
 that they could not easily misunderstand it. 
 
 The very first word of the question implied something 
 else than a mark of favor: " Are ye able V y Implying 
 that what he was about to propose required effort, 
 strength, resolution. And their reply shows that they 
 thus understood it: " We are able." Admitting now 
 that they knew not well what they said, granting that 
 they knew not the bitterness of the cup, nor the ter- 
 rors of the baptism, and, that perhaps they erroneously 
 supposed the suffering of Christ held out before them 
 to be but a brief transition to the glory of his reign, is 
 there not, after all, enough left for us to admire in their 
 self-sacrificing devotion to Christ, and in their lofty con- 
 fidence in his power both to triumph himself, and to 
 help them to triumph in the approaching struggle, and 
 to end by reigning over all? Such, at least, seems to 
 have been the view which Christ took of their reply. 
 He recognizes the earnestness of their self-consecration 
 and the sincerity of their purpose ; he even tenderly 
 
SERMONS. 193 
 
 foreshadows to them the fact that the hour is coming 
 when they shall drink of his cup and share his bap- 
 tism. He does not deny that there are degrees of 
 honor in his kingdom, and positions of power and inti- 
 macy with himself to which his followers may lawfully 
 aspire ; nor does he intimate, as many think, that they 
 might not attain to such positions ; he, however, tells 
 them mildly yet firmly, that their wish could not be 
 obtained as a gift instantaneously bestowed upon them, 
 but must be reached throuph a preparatory course of dis- 
 cipline, by the Father. " And he saith unto them, ye 
 shall drink indeed of my cup, and be baptized with the 
 baptism that I am baptized with ; but to sit on my 
 right hand and on my left, it is not mine to give, ex- 
 cept to those for whom it is prepared of my Father." 
 Our version which reads, ' ' it is not mine to give, but it shall 
 be given to them for whom it is prepared," impairs the 
 force of the passage : first, by taking away the granting 
 of the gift from Christ ; next, by failing to bring out 
 properly the antithesis between giving and preparing ; 
 the former expressing the instantaneous bestowment of 
 the honor, the latter the disciplinary process through 
 which it is reached — "It is not mine to give, except to 
 those for whom it is prepared by my Father." 
 
 The whole reply accordingly implies a recognition of 
 the legitimacy of a pure and lofty Christian aspira- 
 tion : — a loving appreciation of the real earnestness of 
 these two disciples : — a gentle intimation of the future 
 trial and triumph of their faith : — and the distinct an- 
 nouncement of discipline as the law of advancement in 
 the Kingdom Of Christ. Such, then, was the character 
 of this interview between Christ and Salome, with her 
 two sons, forming at the time a little group by them- 
 selves. Meanwhile, the Ten who were probably near 
 enough to. witness the whole interview, were, as we 
 
194 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 have already seen, excited by deep indignation against 
 the selfishness and presumption of their two compan- 
 ions who had so rashly and unexpectedly dared to step 
 between themselves and the prize. Jesus seeing this, 
 called them unto him, and said: "Ye know that the 
 princes of the Gentiles exercise dominion over them, 
 and they that are great exercise authority upon them. 
 Not so shall it be among you, but whosoever will be 
 great among you, let him be your minister, and who- 
 soever will be chief among you, let him be your servant ; 
 even as the Son of man came not to be ministered 
 unto, but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for 
 many." 
 
 Here let me ask : Does it not strike you that there 
 is a difference between the conduct of Christ toward 
 the Ten, and his conduct toward the two Brothers? 
 Do you not detect a new element in his language? 
 True, there is tenderness, sympathy, love, as before, 
 and as always in Christ's words ; but does not this 
 seem tempered with a degree of decisiveness, almost 
 sternness, even? Compare the compassionate tender- 
 ness of his remarks to the brothers: "Ye know not 
 what ye ask," with his abrupt and pointed reference to 
 the ambition of the world and its rulers, in his first re- 
 marks to the Ten: "Ye know that the princes of the 
 Gentiles exercise dominion over them." Compare 
 again his mild questioning of the former: "Are ye 
 able to drink of the cup that I shall drink of," with 
 the strong decisive "Not so" addressed to the latter: 
 "Not so shall it be among you." 
 
 Why, now, this mildness in the one case, and this 
 comparative peremptoriness in the other ? Does it not 
 seem to be founded on the difference of disposition 
 which we have already noticed ? Was it not because 
 there was more honesty and sincerity in the former case 
 
SERMONS. 195 
 
 than in the latter? I do not say, observe, that originally 
 the feelings and motives of James and John were any 
 more pure and sincere than those of Peter, Andrew, 
 Philip, and the rest. They were all alike, simple, un- 
 sophisticated Jews, who had found the Messiah; who 
 had abandoned all to follow him ; who had very good 
 reason for believing that they should share the glory of 
 his coming Kingship ; who entertained a fond desire to 
 be nearest to their Lord in his and their exaltation — a 
 desire which was certainly very natural, and in some of 
 its features a very amiable one ; not altogether sinful 
 therefore, although at times it assumed, we must say, 
 a decidedly selfish form. And at this particular junc- 
 ture, as we have seen, this desire with all its concom- 
 itant feelings, had been quickened and stimulated to an 
 extraordinary pitch of excitement, which impelled it to 
 demonstrations much stronger and more marked than 
 was usual, hi its simple form, therefore, this feeling 
 was not sincerer or purer in the case of James and John 
 than in the case of the others. But everything depends 
 on the use which a man makes of his feelings, on the 
 practical issue which he gives to them. John and James 
 made an honest use of their feelings. They went straight 
 to Jesus, and told him their most secret thought. We 
 have seen how Jesus received them. The others were 
 not so honest. Each one nourished his ambition within 
 himself, and brooded over it in the recesses of his own 
 heart, the tendency of which is always evil, as in this 
 case. For no sooner did the other two disciples tread 
 on it, than like a viper coiled up in the long grass, it 
 sprung up fiercely, breathing selfish jealousy and envi- 
 ous indignation. Then Christ holds up the mirror be- 
 fore it that it may see itself in all its ugliness. "Ye 
 know that the princes of the Gentiles exercise dominion 
 over them, and they that are great exercise authority 
 
I96 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 upon them." There in the pride and selfishness of the 
 princes of the Gentiles, Christ holds up before them 
 the image, or at least the legitimate development of 
 their own. 
 
 It is, perhaps, impossible for us to understand the 
 meaning which these words then spoken, had for a Jew. 
 Rome was then in the zenith of her glory. Roman 
 Rule — Roman Law— Roman Right — Roman Vengeance 
 were everywhere. Rome was the world; the world 
 was Rome. 
 
 And never was Power, Authority, the State, any- 
 thing like what it was in the Roman Empire. It was 
 all in all. The State was everything: the individual 
 nothing. Soon after the time of our Saviour this idea 
 attained at the same time its consummation and its fall in 
 the deification of the Emperor. But nowhere was this 
 power felt more crushingly and at the same time more 
 rebelliously than in Palestine. There the yoke of the 
 stranger was on God's own people. There the false 
 gods of the heathen had invaded the chosen precincts 
 of the only true and living God. There the Roman 
 Emperor was a usurper of the throne of Jehovah. Thus 
 to a Jew, state domination — earthly rule, was synony- 
 mous not only with oppression, extortion and rapine, 
 but also with blasphemy and sacrilege. Such was the 
 image of selfish and worldly ambition which Christ now 
 held up to his disciples. They had dreamed and talked 
 of a Kingdom of Heaven — of a New Jerusalem: they 
 looked in the mirror, and behold ! to their shame and 
 dismay, it was Rome. And now in contrast to Rome, 
 Christ exhibits to them his own Kingdom. "Not so 
 shall it be among you : but whosoever will be great 
 among you, let him be your minister, and whosoever 
 will be chief among you, let him be your servant." 
 No, my Beloved ! the New Jerusalem is not Rome. In 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 I 9 7 
 
 my Kingdom, to be great is to be humble : — to be first 
 is, not to be served, but to serve : — to be chief is, not 
 to sit on a throne, but to bend down to wash the feet 
 of the humblest disciple : to be a King is, not to wear 
 a crown, but to carry a cross: — to have power is to do 
 good: — to live is to die, and to die daily. "Even as 
 the Son of Man," the Highest, the first of all— the King 
 of Heaven and Earth — "came not to be ministered unto, 
 but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for many." 
 And thus he leads them once more into the shadow of 
 the great coming Sorrow : and there we shall now leave 
 them, sadder, and let us hope, wiser men. 
 
 It has been the aim of this Discourse not to enlarge 
 upon the great and important principles recognized and 
 announced by Christ in the words of the text, but to 
 enter a little into the spirit of the scene — to appreciate 
 as far as possible the feelings and actions of the disci- 
 ples — and to see and feel to some extent the wonderful 
 and Divine Sympathy of Jesus : in the belief that the 
 more we can understand of the history of Christ, the 
 more we can penetrate the depth, beauty, and tender- 
 ness of his character, the nearer we can come to that 
 Infinite Heart of Love, which throbs in every look, 
 word, and act of his the better, the stronger, the more 
 Godlike shall we become. Let us now recall a few of 
 the more prominent lessons here taught us. In James 
 and John, we have seen the inestimable worth of truth, 
 of manly sincerity. Very wise we cannot call them, at 
 least on this occasion. Indeed it was very foolish of 
 them to encounter the prejudices and hostility of the 
 rest by such a course as they pursued. Such young 
 men moreover: probably about the youngest members 
 of the company. Truly we cannot say that they were 
 over prudent, or considerate, or altogether as modest 
 as was becoming. But they were downright honest; 
 
I98 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 they were sincere out and out. And they loved Christ, 
 and wanted to be near him. And Christ knew this. 
 He read their souls in their looks, and he could not 
 help loving them. And how gently he treats them as 
 a mother treats a child who is naughty from excess of 
 fondness. He seems almost to overlook their faults ; al- 
 most — not quite. He makes them feel guilty enough 
 before he is through with them: but so delicately: by 
 saying so little. A candid man needs but little to make 
 him feel his faults. Now Jesus is the same yesterday 
 and to-day; still he loves honesty, genuineness, sincer- 
 ity. He loves to have his disciples come to him, and 
 open their hearts before him. He loves to hear them 
 ask all they want. No matter how poor the wish, 
 nor how lame the language, nor how much you 
 may be ashamed of it, take it to Christ, my brother, 
 and he will accept it with such infinite grace from your 
 hands, he will regard it with such favor, and in his 
 smile it will look so beautiful, that you will hardly be 
 able to recognize it for the poor worthless thing which 
 you laid at his feet. And if while meaning well you 
 do make any mistake, he will let you know it in such 
 a way, and teach you better with such condescension 
 and love, that you will almost feel tempted to be 
 thankful that you fell into the mistake for the sake of 
 the lesson. Trust Christ. He says, "It is I: be 
 not afraid." Tell him all — He loves to be trusted, and 
 he will reward your confidence. Keep your Heart- 
 door open : Christ will walk in, and sup with you, and 
 you with him. 
 
 In the ten disciples we may learn how good men, by 
 failing to be thoroughly honest with themselves, fall into 
 sin. We can not help sympathizing largely with the 
 Ten on this occasion. Each one had sacrificed his all 
 no less than the sons of Zebedee: Christ's promises 
 
SERMONS. I99 
 
 were his as much as any other's ; and it must have been 
 extremely trying for a man like Peter, e. g. t so much 
 older in years, and not wanting in self-respect either, 
 as we very well know, to see such forwardness on the 
 part of these youths. On the whole, it was certainly 
 very hard to show much forbearance at such a time. 
 But the trouble is they were not honest in the matter. 
 They stood aside and murmured together, and worked 
 themselves and each other into a state of righteous in- 
 dignation against the pride of these young men, when 
 they themselves were every whit as proud. They fretted 
 away their jealousy in a factitious wrath against selfish- 
 ness ; and clothed their own pride in a false humility. 
 They were dishonest ; than which nothing is more op- 
 posed to the spirit of Christ. He hates all pride ; but 
 of all forms of it, he hates most, false humility. He 
 hates all envy, but most of all when it cloaks itself in a 
 lying zeal for holiness or truth. He hates all sin, but 
 above all he abhors the hypocrisy which frowns in 
 public on the sin with which it dallies in secret. Hu- 
 mility, Propriety, Zeal, all are good ; but honesty is bet- 
 ter. Be just to all ; but don't forget to deal fairly by 
 yourself. It is very charitable to undertake to pick out 
 the mote in your neighbor's eye, but you will do it 
 much better when you have taken the beam out of 
 your own. Brother! Be honest with yourself. It is 
 the first condition of all sincerity. 
 
 But let us turn away from these men, erring and im- 
 perfect at best, to the Perfect, the Divine Jesus. As 
 men, these were, indeed, the worthiest, the truest, on 
 the whole, the best men which this earth of ours could 
 then boast of. Yet how much that is unworthy, insin- 
 cere, sinful even in them. How infinite the difference 
 between them and Christ. How their meanness cowered 
 in his presence ! How their insincerities shriveled to- 
 
200 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 gether in his glance ! How their selfishness shrunk at 
 his words ! How their petty jealousies slunk away- 
 abashed ! And yet, how, with all their faults, he loved 
 them still ! How he bore with their weaknesses ! How 
 he recognized whatever was noble, worthy and lovable ! 
 How he encouraged every feeble aspiration, and led it 
 heavenward, even "as an eagle stirreth up her nest, 
 fluttereth over her young, spreadeth abroad her wings, 
 taketh them and beareth them on her wings." How 
 gently he admonishes them of error; taking it away 
 from them and giving truth in its place, as a mother 
 tenderly takes from her child a dangerous tool, by giv- 
 ing it something which is both beautiful and safe. How 
 he humbled himself down to them ; made himself one 
 of them ; how in exhorting them to be humble, he 
 humbled himself to all ; how when he called them to go, 
 he led the way ; how, as they were to suffer, he suf- 
 fered ; as they were to give their lives for one another, 
 he gave his life for all. "As the Son of Man came 
 not to be ministered unto, but to minister and to give 
 his life a ransom for many." 
 
 And, now, as by those words, Christ led his disciples 
 into the shadow of the cross, let us go there also. 
 "Behold the Lamb of God." See there the whole 
 life of Christ, consummating itself in the one act of 
 death. For the death of Christ, unlike any other 
 death, was an act. "I lay down my life that I might 
 take it again. No man taketh it from me. I lay it 
 down of myself. " It was the last, the highest act of Per- 
 fect Sympathy, of Divine Compassion, of Infinite Love. 
 The same Sympathy — the same Compassion — the same 
 Love — which not only on his last journey to Jerusalem, 
 but in every act of his life had throbbed and thrilled, 
 and glowed, and burned, now gathering itself together 
 for one act of self-sacrifice, which was to express the 
 
SERMONS. 201 
 
 Love of God forever ! Brother ! Take yourself to the 
 cross ! Take all you have there. Take your greatness. 
 How small it will appear ! Your honor, your talent, 
 your influence, your fame — how insignificant and 
 worthless ! 
 
 Take your sins. How black they will look. Your 
 pride — how unutterably mean ! Your envy — how con- 
 temptible ! Your insincerity — how you will despise it! 
 Your selfishness — how you will hate it. Take your 
 virtues there. What poor things they will seem. Your 
 love — how faint ! Your faith — how weak ! Your sin- 
 cerity — how hollow ! Your devoutest prayers — how 
 heartless ! Your most heavenly thoughts — how grovel- 
 ing ! Your most beautiful actions — how deformed ! 
 Will you dare to trust in these? Or will you not 
 rather trust in that Divine Sympathy which gathers all 
 up in itself and robes all in its own glory? Will you 
 not rather trust in that Love, which there — on that 
 Cross — is stronger than the agony of death — the rage 
 of devils, and the hatred of the world, and expires, 
 saying : ' ' Father, forgive them, they know not what 
 they do!" 
 
IX. 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN'S DEBT. 
 
 Romans i : 14. " For I am debtor both to the Greeks and to the Barbarians ; both to 
 the wise and to the unwise." 
 
 Here speaks an honest man, if ever an honest man 
 has lived in this world. First we have the honest con- 
 fession of a debt, a debt which multitudes have owed 
 no less than Paul, but which, not having his honesty, 
 they have failed to acknowledge. Next, in the verse 
 following, we have a proof of Paul's honest purpose to 
 pay that debt. "So as much as in me is, I am ready 
 to preach the gospel to you that are at Rome also." 
 Because Paul is a debtor to the world, he is anxious 
 to preach the gospel in Rome-, in Rome, we may sup- 
 pose above any other place, because it is at the time 
 of Paul's speaking, the mistress of the world, the ear, 
 as it is the head and the heart, of the globe; and to 
 preach the gospel in Rome, is to preach it in the 
 world's pulpit. If to these words you add the whole 
 story of Paul's life, you will get a still clearer insight 
 into his idea of life as a debt, and a still more vivid 
 impression of the grandeur and power of that idea. 
 Paul, I say, was an honest man. He represents the 
 very highest type of honesty. 
 
 There are various grades of honesty in the world. 
 One of the most obvious, and at the same time super- 
 ficial, is what we may call material honesty, honesty 
 (202) 
 
SERMONS. 203 
 
 touching material obligations, business integrity, finan- 
 cial rectitude, honesty in money matters, money being 
 the ordinary equivalent of what these obligations rep- 
 resent. This quality indeed is by no means to be dis- 
 paraged. There are occasions when it even touches 
 the height of true nobility. In our own times it needs 
 to be emphasized anew, for there is none too much of 
 it in the land, although we would fain believe it is not 
 so rare as some indications would lead us to fear. Yet 
 after all, judging by the more spiritual tests, this kind 
 of honesty is comparatively superficial. It does not 
 need much spirituality or moral delicacy to see, that for 
 value received there must be value rendered, that when 
 a dollar is owed there is a dollar to pay. In fact, there 
 are a plenty of men in the world whose financial hon- 
 esty is irreproachable, whose general morality is coarse 
 grained enough. A man whose word is as good as his 
 bond, and whose bond is as good as gold, may have 
 a tongue all foul with ribald slime, and a soul that 
 crawls in the mire. 
 
 There is an honesty, however, which looks beyond 
 material obligations, which does not limit the relations 
 of debtor and creditor to the sphere of dollars and 
 cents. It recognizes various forms of indebtedness 
 within the realm of the immaterial. Among these 
 debts we may name gratitude, reverence, faith, service. 
 The world's benefactors are its creditors. To those 
 who have toiled and sacrificed much for our good, we 
 owe a debt of endless gratitude. To those who tower 
 above us in loftiness of character and attainment, to 
 all that stands over us in the attitude of guidance and 
 authority, we owe reverence. There is a debt of faith 
 due from us to all that worthily inspires confidence. 
 There is a debt of service, care and help, which those 
 who are dependent upon us may rightfully claim at our 
 
204 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 hands. These are debts in the proper sense of the 
 word, being due from us as truly as any obligations 
 that we incur by buying or borrowing. They are the 
 foundation of our duties, for as I need not remind you, 
 debt, due, duty, are all simply variations of the same 
 word. Wherever there is a duty there is a debt, and 
 to be false to duty is repudiation. That is our name 
 for sin: repudiation. You see, accordingly, that true 
 honesty goes much deeper than the pocket. It pulls 
 at the heart-strings as well as the purse-strings. It 
 has a balance sheet which sums up not in dead dollars 
 and cents, but in the living currency of souls. It is 
 possible, however, within either of these spheres, the 
 material or immaterial, to take what we may call the 
 purely commercial view of what we owe. That is to 
 some extent natural, perhaps, seeing that a debt at once 
 suggests an equivalent, a quid piv quo. It is easy for 
 us accordingly to fall into the way of applying the 
 quid pro quo rule , to ask, What is the value received 
 in this case ? How much do I owe ? What must I 
 pay? It is possible and even easy to take this way of 
 estimating our obligations, as though they rested on a 
 purely commercial basis of pure reciprocity, and every 
 duty was a problem in equations. 
 
 I remark that there is an honesty which does not 
 stop to measure its obligations by any merely legal or 
 commercial standard, which does not weigh its debts in 
 the balance of simple reciprocity, which does not ask, 
 How much must I pay? There is an honesty which 
 glories in its debts, which believes and rejoices in the 
 strange paradox: He that pays his debts to God and 
 to the world, shall owe more abundantly, and the more 
 he owes, and the more he pays, the richer he shall be, 
 the richer in possession for himself, and the more fruit- 
 ful in benefit for others. 
 
SERMONS. 205 
 
 This is the honesty of which I take Paul to be the 
 exponent when he says, " I am debtor both to the 
 Greeks and to the Barbarians, both to the wise and to 
 the unwise," or when he says elsewhere, "1 made 
 myself servant unto all." " I am made all things to all 
 men." These are the obligations on which I would 
 dwell more particularly at this time, of which we may 
 comprehensively speak as the debt of the Christimty or 
 Christ's service rega7'ded as a debt. 
 
 Before considering our theme in those higher and 
 more ennobling aspects, which I have just foreshad- 
 owed, it may be well to look at it briefly on its lower 
 side, taking an estimate of our debts according to the 
 quid pro quo rule of equivalents or compensation. 
 
 1. I begin then, by remarking that we do, in fact, 
 owe something to the world in return for what the 
 world has done for us. Although this view is not the 
 highest that can be taken, it is nevertheless a legitimate 
 and useful view of what is required of us. It is a 
 view which should appeal to our sense of justice and 
 of honor, and one which may serve to show our short- 
 comings, judging even by this standard. It needs but 
 a moment's consideration to realize in some measure 
 the facts of this indebtedness, and the greatness of it. 
 We do owe something — nay, we do owe much to the 
 world, or, if you please, to society, to humanity, in 
 return for what the world, society, humanity, has done 
 for us. Let any one try to imagine what he would have 
 been, but for the benefits which he has received from 
 what others have done. What would any one's life be 
 but for the contributions which the world has made to 
 it? We are heirs of the past, and beneficiaries of the 
 present. The house you live in, the clothes you wear, 
 the food you eat, the tools you work with, all the fa- 
 cilities which you enjoy for work, rest, sleep, nurture, 
 
2 GO LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 travel, culture — how much of all this do you owe to 
 yourself? All that vast aggregate of utility, comfort 
 and power, all that mighty instrumentality of action 
 and enjoyment which we call civilization — all the cen- 
 turies and all the continents have made it, and it is at 
 your service. This marvel that we call the Present, 
 with its conquests of force, with its victories over 
 space and time — it is born of the travail of the ages, 
 of the rapture of countless triumphs, of the agony of 
 untold failures — and it is at your hand. Science has 
 searched out the deep things of nature, has disentombed 
 the memorials of the everlasting hills, has surprised the 
 secrets of the most distant stars, has mastered the pro- 
 cesses of earth's laboratory, and has thus multiplied 
 nature itself a hundredfold — and all for you. Art has 
 stolen the witchery of sky and sea, has captured the 
 myriad moods of mountain and valley, sunshine and 
 storm, and gathered them into her enchanted palace, 
 besides dreams and visions of her own, fairer than 
 aught seen on land or sea — all for you. Commerce 
 wafts, for your comfort or your need, treasures from the 
 rising and from the setting sun. Government insures 
 your person and your property against violence and 
 wrong. Schools provide for you opportunities for mas- 
 tering every form of knowledge, and for reaching every 
 benefit of culture. Books echo for you the thunder of 
 battles, and the silent struggles of thought. The com- 
 plex mass of personality, of life and character in the 
 world, radiates upon you influences of unspeakable im- 
 portance from every point at which you touch it. Social 
 institutions and agencies without number leave a thou- 
 sand traces of their beneficent activity across your 
 daily path. And in speaking of all these agencies which 
 have done so much for us, we are speaking, of course, 
 of men and women, in the past and present, who have 
 
 
SERMONS. 207 
 
 organized and used these instrumentalities for accomplish- 
 ing these results. Others have sowed — an innumer- 
 able company of toilers, and ye are entered into their 
 labors. Surely, in contemplating all that has been thus 
 received, no honest, manly heart can help feeling that 
 it rests under an indebtedness, the extent of which can 
 hardly be measured. 
 
 If then, we take no higher point of view than the 
 commercial, or the quid pro quo theory, it would still 
 remain that the best we can render to society is not too 
 much, simply as a return for what society or the world 
 has done for us. The citizen can not do too much for 
 the State in repayment of all that the State secures 
 for him. The most liberal contribution which the 
 scholar can make to the cause of education, will be but 
 an inadequate return for the educational benefits which 
 he found already provided for himself. The best that 
 any one can do in the way of scientific discovery, ar- 
 tistic creation, industrial or intellectual production, will 
 be none too great a recompense for the triumphs which 
 genius, skill and patience have achieved in his behalf. 
 The best that any one can be will not outweigh his ob- 
 ligations to the heroic lives and pure examples which 
 have shone out of the world upon him. The benefits 
 which the church, considered as a social agency simply, 
 has conferred, constitute a claim which a life of service 
 would but poorly repay. The debt which a man owes 
 to the home that nurtured him, he never can cancel. 
 He who owes to any influence a higher, better life, than 
 he would otherwise have reached — that man will die a 
 debtor. 
 
 2. But even this view, broad and suggestive as it is, 
 does not prepare us to estimate sufficiently the Chris- 
 tian's debt to the world. If we were to stop with this we 
 should be in danger for one thing, of resting as I said 
 
208 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 before, in a commercial, not to say a mercenary spirit. 
 We should be tempted to be eternally counting up our 
 obligations, striking the balance of our debit and credit, 
 and life would degenerate into a sordid process of wip- 
 ing off old scores. The effect of .all this would be un- 
 healthy, it would be narrowing and impoverishing, it 
 would tend to foster that selfishness, which measures its 
 service by its receipts, to chill that spontaneous disin- 
 terested magnanimity, which loves to do good, even 
 when nothing has been received, and when nothing can 
 be returned. Christianity summons us to a larger, 
 freer, nobler life, to a sublimer debtorship. 
 
 The rule of equivalents, moreover, strictly construed, 
 would make us partial in our service. It would put us 
 on that old Jewish platform, or rather, as we may call 
 it, that old platform of publicans and sinners, which 
 Christ condemned, when he said, — " If ye love them 
 which love you, what reward have ye ? Do not even 
 the publicans the same? If ye do good to them which 
 do good to you, what thanks have ye ? for sinners also 
 do even the same." If we seek to benefit only those 
 who benefit us, how about those who are of no use to 
 us ? If I am to live only for those who live for me, 
 what about the rest? You say, perhaps, let those who 
 get some good out of them repay them. Aye — but what 
 about the poor, worthless wretches, who are of no good 
 to me, nor to anybody else ? Is nobody their debtor ? 
 Is nothing due them? Hear what Paul says: "lam 
 debtor both to the Greeks." — Ah yes: we can all un- 
 derstand that ; the Greeks. They are the world's bene- 
 factors, they have enriched the world with a history, 
 the lessons of which are surpassed by those of no land's 
 history. They have given the world its greatest epic, 
 its sublimest tragedy, its profoundest and its acutest 
 philosophy, its most irresistible oratory, its most re- 
 
SERMONS. 2C9 
 
 markable political monuments. The Greeks : they have 
 produced the most exquisite sculpture, the most sym- 
 metrical architecture, the completest civic life, and the 
 most heroic type of character, which the world has 
 known. We are all debtors to the Greeks for Homer 
 and Pindar, for Aeschylus and Sophocles, for Pericles 
 and Demosthenes, for Plato and Aristotle, for Phidias 
 and Praxiteles. To them we owe the Parthenon, the 
 Apollo, the Areopagus, the democracy of Athens, the 
 oligarchy of Sparta, the empire of Macedonia, Ly- 
 curgus, Epaminondas, and Socrates — Thermopylae and 
 Salamis, and Marathon. Well may est thou say, O 
 Paul, that thou art a debtor to the Greeks — Nay, but 
 hear him — "I am debtor both to the Greeks and to the 
 Barbarians" — Aye — mark the word — "and to the Bar- 
 barians" — and by that word Paul means all that the 
 word means to us, and more — to the Greeks and to all 
 the world besides — to the Scythian and the Parthian — 
 to the wild Ishmaelite of the plain, whose hand is 
 against every man, and every man's hand against him — 
 to the savage islander who strips the wrecked mariner 
 of his all, — to the superstitious bushman, who crawls 
 before his fetich, — to the brutish dweller in caves, and 
 the outcast of Syrian Steppes, who ''embraces the rock 
 for want of a shelter," — to the lowest and most de- 
 graded pariah of the far East, spat upon by those who 
 are t themselves degraded: "I am debtor both to the 
 Greeks and to the Barbarians, both to the wise" — to 
 the lofty in intellect, the brilliant in imagination, the 
 sagacious in counsel, the accomplished in knowledge, 
 — "and to the unwise" — to the dull, the brute, the 
 fool, whom nobody cares for, whose life is more worth- 
 less than a weed, — Paul is that man's Debtor, and every 
 man's debtor, and the world's debtor, and you, my 
 
2IO LLEWEYLN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 brother, if your Christianity is the same as Paul's, are a 
 debtor to all the world. 
 
 What is your debt? As briefly as possible, let me 
 try to answer that question. I. You owe to the world 
 the best that you can be. You owe to it a holy, God- 
 like, character. The world has the right to require in 
 you the image of God, for that is what you were meant 
 to be. And the world has the right to ask of every- 
 thing that it should conform to the type after which it 
 was created, that it should realize the character and 
 the function which God's plan assigns to it. It has the 
 right to expect of the rose the properties of a rose, and 
 not of a thistle ; to demand that a diamond should be a 
 diamond, and not a bit of common glass. You are not 
 simply to exist in the world, you are to be the likeness 
 of the living God, a power in which God shall be felt, 
 a glory in which God shall be seen, a character in 
 which God shall be glorified. To be that, my brother, 
 is to be the best that you can be. It is to open every 
 part of your being to God — to be illuminated, ener- 
 gized, transfigured by the Divine Indwelling. The man 
 in whom God thus dwelleth, is an instrumentality by 
 which God works, a medium through which He com- 
 municates Himself to the world. His life is a Divine 
 influence. His personality is an Ark of the living God. 
 His character is a Shekinah. His presence is a bene- 
 diction. 
 
 2. You owe to the world the best of all that you 
 have. By this I mean the use, the fruit of all that 
 you have. You say, perhaps, that you need so much 
 of your property to support yourself and family, to 
 carry on your business, to furnish your home, to make 
 it attractive, refined and ennobling. So be it. But 
 remember that in using it for these necessary ends, you 
 are to use it with an ulterior view to the glory of God 
 
SERMONS. 211 
 
 and the good of the world. You need so much to 
 support yourself — very well, but why should you live ? 
 Is it simply that there may be one more name for the 
 census? You have your business to carry on — but 
 why? Is it merely that there may be one more firm 
 on the street? Why should you make your home 
 winning and happy? Is it only that you and your 
 household may have a better time in living ? All that 
 your property does for you, it should through you, do 
 for the world. All that your property does for your 
 home, it should through your home, do for other 
 homes and hearts. The enlarged power, culture, re- 
 finement, happiness, which your means of living pro- 
 cure for you, are to find their way beyond you into 
 the world of Greeks and Barbarians. They are not to 
 be swallowed up in that little circle of self, of which 
 you are the center; they are to spread into that circle 
 of humanity, of which God is the center. And beyond 
 what is thus needful for your present use, or future de- 
 pendence, all should be subject at all time and imme- 
 diately to God's drafts upon it for his needy, perishing 
 world. 
 
 Paul, to be sure, was a poor missionary, and when 
 necessary made tents for a living; but had he been as 
 rich as Solomon, we may be sure that holding out his 
 all toward the world, he would still have said: "I am 
 debtor both to the Greeks and to the Barbarians," and 
 he would have paid that debt too, like an honest 
 man. 
 
 3. You owe to the world the best of all that you 
 know. You live in a world where there is much to be 
 known, where knowledge crowns a man with dignity, 
 and his life with power. The pursuit of knowledge is 
 sweet, the possession of it brings satisfaction and 
 strength. But what, after all, is knowledge for ? Why 
 
212 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 should a man know? Simply to serve himself? That 
 is the use the Devil makes of his knowledge. Man 
 owes his knowledge. He should use it for others. 
 The more he knows, the more useful he should become ; 
 and in the best life, the desire to do good to others is 
 one of the strongest incentives to know more. Let 
 the man of the world seek knowledge simply as a 
 means of power, of pleasure, of fame ; the man of 
 God will seek it as a means of getting more of God 
 into himself, and of giving more of God to the world. 
 
 4. You owe the best of all your experience. I do 
 not mean that you should trumpet abroad every pass- 
 ing feeling, still less that you should proclaim from 
 the housetop, those most sacred and precious experi- 
 ences which can and should be known only to God — 
 and yourself. But throughout life's discipline, in every 
 teaching of Providence, and of its Spirit, in every feel- 
 ing wrought by Divine Truth in the soul, in every ex- 
 perience of God's grace in all his various dealings with 
 you, there is something which can and which should be 
 in some way communicated, some sweet flavor, at least 
 some ripe fruit of the same, of which others can be 
 made to partake. It were a crime to hoard it all up 
 within ; the world should in some way be made the 
 richer for it. Hear the pious Psalmist: "I have not 
 hid thy righteousness within my heart. I have de- 
 clared thy faithfulness and thy salvation. I have not 
 concealed thy loving kindness, and thy truth from the 
 great congregation." 
 
 5. You owe to the world the best of all you can do. 
 The rule is not — the best for yourself, and what is left 
 over for the world. No, no ! for yourself, once more, 
 only as means to an end, only that others may be 
 reached and blessed. The law of action, my brother, 
 is service. Have you ever thought that there is a 
 
SERMONS. 2 1 3 
 
 sense in which this is true, even of God ? God's ac- 
 tivity is a ministry. "The Son of Man came not to 
 be ministered unto, but to minister," and in His life, 
 the life of God reveals itself as one of service. "Who- 
 soever will be chief among you, let him be your serv- 
 ant, " and the God who is the Sovereign of all, He is 
 the Servant of all — yes — and it is with reverence I 
 would say it — the Great God to whom we owe every- 
 thing. He waits upon His universe, He ministers to 
 all His creatures, from the highest to the lowest, as 
 though He were their Debtor! What a lesson, my 
 brother, for you and for me ! Shall I, a poor, misera- 
 ble beggar, a pensioner on God's bounty, live to my- 
 self — live as though I owed nothing ? 
 
 6. To sum up all in regard to the substance of our 
 debt — we owe to the world Love. ' ' Owe no man 
 anything but to love one another," says Paul in an- 
 other place, and those words are a commentary on 
 these. In other words, owe no man anything, except 
 to owe every man everything. Let this be your only 
 debt, to owe your whole self to the whole world. For 
 to owe love is to owe all. A true Christian life is a 
 perpetual assignment. "God is Love." If man be 
 God's image, it should be equally true to say: et Man 
 is love." God is the Infinite Fountain of all good, 
 ever sending forth streams of blessing, and the life 
 which He gives is a life which springs up not only to 
 life everlasting for the possessor, but to good immortal 
 for others. Where the love of God is shed abroad in 
 the heart, it prompts man to will and to do for others 
 what God is willing and doing for them. And here we 
 strike upon the very heart of our subject. Here we 
 come upon the principle which not only explains Paul's 
 language, but which is the keynote of Christianity, the 
 very heart of Christ's life and work. 
 
214 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 For mark it, my brother, this debt of yours to the 
 world is not a sweet little touch of sentiment, not a 
 pretty figure of speech belonging to the poetry of 
 charity, romance, or benevolence, not even the more 
 earnest phrase of a genuine enthusiasm of humanity, of 
 a certain sort. Be not misled by the mere sound of 
 words. "The enthusiasm of humanity," "the service 
 of mankind," " the love of the race," yes, fine phrases, 
 all of them, no doubt ; and you have known something 
 perhaps of a dilettante Gospel of which they are the 
 Alpha and Omega. It has much to say, and it says 
 it beautifully and eloquently, of the Universal Father- 
 hood of God, of the universal brotherhood of man, the 
 sublimity of universal benevolence, the grandeur of 
 self-sacrifice, the beauty of the ministry of love. Its 
 saint, Abou Ben Adhem, if you please ; its creed, 
 that worthy's prayer : Write me as one that loves my 
 brother man. 
 
 Sweet and modest enough, no doubt. But ah ! sirs, 
 what is it to love your brother man ? to provide food 
 for his hunger and clothing for his nakedness? to teach 
 him the alphabet and a trade ? to give him a cottage, 
 and flowers, and chromos, and books, and periodic dis- 
 sertations on the Beautiful, and the Good, and the True ? 
 Well enough, doubtless, so far as it goes, but is that 
 all? Ah, ye friends of humanity, be assured that the 
 only definition of your own creed which is worth any- 
 thing, is that which is to be learned from the cross of 
 Jesus Christ. "Love ye one another as I have loved 
 you." " Bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfill 
 the law of Christ." The love which does not see in 
 man everywhere the lost one whom Christ has come 
 to save, which does not realize the exceeding sinfulness 
 of that sin which cost the agony of Gethsemane and 
 Calvary, the love in which regeneration is a fiction, 
 
SERMONS. 215 
 
 atonement a superstition, the wrath of God a myth, 
 the love which does not love God, the honor of God, 
 the justice of God, the character of God, the love 
 which does not seek to save man as God seeks to save 
 him, that love, be assured, is blind and helpless. 
 Genial and amiable it may be, but superficial and 
 powerless nevertheless. Go to the cross, and there 
 learn the world's want, learn the malignity of the curse 
 from which it is to be delivered, the depth of degrada- 
 tion from which it is to be rescued. " God, who is 
 rich in mercy, for his great love wherewith he loved 
 us, even when we were dead in sins, hath quickened 
 us together with Christ." "When we were enemies, 
 we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son." 
 Go to the cross, and there learn humanity's worth, in 
 the price paid for its redemption. "Ye were not 
 redeemed with corruptible things, as silver and gold, 
 but with the precious blood of Christ." Go to the 
 cross and there learn what it is to love the world in 
 the sacrifice which God made for its salvation. "God 
 so loved the world that he gave his only begotten 
 Son." "He that spared not his own Son, but delivered 
 him up for us all, how shall he not with him also 
 freely give us all things?" Go to the cross and there 
 learn the infinite obligation which is laid upon you, learn 
 what you owe to Him who loved you, and gave him- 
 self for you, learn to be crucified with Him who was 
 crucified for you, to crucify self, to crucify sin, to die 
 with Him to the world, that you may live with Him to 
 God. Go to the cross and there learn Christ's right to 
 the world. For in dying for it, Christ has made the 
 world His own. The Father has rewarded His humilia- 
 tion by crowning Him Lord of all, by giving Him the 
 nations for an inheritance, and the uttermost parts of 
 the earth for a possession. Here, and here only can 
 
2l6 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 you learn what your debt is. You owe Christ to the 
 world. You owe the world to Christ. You owe your- 
 self to Christ and to the world. That is your debt. 
 
 The world needs Christ, it needs His life, it needs 
 His truth, it needs His spirit, it needs His cross, and 
 you are to give Christ to the world, in your life, in 
 your character, in your words, in your service. 
 
 Christ wants the world. He wants it redeemed, 
 purified, perfected. He wants it as His own, His wit- 
 ness, His image, as the harvest of His tears and blood, 
 as the crown of His rejoicing, and to the utmost of 
 your ability you are to give the v/orld to Christ, to 
 save it for Him. 
 
 Christ wants you — your affections, your powers, your 
 property, your plans, your all for Himself — wants you 
 because He loves you, and because out of Him you can 
 do nothing. And the world wants you. It wants Christ 
 in you ; it wants the best you can be, and that is Christ 
 formed in you ; the best you can do, and that is Christ 
 working mightily in you ; the best that you know and 
 feel and have— and what is all this but Christ as the 
 center of your being, the motive power of your life, the 
 lord of your service ? Christ for the world — the world 
 for Christ — and yourself for the world and for Christ. 
 And when once you have realized Christ's claims on 
 yourself and on the world, all the rest will follow. To 
 seek to put Christ in possession of His own — that is to 
 be the world's debtor. The love of Christ — in that you 
 have the true love of humanity. He that truly loves 
 Christ will love with something of Christ's love those 
 for whom He died. This love is the Christian's debt, 
 and here we have : 
 
 That which explains the peculiarities of this debt, 
 (i) It explains its universality. God loves the world. 
 Christ died for all, and the Christian, like Paul, is a 
 
SERMONS. 217 
 
 debtor to all mankind. He loves, with a love born of 
 God's love, all whom God loves. He yearns for the sal- 
 vation of all for whom Christ died, with a longing 
 which has come into his heart out of the Savior's heart. 
 It is a love — and thus it is a debt — broad as the 
 world and deep as every want and woe of a lost hu- 
 manity. It reaches wherever the cross reaches. (2) 
 It explains again its freeness and disinterestedness. 
 This debt knows no constraint save that of Love Di- 
 vine. "The love of Christ constraineth us." There 
 is here no selfish counting of the cost. You do not 
 dole out your service. You do not weigh out your love 
 in scruples and grains. You are not afraid of going too 
 far, of paying too much. No ! ' ' freely ye have re- 
 ceived, freely give," that is the motto. You have re- 
 ceived infinitely ; you would, if it were in your power 
 repay infinitely, you can never do enough. Your lan- 
 guage is — 
 
 " Were the whole realm of nature mine, 
 That were a present far too small : 
 Love so amazing, so divine, 
 Demands my soul, my life, my all." 
 
 (3) For this same reason it is a debt which can not 
 be exhausted. Love's debt is never discharged. The 
 more it pays, the more it owes. Most of all is this 
 true of Christian love. As the love grows, the debt 
 grows. The more it is exercised, the stronger does the 
 love become, and the more irresistible the impulse by 
 which it is swayed. The more spiritual and Christlike 
 it grows, the more deeply does it realize the world's 
 necessities, and the more readily does it respond to the 
 claims of Christ and the world upon it. In a word, the 
 more it owes the more it gives, and the more it gives, 
 the greater is the debt ; and eternity will only add to 
 the sweet despair of ever being able to satisfy love's 
 
2l8 LLEWELYN 10 AN EVANS. 
 
 blest longing to give itself away. But why may not 
 the love itself fade away and perish ? Ah, my brother, 
 it is because it is exercised in and through and for 
 Christ. A love of humanity in the abstract, certainly 
 might perish. A mere sentimental benevolence might 
 and would wane away. A living love must have a Per- 
 sonal Inspiration, and that you will find only in Christ. 
 Apart from Him the love of humanity is as a branch 
 that is cast away and withers. But union with Christ 
 furnishes it with an unfailing inspiration. His personal 
 presence acts upon it with quickening and strengthen- 
 ing power. While He is near, while He dwells within, 
 the heart can not cease to love, to yearn for the lost, 
 to go forth in sympathy and to lavish itself on want 
 and w r oe. When He is within, then while there is good 
 to be done, while there is want to be relieved, while 
 there is a sin to save from, and a soul to be saved, nay, 
 while there is anyone or anything to love for Christ's sake, 
 and a channel for love to flow in — that love will be a 
 blessed reality. The spirit w r hich He imparts is no spas- 
 modic passion, no effervescing and transient sentiment. 
 It is unwasting, unwearying as Himself. (4) And here 
 you see finally, why this debt of love and service, as 
 it is never to be exhausted, as it is one which is ever 
 to grow, so it is one of which the Christian is never to 
 be ashamed. Ashamed of it ! Nay, he glories in it. 
 It is his chief honor. It was with a noble and holy 
 exultation that Paul exclaimed, " I am debtor both to 
 the Greeks and to the Barbarians, both to the wise and 
 to the unwise." There are debts which bring humilia- 
 tion and shame. They crush the spirit. They take 
 away all manliness. They are a blight on the life. But 
 the debt of which the Christian boasts expands and ex- 
 alts the soul. It is an inspiration. It stimulates every 
 power and purpose. It ennobles the life, gives man 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 219 
 
 the consciousness of an end in living worthy of the 
 highest capabilities and attainments of manhood. This 
 sense of a boundless and an endless obligation becomes 
 the power of a boundless and an endless life. This life for 
 Christ and for His world is a life of freedom, of joy, of 
 growth ; yes, of growth into the life of God, into the 
 Heart of Christ, into the power of the Holy Ghost. 
 
 And now, brethren of the Seminary, in discharging 
 the duty laid on me, of thus addressing you on this 
 first Sabbath of a new Seminary year, I hold up before 
 you this Debt, and urge you one and all to accept it 
 in all its greatness, in all that it costs, in all that it 
 offers, and to glory in it. I know of no better prepara- 
 tion for all of us in view of the work of the coming 
 year, than to be fully imbued with the spirit in which 
 the great Apostle of the Gentiles addressed himself to 
 the preparation of the master-piece of his life. It was 
 as the world's debtor that he wrote this wonderful 
 Epistle to the Romans, in which he reaches and unfolds 
 the heights and depths of the Gospel. As the world's 
 debtors I would that w r e might engage this year in our 
 work, whether it be teaching, or learning the heights 
 and depths of that same Gospel. We can surely be 
 actuated by no higher motive than the feeling which is 
 prompted by the recognition of that glorious, immeas- 
 urable, inexhaustible, inspiring obligation which we owe 
 to Christ and His world. 
 
 Do you ask yourself — why are you here? May I 
 not answer in a word by saying — it is to learn, as here 
 you may be helped in learning, how best you may 
 pay your debt to the world ; and be assured that 
 the more you realize its magnitude, its sacredness, its 
 blessedness, the more solicitous you will be to make 
 yourself worthy of it. Oh, my brother ! it is an honor 
 to owe this debt, it is a privilege with which earth has 
 
220 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 nothing to compare, to devote ourselves to the lifelong 
 payment of it, in its highest and purest form, but it is 
 an honor which should make us tremble, it is a priv- 
 ilege of which to be unworthy were the saddest of all 
 failures. Remember, then, to be worthy of it, you 
 can not be too holy. You can not be too earnest. You 
 can not be too diligent. You can not prepare yourself 
 too thoroughly for its demands upon you. You can 
 not afford to slight any opportunity, nor to decline any 
 instrumentality by which you may become thoroughly 
 furnished to discharge the obligation which God lays 
 upon you. There is no Key of Knoweldge, there is no 
 element of power, there is no perfection of mind, or 
 of heart, which you should not be anxious to possess. 
 You can not know too much of that Divine Truth 
 which you hope to impart to others in all its sources, 
 in all its relations, in all its developments, in all its 
 modes and application! You can not have too rich 
 and deep an experience of it in your own heart. You 
 can not be too bright and eloquent an illustration of it 
 in your own life. All that this Seminary can do for 
 you, all that your religious associations and activities 
 can do for you, all that your personal culture of mind 
 and heart can do for you, — let me say more, all that 
 God by His word can do for you, all that Christ by 
 His Spirit can do for you, while here — will be none too 
 much to qualify you to pay what you owe to Christ 
 and His world. If you owe yourself, then be all that 
 you can be. If you owe the Gospel, then let the Gos- 
 pel be a light filling your mind, a power filling your 
 heart. Christ claims you for His world at your best. 
 He claims the most and the best that you can be, the 
 most and the best that you can acquire, the most and 
 the best that you can do. May God so assist you in 
 fitting yourself for this service, that however short you 
 come at last of paying all you owe, it may at least be 
 said of you, "He hath done what he could." 
 
X. 
 
 ENDURANCE. 
 
 Proverbs 24 : 10. "If thou faint in the day of adversity, thy strength is small." 
 
 This proverb breathes throughout the spirit of an- 
 tiquity. This shows itself not so much in the spirit of 
 the proverb as in its form. The virtue of fortitude is 
 not distinctively antique, although greater prominence 
 was given to it in ancient than in modern morality. 
 The reason for this I apprehend to be two-fold. 
 First, the inferior development of the intellectual pow- 
 ers and resources of humanity. The increase of knowl- 
 edge, the progress which has been made in science and 
 art, the multiplication of activities, professions and 
 pursuits, in which skill,- cunning, foresight, calculating 
 combination, adaptation, invention, and other intellectual 
 powers might be exercised and embodied, has opened 
 new avenues of distinction, and presents new objects, 
 which men may aspire after. Before this intellectual 
 development took place, men sought to be respected 
 rather for the display of qualities which are inherent 
 in man's constitution, and which require only a strong 
 will and persistent application to bring out. The ten- 
 dency of modern civilization is perhaps to the other 
 extreme, to place less value on moral qualities, and 
 more on intellectual than they deserve. ' Another reason 
 for the greater prominence formerly assigned to fortitude 
 
 (221) 
 
222 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 is to be found in the narrower development of the moral 
 activities themselves. The moral life of men was not 
 altogether so broad of old. The social obligations were 
 not so universally felt. The claims of humanity were 
 not so clearly recognized. Men were more isolated than 
 now. The virtues held in highest repute were those of 
 man as an individual, standing alone, rather than those 
 of man as a member of the body social, bound up with 
 others. The spread of Christianity has brought into 
 clearer light our duties to others, and the claims of a 
 common brotherhood. It has stimulated the sympa- 
 thies, the outreaching affections, the charities, the 
 beneficent activities of men. Although Christianity 
 makes no change in a man's duties to himself, but rather 
 confirms them, although the independent or individual 
 virtues, those which belong to man as an independent 
 agent, are the same as before, the greater prominence 
 which it gives to the active, diffusive, communicative 
 powers of morality, have perhaps rendered less salient 
 its passive, self-supporting, and defensive powers. 
 
 God educates the individual by bringing first into 
 exercise the powers which are necessary to maintain an 
 independent existence and growth, the powers of self- 
 preservation, self-protection, self-development. Then 
 the social instincts are brought into exercise, those 
 which are necessary to the existence and wellbeing of 
 society. 
 
 The race is educated in the same way. The moral prin- 
 ciples first impressed on men have a more immediate 
 bearing on the individual. As the race makes progress 
 in these, other principles are urged with greater distinct- 
 ness, principles of a wider application, which without 
 displacing those first engrafted, tend to give greater 
 breadth as well as depth to the life. Observe, I do not 
 affirm that there is any morality antecedent to benevo- 
 
SERMONS. 223 
 
 lence. There can be no virtue without love ; love to God, 
 love to man. But although it is the nature of this love 
 to give, to impart, to lavish itself on others, it is not 
 inconsistent with the highest and most enlightened re- 
 gard for the interests of the individual. It does not 
 disparage the qualities which give grandeur, nobility, 
 strength to man as a unit. It might be easily shown 
 that as there can be no true greatness without love, nei- 
 ther can there be love of the highest order without a dis- 
 tinct consciousness of the elements of individual greatness. 
 We see these principles illustrated in the education 
 of the Jewish nation, which is a type of that of the 
 world. God had from the first proclaimed love to be 
 the great law of his Kingdom. At the same time he 
 circumscribed the nation within fixed bounds, which 
 separated it from the rest of the world. He impressed 
 upon it a strong instinct of national self-preservation. He 
 permitted the growth of tribal sympathies and local at- 
 tachments. And above all he encouraged the cultiva- 
 tion of those moral excellencies, those personal attributes 
 which clothe the possessor with a celestial nobility, 
 making him an object of admiring contemplation and of 
 conscious imitation. Hence the significance which at- 
 taches to the histories of individual men among the 
 Jews, as e. g. Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, David, 
 Daniel. Hence also, in the Epistle to the Hebrews, 
 which, whoever may have been its author, was con- 
 ceived in a genuine Hebrew spirit, we see the wonder- 
 ful and apt force of the Eleventh Chapter, where the 
 examples of departed Jewish worthies are chanted in a 
 most magnificent pean. In every one of those exam- 
 ples you will observe that the quality recommended is 
 individual strength, self-contained power, fortitude, un- 
 bending and unbreakable firmness of will in bearing, 
 enduring, and doing. 
 
224 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 And as God has never intended this virtue to be 
 superseded by Christianity, which sets aside nothing 
 that is noble, but confirms and energizes it rather, it 
 may not be amiss for us to look at it a little, and that, 
 if possible, in the old Hebrew spirit, enlightened how- 
 ever, let us pray that it may be, and enlarged by the 
 spirit of Christianity. 
 
 * ' If thou faint in the day of adversity, thy strength 
 is small." The truth here affirmed may be thus para- 
 phrased : If a man is overpowered by calamity, if he is 
 overmastered, made useless, if his manhood be laid 
 prostrate by misfortune, it is a sign of weakness. 
 
 I. It is not necessarily any evidence of a weak, de- 
 fective character, that a man is the victim of misfor- 
 tune. Undoubtedly there are calamities which are a 
 disgrace to him on whom they fall. Every calamity 
 which is the natural result of presumption, which is the 
 inevitable recoil of overbearing pride, which is the 
 bitter fruit of dishonesty, or treachery, which is the fall- 
 ing asunder of inward rottenness, which is the accumu- 
 lated and just retribution of baseness, hypocrisy, cruelty, 
 selfishness, is a brand of shame on him who bears it. 
 
 But all calamities are not the direct penalty of indi- 
 vidual transgression. We are so bound up, one with 
 another, our interests are so intermingled, that one is 
 seldom ruined without involving others with himself. 
 The sufferings and trials which the guilty bring down 
 on their own heads, must often overwhelm the inno- 
 cent too. 
 
 God has organized humanity in circles of wider or 
 narrower extent. One of these circles circumscribes the 
 nation. Another includes the family. Others embrace 
 the professional, the social, the political, the ecclesiast- 
 ical communities into which society is divided. What- 
 ever affects any one of these circles, affects most, 
 
SERMONS. 225 
 
 perhaps all who belong to it. Blessings are diffused, 
 curses are spread, through the same law. Men are tried 
 in their social feelings, in their natural affections, in the 
 hopes and desires which they cherish as citizens of a 
 nation, and as members of a civil or religious brother- 
 hood. 
 
 To some extent, indeed, individuals are responsible 
 for those general disasters which come on nations and 
 communities, on account of national crimes or social 
 sins. All who are directly implicated in them, or sustain 
 them, must be held legally accountable. God does 
 thus hold them. And when the responsibility and guilt 
 are thus distributed, they are just as real, and the pun- 
 ishment which overtakes them is just as disgraceful to 
 each sufferer as though he alone were guilty, and he 
 alone suffered. But where the calamity is part of a 
 general disciplinary system, as in the case of famine, 
 plague, war, or any general misfortune brought on by 
 the guilt of some, or of many perhaps, but not all of 
 the sufferers, it cannot be regarded as a reproach to all 
 alike. 
 
 2. Again, it is no evidence of weakness when men 
 show that they feel, and that keenly, their misfortunes. 
 
 Pain is a natural appointment, for the most part in- 
 voluntary and unavoidable. It depends on the nature 
 and function of the sensibilities with which we are en- 
 dowed, whether physical or spiritual. Moreover, the 
 measure and quality of the pain endured is an index to 
 the rank and excellence of the being by whom it is en- 
 dured. As we ascend in the scale of existence, the 
 sensibilities become finer and more acute. Man has 
 susceptibilities to pain which no inferior order of crea- 
 tures can have, and which are evidences of higher 
 capacity, both of attainment and enjoyment. 
 
 Among men, again, there is almost every grade of 
 
226 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 susceptibility. Some are comparatively obtuse, their 
 sensibilities are blunt, sheathed as it were in hard armor. 
 Others are highly sensitive, they have the most deli- 
 cate and exquisite susceptibility to pain. There is no 
 reason why they should restrain all exhibition of these, 
 more than of any other sensibilities. There is nothing 
 more improper or unmanly in letting the world know 
 how greatly we suffer, than in letting it know how 
 greatly we rejoice. It may be unmanly to be over- 
 mastered by grief, but it is no less unmanly to be 
 overmastered by joy. To be unmanned by anything is 
 unworthy of a man. For if to him has been given the 
 power of more exquisite feeling, to him has also been 
 given the power of a more rigid self-control. By a 
 beautiful law of compensation, those natures which are 
 most delicately sensitive, have in general the greatest 
 power of persistence, of patient, calm endurance. 
 Woman, whose sensibilities are constitutionally so 
 much more acute, not seldom displays a silent, uncom- 
 plaining fortitude, which astonishes the world. 
 
 This fortitude which accompanies deep sensibility, is 
 a different thing from that nerve, that nonchalance, that 
 "cold blood," {sang froid) as the French call it, with 
 which men of an iron nature look on danger or pain. 
 There is a physical imperturbability, a stoicism of the 
 nerves, which enables some to bear without wincing, 
 what w r ould make others faint outright. One can look 
 on firmly, and converse calmly, while his arm is sawed 
 off; another will barely survive the operation even with 
 chloroform or ether to aid him. Yet the latter may be 
 every whit as brave as the other. It is a difference of 
 organization, a difference between fine and coarse. But 
 let the pain be of that subtle, mysterious character 
 which comes on quietly, but irresistibly, as a shadow 
 which spreads like poison, working more and more 
 
SERMONS. 227 
 
 the bitterness of death, and the finer organization 
 will probably display greater power of resistance and 
 endurance than the coarser. One man will bear an 
 affliction that smites like the blow of a sledgehammer, 
 and yet break his heart under the dull monotony of a 
 pain which oppresses him like the gloom of a dungeon. 
 Another will become as one that is dead from the sharp 
 agony of a pain that cuts like a lancet into the flesh, 
 who will bear w r ith the fortitude of a Prometheus, the 
 slow torture of a sorrow, gnawing like a vulture at 
 his heart. 
 
 But to endure pain with patience and fortitude is one 
 thing; to try to seem perfectly indifferent to it, or 
 utterly unaffected by it, is another. The former is a 
 virtue ; the latter folly. Here is where the old stoic 
 philosophers erred, who otherwise said many wise 
 things, and did many noble things, and whose phi- 
 losophy was far superior to many of the shallow, butter- 
 fly speculations of their day. But they did not rightly 
 apprehend, as it was impossible for them, perhaps, 
 rightly to apprehend, without Divine Revelation, the 
 sacred significance of sorrow. They overlooked the 
 holy ministry of pain in chastening men; not in break- 
 ing down their spirits, but in humbling them. No man 
 is the same while he suffers, or after that he has suf- 
 fered, that he was before, and it is folly to pretend it. 
 I do not say that a man ought to parade his sorrows 
 before the world, to proclaim his grief in public places, 
 to lay bare his innermost heart to the careless gaze of 
 the multitude. There is in every deep sorrow much 
 that can not be told, which can not be brought to the 
 surface, which is too sacred for any eye but that of 
 God. There is a line in the depths of suffering below 
 which Divine Sympathy can alone descend. There is 
 not a depth to which that can not reach. It is not a deep 
 
2 28 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 nature that forgets what is due to the sacredness of sor- 
 row; but neither is it a weak nature that remembers 
 what is due to the power of sorrow. 
 
 3. Again : it is not a sign of weakness, if, when a man 
 is overtaken by calamity, he pauses for a time to con- 
 sider its nature, its cause, its probable consequences and 
 his own duty. There are some who regard it as an indi- 
 cation of strength, not to be impeded or delayed in their 
 course by any disaster, but to go on in the same direc- 
 tion, with the same urgency and pertinacity as before. 
 They are like a wild beast which, when it is hindered in 
 its course, dashes against the obstruction, butting ob- 
 stinately against it, without pausing to consider whether 
 it can be beaten down by opposition, or whether the 
 path which it is pursuing is the safest to be taken. 
 Obstacles and reverses may produce in a man one of 
 several results. They may either arouse a spirit of 
 stubborn doggedness, which, right or wrong, will not be 
 turned aside, which will plunge madly and blindly on- 
 ward from one disaster to another, or fume or chafe 
 itself to death against invincible difficulties, which is 
 the most insane result of all. Or they may generate 
 despair, and impel a man to throw up everything, and 
 to cry out that all is lost, without making any effort to 
 rally against misfortune, which is the weakest result of 
 all. Or they may produce irresolution, vacillation; 
 they may drive the man to be utterly at a loss what 
 to do next, which is also a sign of imbecility. Or 
 they may lead him to pause, to bethink himself, to 
 take his bearings and soundings, and to find out where 
 he is, and in what plight; to look backward and see 
 how he came where he now is ; and forward and see 
 how best to extricate himself; how much he must be 
 content to lose, and how much he can save, and what 
 he can afford to lose, and what he must save. This, as 
 
SERMONS. 229 
 
 it would be evidence of prudence, is also a sign of 
 strength. 
 
 There is, indeed, one course nobler and better yet; 
 i. e. y when, even before the calamity comes, one has 
 made up his mind what is best to be done, has fully 
 planned out his line of conduct, taken into considera- 
 tion the difficulties and the failures which may occur, 
 has anticipated and made provision for all possible re- 
 verses, when one has foreseen where the danger is 
 likely to break out, is ready for every emergency, and 
 is so completely master of himself and master of his 
 situation, that instead of being overwhelmed by disas- 
 ter, he emerges victorious over the past, strong in the 
 present, hopeful for the future. Indeed, there are sit- 
 uations when this is a man's only salvation, when, if he 
 is not prepared to act with the utmost promptness, he 
 is lost ! There are difficulties, dangers and disasters 
 ahead which can be foreseen, which a mind accustomed 
 to reason on general principles and laws will perceive 
 to be inevitable, against which it can, therefore, fortify 
 itself. 
 
 ' ' A prudent man foreseeth the evil and hideth him- 
 self, but the simple pass on and are punished." When 
 it can be thus foreseen one will be stronger, of course, 
 to meet it. But sometimes it breaks unexpectedly on 
 a community or an individual. Disaster overtakes them 
 unawares. And when that is the case, it is no proof of 
 weakness to pause in one's course to consider the situ- 
 ation, and to delay action not until it is too late, but 
 until the way becomes clear enough for the adoption of 
 some definite course. For men, governments, societies, 
 all bodies which act, must have a policy; that is to say, 
 they must have a distinct and clear understanding of 
 what they are about, and of the means employed to 
 bring about the results contemplated. They must act 
 
23O LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 from principles and not from shifting expediencies, if 
 they would succeed. 
 
 4. It is no proof of weakness for a man when admon- 
 ished by some decisive disaster that the course which 
 has been pursued in seeking any end is wrong, to aban- 
 don it and enter on a new course. 
 
 If the policy adopted to secure any object fairly and 
 utterly breaks down, showing that it can no longer be 
 relied on, wisdom dictates its abandonment. It is no 
 act of weakness to give up that which is weak. Of 
 course a plan which has been adopted thoughtfully, 
 candidly, conscientiously, which seems at the time the 
 best possible, deserves and should receive a fair trial. 
 But when it has been tried fairly, sufficiently, long 
 enough, and thoroughly enough, and has been found 
 wanting, it is anything but imbecility to throw it away, 
 saying, "No more of that." It is strength rather. It 
 is weakness not to do it. It is imbecility to cling to 
 old prejudices, to adhere to moth-eaten precedents, to 
 throw away golden opportunities, because to do other- 
 wise would require a little sacrifice of pride. This ob- 
 stinate adherence to prejudices, to certain policies with 
 which a man has identified himself, or with which a 
 party has identified itself, this stubborn persistence in 
 trying to do what experience shows abundantly can 
 not be done, or ought not to be done, recoils with ter- 
 rible effect upon the head of those who are guilty of it. 
 History is full of examples of the fatal consequences of 
 such folly. There has been no more fruitful source of 
 disaster than that moral cowardice which shrinks from 
 the confession, "I am wrong! I have acted foolishly!" 
 and turns over a new leaf. One of the noblest and 
 wisest things which a man or a people can do in time 
 of adversity is to make a frank, manly acknowledgment 
 of defeat, of failure, of grievous error; to accept the 
 
SERMONS. 231 
 
 humiliating fact with all its inevitable results, however 
 painful — not to make a maundering and silly parade of 
 it, for men should preserve their self-respect in advers- 
 ity — but to face it fearlessly, to probe it honestly, to own 
 it freely and then to gird themselves at once to retrieve 
 their failure, to turn their back on all which led to it, to 
 avoid in future, the errors of the past and by the wis- 
 dom and experience, as well as the humility and pa- 
 tience acquired through adversity, to work out a more 
 glorious destiny than if the failure had never befallen 
 them : that is wisdom : that is strength. 
 
 But let us consider briefly what it is to faint in the 
 day of adversity. And what are some of the signs of 
 weakness which adversity brings into prominence. 
 
 1 . It is a sign of weakness in adversity to lose faith 
 in God. 
 
 God is an everpresent reality. He is personally pres- 
 ent everywhere. His Providence is over all his works. 
 All the issue and results of life are included in his 
 plan. All the calamities and sufferings which visit the 
 human family are embraced in his purposes, and per- 
 mitted or ordained for their good. The greatest dis- 
 asters therefore ought not to take away our confidence 
 in him. Nothing must be allowed to rob the soul of 
 its faith in God. This faith is essential to our spiritual 
 life, just as God himself is essential to all life. It is in- 
 dispensable to all faithful activity in the service of God. 
 It is the true basis of that calmness, that peace which 
 should underlie every feeling and deed. Man cannot 
 afford to lose it therefore. It is true that the mind 
 may be stunned by the shocks of adversity, it may be 
 paralyzed by the lightning-stroke of calamity; it may 
 be bewildered by the confusion of a general wreck of 
 everything; and in this temporary paralysis, this pres- 
 ent bewilderment, it may be pressed by cruel doubts. 
 
232 LLEWELYN 10 AN EVANS. 
 
 But this condition must not be allowed to become per- 
 manent. God will allow no blow so heavy to fall on a 
 man as to crush him forever. He himself may desire to 
 try our faith, to test its truth and power; he may roll 
 heavy burdens on it; he may send the floods to beat 
 against it, and to sweep over it; but destroy it — quench 
 it — uproot it, that he never will. If it is swept away, 
 it is because it never had taken firm root. If it ever is 
 crushed, it is because it never had any true vitality. 
 If men settle down in unbelief, if they learn to doubt the 
 goodness of God, to distrust his power, to suspect his 
 willingness to hear prayer, and his readiness to answer 
 it, to regard him as a God afar off, — it is a weakness, 
 a guilty weakness, a sin; for every suck weakness, is 
 no misfortune merely, it is a crime; and if it deserves 
 pity, it deserves no less consideration. Beware of that 
 insidious device of an evil heart, which says of a sin, 
 "It is my infirmity!" and hopes thus to extenuate its 
 guilt, if not to escape punishment. It is a lying refuge, 
 which like every other, will be swept away. 
 
 2. It is a sign of weakness in adversity, secondly, 
 when men lose their faith in the right, in its present 
 obligations, and its ultimate success. 
 
 This indeed is involved in what has already been said 
 aboyt faith in God. No one can maintain his faith in 
 God, and lose his faith in the right. Nor can he maintain 
 his faith in the right, and lose his faith in God. If there 
 is a God, a Holy Being, who is of purer eyes than to 
 behold iniquity, and who cannot look on sin, who hates 
 impurity, and selfishness with infinite abhorrence, a Just 
 Being, whose purpose is immutable to punish the guilty 
 and to reward the innocent, and to secure the final 
 triumph of the right, and utter overthrow of the wrong, 
 an Almighty Being, whose Power is the willing minis- 
 ter of his Holiness, Justice and Love, and the sure 
 
SERMONS. 233 
 
 guarantee of the fulfillment of his will, why or how should 
 we lose faith in the immutable obligations and the cer- 
 tain success of the right? As surely as God reigns, 
 and as surely as the reign of God means the reign of all 
 which God approves and loves, and the downfall of all 
 which God disapproves and hates, so surely will the 
 right triumph over wrong. To doubt this is to doubt 
 God. To disbelieve this is atheism. 
 
 The most dangerous form of this unbelief is the 
 practical. There are very few indeed, if any, in our 
 days, who doubt the Reign of Right as a theory. The 
 dictates of reason are too unmistakable, the voice of 
 conscience is too potent to permit the denial of it. 
 But there is a practical disbelief of it, which, as it is 
 much easier to fall into it, is as much more insidious 
 and dangerous, yes fatal, in its consequences, as it is, 
 alas, more widespread. There are men in abundance, 
 who, while in theory they acknowledge the supremacy 
 of pure justice, will, notwithstanding, barter it for pres- 
 ent gain, and subordinate it to the claims of worldly 
 expediency. This is a crime, one of the highest mis- 
 demeanors in God's government, yea, it is of the very 
 essence of treason against God's throne. Every lover 
 of absolute right should revolt from it as the basest 
 infidelity to God. Every friend of justice in its integ- 
 rity, of justice as God desires to see it prevail in the 
 world, of justice, I say, and of right, which means that 
 which ought to be, that which God says must be, not 
 that which self-interest desires or expediency commands, 
 should spurn away from him every attempt to com- 
 promise truth with error, right with wrong, and to hold 
 the former in any sort of abeyance to the latter, as 
 treason to the King of Heaven and Earth. But there 
 are those who without any deliberate purpose to betray 
 the right, who, desiring perhaps to maintain it as far 
 
234 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 as seems to them' practicable, (which, however, is put- 
 ting the matter on a very slippery footing-, since, by 
 that which is practicable, most people seem to under- 
 stand that which is compatible with their own interests), 
 there are those who from such motives will under the 
 pressure of adversity allow themselves to swerve from 
 that inflexible allegiance to the right, and the just, and 
 the true, which God demands. But this also is a crime. 
 Call it weakness if you will, it is criminal weakness. 
 It carries its own condemnation, just as much as the 
 more calculating and devilish betrayal, of which others 
 are guilty. 
 
 I have already remarked, that when the ends sought 
 after are seen to be absolutely impracticable, or essen- 
 tially immoral and injurious, we are justified in aban- 
 doning them, nay, we are required to do it. It is 
 weakness to hold on to them. Also, that when the 
 means which have been adopted to secure a manifestly 
 just and noble end, fail entirely, and that from their 
 own inherent weakness, we are required to discard them 
 and try others. But when the ends are indisputably 
 high and worthy, and when the instrumentalities are both 
 righteous and efficient, to cast them away, just because 
 a temporary reverse occurs, which postpones fulfillment 
 of the end, and cripples the instrumentalities for a 
 season, is most deplorable weakness, is the breach of a 
 divine and heavenly trust. When we have a noble end 
 before us, and the right sort of means in our hands, 
 there is but one thing to be done — to go on, and to go 
 on until the end is gained. If we lose our way, let us 
 try to find it as soon as we can, and then go on again. 
 If we find unforeseen obstacles, let us bring all the 
 power that we can to remove them out of the way, and 
 then go on again. If the enemy is thicker on the way 
 and all around us than we had anticipated, let us mul- 
 
SERMONS. 235 
 
 tiply our powers and resources, let us be a little more 
 watchful and determined, and still go on. If the road 
 is longer to the goal than we had deemed it to be, let 
 us be a little more patient, but let us still go on. If 
 the path is rougher than we thought it was, let us take 
 a little more time to it, but all the time let us go on. 
 If we fall down, let us get up and go on again. If we 
 are more badly hurt than we thought at first, let us do 
 our best cheerfully to get over it, and then go on again. 
 If it costs us more than we reckoned upon, let us make 
 up our minds to the sacrifice, and then go on. The 
 question of questions is, are we in the right way? Is 
 the right before us? Is justice our Guide? Is truth 
 our Leader? Is God the pillar of light which we fol- 
 low? 
 
 If we are sure of that, and there is no reason why 
 we should not be, let us onward. On, and on, and 
 on, while the Right keeps moving. When that stops, 
 we may stop too; not before. When the end is 
 gained, we may rest; no sooner. When God bids us 
 halt, we may do so, but the order is not yet. When 
 the banner of righteousness is furled, we may go to 
 sleep. When it is stricken down, never to be raised 
 again, we may throw away our arms and return from 
 the warfare. But that is never to be. If men's hands 
 should fail to bear it up, angels' hands will seize it. If 
 one after another they should let it fall, God's own hand 
 will raise it, and his hand must fail ere it be made to 
 trail the dust. Nay, it must never be abandoned. No ! 
 not for a moment. Right must always and forever be 
 maintained — followed to the grave and into it ; clung 
 to until death. Up with the standard! If one stand- 
 ard-bearer falls, let another rush to his place; if he 
 falls, let another seize it. 
 
 Let it be held up against a tempest of fire, against the 
 
236 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 crashing hail of earth and hell's artillery ; let it be fol- 
 lowed through flood and flame. It is never more 
 worthy of our devotion than when the storm of battle 
 rages around it, than when it is tried, or rather when 
 we are tried in supporting it. 
 
XI. 
 
 A THANKSGIVING SERMON. 
 
 Isaiah 51 : 9-15. " Awake, awake, put on strength, O arm of the Lord ; awake as in 
 the ancient days, in the generations of old. Art thou not it that hath cut Rahab 
 and wounded the dragon ? 
 
 Art thou not it that hath dried the sea, the waters of the great deep; that hath 
 made the depths of the sea a way for the ransomed to pass over ? 
 
 Therefore the redeemed of the Lord shall return, and come with singing unto 
 Zion ; and everlasting joy shall be upon their head : they shall obtain gladness and 
 joy ; and sorrow and mourning shall flee away. 
 
 I, even I, am he that comforteth you : who art thou, that thou shouldest be 
 afraid of a man that shall die, and of the son of man that shall be made as grass ; 
 And forgettest the Lord thy maker, that hath stretched forth the heavens, and laid 
 the foundations of the earth; and hast feared continually every day, because of 
 the fury of the oppressor, as if he were ready to destroy ? And where is the fury 
 of the oppressor? 
 
 The captive exile hasteneth that he may be loosed, and that he should not die in 
 the pit, nor that his bread should fail. 
 
 But I am the Lord thy God, that divided the sea, whose waves roared: 
 
 The Lord of hosts is his name." 
 
 Nothing strikes us more forcibly in these old writ- 
 ings, in these prophecies, poems and historical records, 
 which make up our Sacred Book, than the deep, in- 
 tense, ever present consciousness, which pervades them, 
 of an all-surrounding, all-embracing, all-inspiring, Infi- 
 nite, Personal Presence, whose glory overshadows, whose 
 Power sustains, whose Spirit quickens, whose love fills 
 all things. It is this same sense, this living realization 
 of God which, above all else, is needful to-day, that 
 our gratitude may be deep, pure and abounding. We 
 hear much said in these days of "the Logic of Events," 
 "the Genius of History," "Social Forces," "the hand 
 of Destiny." I am not disposed to question about the 
 occasional use of such terms. Like the phrases, "Laws 
 of Nature," "Physical Forces," they are often conveni- 
 
 ( 2 37) 
 
238 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 ent and expressive. Nor is the fact that they are the 
 pet expressions of men who disbelieve in a Personal 
 God, who deny an intelligent, over-ruling Providence, 
 of itself a decisive objection to their use. Only let us 
 not be blinded. As philosophers, speculating in ab- 
 stract ideas, there is no objection to the use of general 
 terms, as symbols of certain facts. As poets, thinking 
 in metaphors or in allegories, there is no objection to 
 the use of figurative expressions, as images of certain 
 realities. But as earnest, thoughtful, religious men, de- 
 sirous to know the truth, yearning to see into the deep, 
 inner facts of being, anxious to discover our obligations 
 as subjects of the King of Kings, we had better dispense 
 with abstractions and figures, and speak in the simple 
 utterances of a pious heart. To-day, as we seek to re- 
 alize our obligations to Him who has made us, blessed 
 us, and brought us where we now stand to-day, we 
 must have something else to talk about than Logic 
 and Laws. 
 
 In this world of sin, temptation, trial, we need all the 
 motives which have any power to impel us toward God. 
 Of these, gratitude is at once one of the strongest and 
 most elevated. Henry Rogers has called attention to 
 the fact that this is the great instrumental feeling which 
 Christianity employs in restoring man to God ; and he 
 observes that gratitude for past good is a stronger mo- 
 tive than the hope of future good can possibly be. Now, 
 gratitude is possible only in view of personal benefi- 
 cence. You can not manifest gratitude towards any 
 impersonal thing or force. The tree which bears nu- 
 tritious and delightful fruit, the fountain which sends 
 forth pure and refreshing waters, the sun which radiates 
 light, each is a benefactor and its benefactions are in- 
 valuable, but they excite no gratitude. It is the same 
 with a force or a law. The law which produces the 
 
 
SERMONS. ' 239 
 
 succession of seasons is a most beneficent law, but 
 no one thinks of thanking it. No shipwrecked mari- 
 ner, saved by clinging to a floating plank, or by swim- 
 ming ashore, dreams of returning praise to the Law 
 of Specific Gravity, although he owes his life to it. No 
 people delivered from oppression, or victorious over 
 their enemies, have been known to erect temples or al- 
 tars, or votive tablets to the Logic of Events. But let 
 men, who have been delivered from some great calam- 
 ity, or visited by some benediction of Providence, be 
 told, ' ' It was God who saved you : It was God who 
 visited you !" and let them feel that it was indeed God, 
 and gratitude, reverence and love will flow forth as 
 spontaneously as song from a cheerful heart. In all 
 the benefactions, therefore, which as a people we enjoy 
 to-day, in all the reasons for gratitude, which we are 
 about to consider, let us seek to discern the gentle and 
 Opulent Hand, the warm, living, loving Heart of our 
 ever near, ever gracious Father. The great, central 
 theme of gratitude which I would present to-day is 
 Progress, the growth of the American Nation as the re- 
 sult of our National trial, that growth as indicated by 
 our present condition and character, compared with our 
 condition and character at the time when our trial 
 began. 
 
 And first of all, and as lying at the very root of our 
 national growth, I would mention the progress which 
 has been made in the feeling of nationality, in the 
 sense of our responsibility to maintain our national life. 
 This fact of nationality has indeed been doubted. But 
 this was in itself a terrible witness to the truth that 
 whether or not we are one nation, at least we ought to 
 be one. The mournful spectacle here exhibited to the 
 world, of two large sections of a continent, separated 
 by no frowning and impassable barriers, subject to no 
 
240 LLEWELYN I0AN EVANS. 
 
 such differences of climate and production of physical 
 resources and conditions, as would necessitate their 
 population by distinct races of men, but bound together 
 rather by links subtle as air or dew, and yet strong as 
 the everlasting mountains, — the spectacle of two people, 
 two for the time being, speaking the same language, 
 sprung from a common ancestry, long subject to the 
 same government, identified in their main interests and 
 pursuits, possessed essentially of the same physical and 
 mental characteristics, nurtured by the same literature, 
 science, art, religion, — the spectacle of two such peo- 
 ple, making deadly war on each other, putting in the 
 field armies, which for magnitude and military equip- 
 ment have never been equalled, such a spectacle is itself 
 a most overwhelming argument that there ought to be 
 here but one American nation, that the interests of 
 peace, of humanity, and of progress demand that there 
 should be but one. For if a war so vast, so fierce, so 
 desolating, could arise once within the limits of the 
 same national fold, what must be the horrors of the 
 continuous and inevitable wars which must arise be- 
 tween two distinct nations, occupying the same relative 
 positions, each more numerous, more powerful, better 
 prepared for war, than was either section at the outset 
 of this contest, as would certainly be the case in a few 
 generations, by the simple force of progress? But the 
 same witness testifies that there is a nation here, that 
 there is also a clear recognition of the necessity of 
 national union, that there is in some degree the spirit 
 of a just national pride, and of a broad national love, 
 that there is a God's voice in the heart of the people — 
 we must be one and indivisible. 
 
 Some have agreed that the secession from the Union 
 of so many States, the demand for separation of so 
 many millions, the contribution of so much money and 
 
SERMONS. 241 
 
 treasure, and the levying of such large armies to en- 
 force separation, and the bitterness and fierce determi- 
 nation with which that object is pursued, are proof 
 positive that the nation has been divided, that hence- 
 forth we must be two. — By the same process it may 
 be argued, and yet more justly and powerfully, that the 
 contrary voice of a great majority of the people, the 
 decision of more than twice as many millions that the 
 nation is one, their determination that it shall not be 
 divided, the contribution of vaster sums of money, and 
 the raising of larger armies to maintain the unity of the 
 nation, are proof positive and irrefragable that we are 
 one, and that no schemes of designing men, no con- 
 spiracies of a spurious and corrupt aristocracy, built up 
 on the enslavement of men, no temporary madness on 
 the part of deluded multitudes, led astray by ignorance 
 and inflamed prejudice, shall be allowed to put asunder 
 what God has joined together. Never since the time 
 when this nation first asserted and established its inde- 
 pendence, never since the days when the Father of his 
 country addressed to the people those noble and pres-- 
 cient words of warning in which he portrayed the evils 
 of dissolution, never certainly during these later years 
 of political deterioration — during which the nation's pride 
 seemed to slumber, while " Union" had fallen to be the 
 watchword of scheming men, a veil behind which they 
 concocted plots against Union and Liberty — has the 
 idea, the fact of nationality shone forth in these United 
 States with more majestic glory than since this great 
 reawakening of the nation to a sense of its honor and 
 its right. Not only has the war revealed and proved 
 this nationality, it has enlarged and exalted it, given it 
 intelligence, consistency and strength. The assertion 
 which has been made of the principle, the clearness 
 with which the necessity of the fact has been demon- 
 
242 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 strated, the sacrifices which have been made to sustain 
 it, have endeared it more than ever to all hearts, and 
 given it a hold upon them, such as it "never had before. 
 Never since its birth has the American nation been 
 more truly a nation than it is to-day. 
 
 But how was it when this trial was sent upon us? 
 Was this sense of nationality always as deep and un- 
 compromising as it has now become? Let me ask you, 
 have you always felt the same assurance of the fact, 
 and the same confidence in the reality of this national 
 life as you now feel? Look back a little, and see: 
 not to the time when the Union of the States was the 
 dream of a dozing and lethargic peace, or the cant of 
 demagogues, but to those later and darker hours that 
 have passed since the thunder which smote on Sumter 
 first startled us out of our dreams, to those terrible 
 crises during which the faith of the nation has been so 
 severely tried: — Ah! do you not remember how at the 
 first outbreak of the rebellion, when State after State 
 was passing its ordinance of secession, and when a fee- 
 ble and faithless administration took no measures to 
 stay the plague, but ministered to it the rather, men 
 looked with pale fear into each other's faces, as the fate 
 of the nation hung trembling in the balance, trembling, 
 because so rampant and defiant was treason, that it was 
 doubtful whether the nation had enough patriotism left to 
 strike treason a blow that might send it reeling to its lair? 
 Do you not remember how, yet later, after the nation 
 had been committed to war, after it had drawn the 
 sword to maintain its sovereignty, after the thunder of 
 a thousand cannon had proclaimed that armed rebellion 
 must be crushed by the nation's strong right arm, after 
 tens of thousands of the noblest and bravest of our 
 brethren had sealed that declaration with their blood, — 
 how that, after all this, scarcely one year ago, the same 
 
 
SERMONS. 243 
 
 cruel doubt returned, the same anxious questioning: 
 Is there enough of pure patriotism to carry this war 
 through? and how that it seemed once again as though 
 we must answer, No ! Treason is stronger than Loyalty, 
 and more cunning than Loyalty is wise; there is not 
 enough of the spirit and love of country to save the 
 nation ! Strange that it should have been so, and no 
 less mournful than strange ! For who does not know 
 that in all lands, in all ages, among all tribes and 
 kindreds, and tongues, the instinct of nationality, the 
 love of country, the sentiment of loyalty, has been 
 recognized, as one of the most profound, one of the 
 most commanding, one of the most exalted principles 
 of a nation? Philosophers have loved to praise it; 
 poets have loved to sing it; historians have loved to 
 describe it; heroes have loved to die for it. It has 
 been the soul of many of the most honorable achieve- 
 ments of courage and endurance recorded in history; 
 it has been the moving power in many of the no- 
 blest movements by which the progress of the race 
 has been furthered ; it has been the inspiration of 
 many of the loftiest strains of eloquence, of the 
 grandest deeds of daring and self-sacrifice which the 
 world has ever known. First our God ! next our 
 Country ! Such has been the battle-cry of hero-souls 
 in every age. How, then, came it to pass, that in this 
 land so highly favored, in this American heart, with its 
 many just, brave, and generous instincts, in this Amer- 
 ican nation, possessed of so many of the highest and 
 most promising attributes of national life and glory, 
 the privilege of a nation to claim the undivided alle- 
 giance of all, should have been not only doubted, but 
 denied ; that here there should have been found in some 
 quarters, a haughty, fierce, and disdainful rejection of 
 national obligations, and in others but a cold, heartless, 
 
244 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 scarcely concealed indifference to the same ? What have 
 been the causes of this debasement of national feeling? 
 First of all, and most radical of all, the spirit of worid- 
 liness, selfishness, materialism which has grown up to 
 such strength and magnitude all over the land, which 
 had subordinated everything to itself, which was dis- 
 posed to sacrifice every interest, principle, and respon- 
 sibility to its own requirements, which compelled all 
 considerations of public justice and morality to yield to 
 the claims of self-interest. 
 
 Secondly : the corrupting, destructive spirit of slav- 
 ery, which, actuated by an ambition that can only be 
 characterized as infernal, and finding in the prevalent 
 spirit of materialism a convenient and willing instru- 
 ment to serve its ends, succeeded by its haughty in- 
 solence, its overweening pride of power, its despotic 
 sway over timid, time-serving, self-seeking men and 
 parties, its dangerous sophistries and enervating false- 
 hoods in politics, morals, and religion, in producing 
 sectional alienation and strife, a spirit of insubordination 
 against rightful authority, a disregard of sacred, civil 
 and moral obligations, the systematic corruption of 
 public men, the prostitution of official power to its 
 ambitious schemes, the poisoning of public sentiment, 
 a widespread apostasy from the principles and policy 
 of the founders of the Republic, a mournful departure 
 from the spirit which gave birth to the nation, and the 
 loss of that respect for manhood, and of that generous 
 conception of liberty, which is the very soul of life to 
 a republic. Lastly: the baneful influence of a false 
 idea of loyalty, invented by a sagacity which can only 
 be characterized as satanic, which, foreseeing the time 
 when the antagonism of liberty and slavery must issue, 
 if not in the total subjugation of one, then in their 
 separation, cunningly prepared for that separation by 
 
 
SERMONS. 245 
 
 the diligent inculcation of the theory of State Sover- 
 eignty, of the right of each State to the supreme alle- 
 giance of its citizens, a theory utterly subversive of all 
 true nationality, and wholly fatal to that higher loyalty, 
 which rising above all territorial limitations and all sec- 
 ondary jurisdictions, reaches upward to that grand, 
 dominant, primary Sovereignty, which embraces all 
 that is signified in the word Nation, which is co-ordi- 
 nate and co-extensive with all that an American should 
 mean, with all that every true American does mean, 
 when he says, My Country. 
 
 And now, to what a fearful extent these causes com- 
 bined had enfeebled, and all but destroyed the spirit 
 of nationality, let this war testify. How widely spread, 
 and how powerful that fatal heresy which has carried 
 out of the Union one-third of the States which com- 
 posed it. How many a noble spirit, a Zollicoffer, a 
 Johnson, a Jackson, has been seduced by it from his 
 lawful allegiance, and led into the dishonored grave of a 
 traitor. What embarrassments has the same fallacy, 
 perverting the public sentiment of our own North, 
 thrown in the- way of the Government in the successful 
 suppression of the revolt, what hindrances it has occa- 
 sioned, what vacillation, what delays ! And worse than 
 all, and most shameful of all, how deeply and widely 
 had the foul and fatal virus of Slavery tainted the body 
 politic, and paralyzed whatever was sound and healthy 
 therein, when such a war as this, for such a cause, had 
 become possible. What a sad and terrible confession 
 to make, that in this government calling itself free, 
 claiming to be the example and champion of liberty 
 among the nations of the earth, founded in the declar- 
 ation, that all men who bear the image of God are 
 created free, created each with the inalienable right 
 to himself, a right in which he is the equal of all 
 
246 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 others, that in this model republic, where every throb 
 of the nation's brain should be liberty, where every 
 throb of the nation's heart should be liberty, where ev- 
 ery tramp of the nation's footsteps should sound forth 
 liberty, that here should have existed a purpose so foul, 
 so fell, so damning, to stamp forever on the national es- 
 cutcheon the black stain of slavery; that here should 
 have been hatched a conspiracy so extensive and powerful 
 as to consummate that nefarious design at the cost of war 
 and disruption, that this monster curse should have 
 been caressed and nurtured, until in the pride of its 
 strength and the wildness of its passion, it should seize 
 on the nation's heart and seek to crush out its life, so 
 that it requires the utmost straining of the nation's 
 energies to shake it off, and dash it to destruction ! 
 
 What a mournful evidence of the poverty into which 
 the spirit of nationality among us had sunk, that when 
 the question had become ; Which shall perish, the Nation 
 or Human Slavery? there should have been found, not 
 millions, not even thousands, but any, to say, " Let the 
 nation be rent in twain, sooner than that a being, made 
 in the image of God, should have the brand of a chattel 
 taken from his brow! Let the nation be overthrown 
 from top-stone to corner-stone, sooner than that a free 
 spirit, endowed with the heritage of immortality, should 
 have its fetters burst ! Let the nation's life be extin- 
 guished in an ocean of blood, sooner than that a system 
 which makes man a brute, which annuls the sacredness 
 of marriage, which makes motherhood a mockery, 
 which makes merchandise of God's children, which 
 buys and sells Jesus Christ in the market-place, for it 
 buys and sells his brethren, should even be impaired!" 
 
 My countrymen ! had it been a system fraught with 
 physical, intellectual, and social advantages to the in- 
 habitants of this Continent, which had come into an- 
 

 SERMONS. 247 
 
 tagonism with the perpetuity of this nation, had it 
 been an institution transmitted for generations from 
 fathers to children, fragrant with patriarchal benedic- 
 tions, sweet with sacred memories of the " storied past" 
 clustering about it, endeared with the hallowed associa- 
 tions of names embalmed in a nation's reverence, con- 
 secrated by the tear-baptisms, and the prayer-baptisms 
 of ages, there ought still to have been a spirit of 
 nationality in this people, strong, brave, and stern 
 enough to say, Before The Nation be allowed to wreck 
 itself on that, let it be mined and blown into a myriad 
 atoms ! But that when the life of a nation was put in 
 peril by an institution, branded with the curse of Cain, 
 infamous with the scorn of ages, sentenced to crouch 
 like a leper outside of the gates of Christendom, be- 
 smeared like the idol Moloch by the blood of men, 
 women, and children, wrung out of them by the sting 
 of the lash, and the fang of the blood-hound, vocal 
 with the groans of a scourged, a tortured, an outraged 
 humanity, yea, vocal with groans never heard on earth, 
 audible only to the ears of a God of Infinite Justice, the 
 groans which would have been uttered, had not the man- 
 hood of the victims been benumbed, paralyzed, crushed, 
 blighted with a curse worse than death,— that then the 
 question should have been raised even, in a land calling 
 itself free, in a land calling itself Christian : which shall 
 live, The Nation or The Curse ? that when it was raised, 
 there should have been found multitudes, not only in 
 those States which gloried in the shame of human bond- 
 age, but in States calling themselves free, and which 
 were free indeed from the immediate presence of the 
 evil, although not from its curse, — multitudes ready to 
 say, Perish the Nation, but let Slavery live !— this was 
 a sight most astounding, most shameful, most humili- 
 ating ! But, God be praised ! to-day the shame is at 
 
248 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 least felt; the humiliation has issued, we trust, in hu- 
 mility and repentance ; the retribution which has over- 
 taken us is felt to be just ; the punishment which God 
 is inflicting on us has been mercifully over-ruled to the 
 re-awakening of the nation's conscience, and of the 
 nation's life. We shudder as we think how near we 
 came to the betraying of the Divine trust committed to 
 us. For we have learned, and the fires of war have 
 burned the conviction into our souls, that a nation's 
 life is a trust as sacred as that of the individual, not 
 to say, more sacred. Woe be to the nation which 
 does not realize the worth of its life, which becomes 
 indifferent to its mission, which abdicates its God-given 
 prerogatives ! Woe be to the nation, which, by its 
 effeminacy, its luxury, its folly, its corruption, becomes 
 incapable of sustaining its claims to be a member of 
 God's family of nations ! Woe be to the nation, which 
 dies by its own hand ! Such nations there have been 
 in the world. Their corpses lie on its highway to-day. 
 The curse of heaven lies on the shrunken, blighted, 
 bedwarfed, inane phantasms which represent them. 
 They were guilty of self-murder ; and the suicide among 
 nations is a criminal in the sight of God, no less than 
 the suicide among men. Who can doubt that were 
 this nation to consent to its disruption, the curse of 
 the crime would rest on its fragments ? 
 
 Will any one pretend that the disintegration of this 
 republic into diverse confederacies and sovereignties, 
 would not impair the essential nationality of the peo- 
 ple, any more than a diversity of governments has 
 obliterated the German nationality or the Italian? But 
 who does not know, that where, as among the Ger- 
 mans and Italians, there is a real underlying basis of 
 nationality, the irresistible tendency is toward unity, 
 and that all present division is regarded as a calamity? 
 
 
SERMONS. 249 
 
 Or will any one say, that it is a fallacy to assume that 
 we are but one nation, that in reality we are already 
 two, and that the success of the rebellion would be 
 only the logical and historical development of that 
 which already lies in the nature of things? A greater 
 fallacy than that, or one whose absurdity were more 
 ridiculous, if its malignity did not make it odious, it is 
 difficult to conceive. When we behold the continent — 
 home of the nation, veined as it is with rivers, and 
 ribbed with mountain-ridges, w r hich, reaching from the 
 winter to the summer zone, speak of no Northern 
 nation and no Southern, but only of one American na- 
 tion — When we look at our past history as a people, 
 our education in one grand world-school, our fraternal 
 intercourse and commingling, which has been going on 
 now for two centuries without a suspicion of diverse 
 nationalisms having been entertained for a moment, 
 until of late the interests of Slavery had made the 
 fiction necessary — When we consider the futility of all 
 the arguments employed to prove the existence of an- 
 tagonistic nationalities, arguments, which, if they have 
 any force, w r ould split up and splinter every people on 
 the face of the globe — When to all this we add the 
 prospect which presents itself, if two or more nation- 
 alities be allowed, alike and nearly equal in intelli- 
 gence, prowess, wealth, energy and independence, 
 especially if, at the same time, unlike and divergent in 
 their social system, their political aspirations, their 
 national aims, in any of those points which would alone 
 necessitate or justify their division, the prospect of 
 collisions, jealousies, misunderstandings, enmities and 
 incessant wars — When we contemplate all this, the 
 idea that God has made us two, or many, or that it is 
 his desire that we should become two, or many, is both 
 incredible, and repulsive. God forgive us that the con- 
 
250 LLEWELYN IO'AN EVANS. 
 
 viction of this was too feeble to prevent even the 
 outbreak of a war so gigantic and calamitous ; but God 
 also be praised that this very war has so deepened and 
 strengthened that conviction, that hereafter, when the 
 supremacy of our nationality shall have been triumph- 
 antly maintained, any other attempt to overthrow it 
 will be for ages, yea, we devoutly believe, forever 
 an impossibility. Let all the people thank the Most 
 High, that to-day, as never before, to-day, notwith- 
 standing the prevalence of civil war, the nation is a 
 reality; that henceforth, no such phantom as a Virgin- 
 ian nationality, or a Carolinian, or a Georgian, shall be 
 allowed for a moment to eclipse this great, bright, solar 
 fact of the American nationality, destined to become 
 an even brighter and more blessed reality, to illuminate 
 and bless this earth ; that henceforth it will be the rec- 
 ognized and solemn duty of all American citizens to 
 cherish and cultivate to greater intensity and purity, the 
 love of country, to bring into clearer and fuller light 
 the consciousness of our nationality, to guard with 
 more sacred jealousy that oneness of destiny and of 
 glory, which God has given to be our inheritance. 
 
 But we have a still further cause of gratitude in the 
 fact, that not only has progress been made in the feeling 
 of nationality, but that the Divine idea of that nationality 
 is more clearly understood, more universally recog- 
 nized, and more faithfully carried out than perhaps ever 
 before. 
 
 Assuming it as established that God has given us a 
 nationality, the question arises, why ? To what end ? 
 There is a national as well as a personal individuality, 
 distinctly impressed by the power of God. National 
 organisms have their part to perform in the develop- 
 ment of the world, as personal organisms have in the 
 development of nations. And without attempting to 
 
SERMONS. 251 
 
 press the analogy too far, or to indulge in over-refine- 
 ment of speculation, it may safely be assumed, for all 
 history shows it to be true, that the leading nationali- 
 ties of earth, those which exert a controling influence 
 in the world's development, have a distinct and import- 
 ant mission entrusted to each by God. Thus, to Greece 
 was assigned the mission of asserting the supremacy 
 of mind over matter, of intellectual over brute force, 
 of science and art over animalism m and barbarism. 
 To Rome was assigned the mission of asserting the 
 superiority of intelligent self-controling will, of discip- 
 lined and consolidated civilization, involving the supre- 
 macy of law, and the subordination of the one to the all, 
 whether over the intelligent, undisciplined energy of 
 barbarism, or over the more effeminate civilization, the 
 frivolous culture without energy, the intelligence with- 
 out will, the self-assertion without self-restraint of de- 
 generate Greece. To the Saracen it was given to put 
 forth the dignity and power of simple faith, its supre- 
 macy over the blind superstition of oriental heathenism, 
 over the enervate intellectualism of Greece, or even over 
 the more disciplined and practical, but latterly the less 
 spiritual and earnest power of Rome. Whenever any 
 nation proves false to the Divine Idea entrusted to it, 
 God prepares its fall. 
 
 Thus, when Greece forgot its misson, and made the 
 intellectual serve the physical, when culture became 
 the slave of sense, when science became sophistry, and 
 art the handmaid of luxury and corruption, Greece 
 fell. When Rome, intoxicated with success, and mad- 
 dened with pride, lost its power of self-restraint and 
 self-discipline, used its energies as the instruments of 
 self-aggrandizement and the ministers of a debased 
 materialism, forgot the sanctity of lav/, and the para- 
 mount claims of the common weal, Rome fell. When 
 
252 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 the Saracen lost his simple faith, and sank into a 
 sensualism yet lower than that of the nations which 
 he had conquered, he too, became a nonentity in his- 
 tory. The law is universal and unfailing. It applies to 
 the nations of to-day as well as to those of the past. 
 Yea, and it behooves us to confess to-day, that it is 
 because this American nation has been unfaithful to its 
 trust, because it has departed from its Divine Idea, that 
 God is now punishing it ; and although he gives us 
 strong encourage'ment to believe that he does not now 
 seek its total overthrow, it is at least his manifest pur- 
 pose to chastise it, that through chastisement it may 
 be brought to renew its consecration, and to enter on 
 that high service to which it is called, with greater dili- 
 gence and conscientiousness than heretofore. We are 
 thus summoned to a consideration of the mission of the 
 American nation. 
 
 On the very threshhold of our inquiry into this sub- 
 ject, we are confronted with the spirit of materialism, 
 which has undertaken to decide this question from the 
 lowest of all standpoints, by the shortest and narrowest 
 of all standards, and which has thus contributed, in no 
 small degree, in bringing about that infidelity to its 
 trust of which God now accuses the Nation. And this 
 has been its language : "The American Nation has 
 been organized to furnish to the world an example of 
 wealth, prosperity, commercial greatness, industrial suc- 
 cess. Behold a country rich in all natural resources, 
 a continent of fertility, abounding in all the elements of 
 power, whose products will ere long be adequate to supply 
 the demands of civilization from the rising of the sun to 
 the going down of the same. See a land, where every 
 man, if he has only the requisite tact, energy and pru- 
 dence, may acquire a fortune. Behold a people inge- 
 nious, quick witted, enterprising, ever ready to avail 
 
SERMONS. 253 
 
 themselves of whatever tends to insure success. See 
 what they have already accomplished. Wildernesses 
 have been transformed into gardens. The place which 
 is to-day the haunt of the savage, is to-morrow the seat 
 of empire. Cities spring up as by enchantment. Riv- 
 ers, which yesterday rolled their majestic course amid 
 the unbroken silence of nature, are to-day ploughed by 
 the keel of the steamship. The scream of the fire-car 
 sweeps over the prairie, which resounded but now with 
 the tramp of the buffalo. The roaring of machinery, 
 the hum of trade, the sounds of husbandry, the lowing 
 of cattle on a thousand hills, echoed and re-echoed from 
 shore to shore, mingle with the harmonies of its East- 
 ern and Western Oceans. How great a Nation is this, 
 whose commerce whitens the seas, whose industry 
 prints its footsteps all over the continent, whose innu- 
 merable treasuries overflow with precious stores !" How 
 often has this spirit confronted us? How often during 
 the days of our peace were these proud boastings heard, 
 made not in the spirit of gratitude to the Giver of all 
 good, not in the lofty consciousness of a grand moral 
 destiny, to which all this wealth and power might be 
 made subservient, but in a spirit which regarded the 
 prosecution of these material ends, the development and 
 accumulation of these physical resources as the be-all 
 and the end-all of our national life. 
 
 Is it not true, that, however it may be now, until 
 lately, until the stern teachings of war had shown us 
 the shallowness and unworthiness of our views, the Na- 
 tion had become, in the popular conception, little else 
 than a vast co-partnership, organized on the lowest ma- 
 terial basis : — a great Mutual Insurance Company, to 
 protect and to advance the property interests of its 
 members ? Was it not too commonly the case, that the 
 worth of the Union was estimated by its financial value 
 
254 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 rather than by any higher standard of worth ? But there 
 is a somewhat higher idea of the American nationality 
 which, combining itself with that material idea just de- 
 scribed, was, perhaps, the prevalent idea among the 
 mass of intelligent and active American citizens almost 
 down to the present moment, which yet exerts a po- 
 tent sv/ay over large multitudes. This, we may call 
 the Political Idea. The characteristic of this idea is that 
 it gives prominence to the political significance of the 
 State, as a fact of more perfect accomplishment here 
 than elsewhere. It regards the American continent as 
 a theater for the most satisfactory solution of the great 
 problem of government, the adjustments of the rights, 
 privileges and obligations of men as citizens, as free sub- 
 jects of law. This is undoubtedly a condition of the 
 Divine Idea of our Nationality, an integral element of 
 its development: but is it all? Is there nothing higher 
 in that idea than the expression of a political formula, 
 the establishment of a governmental system, distin- 
 guished by the harmony and equipoise of its component 
 forces? This, indeed, were no trifling achievement: it 
 were one of vast consequence and momentous results. 
 But that we may the more clearly see the reason which 
 we have for gratitude in the prevalence at length of a 
 yet nobler view of our people, let us look for a moment 
 at some of the practical results of regarding the pro- 
 duction of a political system as the highest function of 
 American Nationality. Some of those results are these : 
 the idea of citizenship has, in great measure, eclipsed 
 the idea of manhood ; the claims of the State have been 
 too often stated and enforced without due respect to 
 the claims of humanity : the idea of Law has too far 
 merged itself into that of the Popular Will, and has 
 thus lost the attributes of fixity and authority : Politics 
 has lorded it over Morality : the Nation has become 
 
SERMONS. 255 
 
 secondary to the State, whereas the State ought to be 
 the servant of the Nation. 
 
 What next? There has resulted the diminution of 
 reverence for law, as a thing altogether in our own 
 hands, capable of being changed and moulded at will ; 
 the degeneracy of politics into a trade ; the absorption 
 of the nation's energies and the exhaustion of its pas- 
 sions in exciting political contests ; the ascendency of 
 party spirit, and the substitution of the claims of party 
 for the claims of country; the politicalization of the two 
 great intellectual powers of the land, the Rostrum and 
 the Press, and their consequent degradation ; the degra- 
 dation of the Rostrum by lowering it to the vulgar tastes 
 and prejudices of the rabble; the degradation of the 
 Press by making it the organ of sophistry, vituperation, 
 and falsehood. — And now mark how God is punishing 
 us for this. In consequence of this lack of genuine 
 heartfelt reverence for law, in consequence of the dispo- 
 sition to regard it merely as the breath of a popular im- 
 pulse, which another breath may dissipate, and not as 
 the authoritative determination of the enlightened Reason 
 and Conscience, not as the well-considered expression of 
 that which must be, and which should endure ; in con- 
 sequence of this surrender of the State to political traders 
 and tricksters, in consequence of this subordination of 
 manhood to political ends and uses; in consequence of 
 the prevalent servility to party ; in consequence of the 
 dishonest expedients adopted to secure partizan success ; 
 in consequence of the lying spirit, which has so largely 
 possessed the platform and the press; in consequence 
 of the disproportionate accumulation of the intellectual 
 and emotional life of the nation in political channels, — 
 what have we seen? We have seen the authority of the 
 Supreme Lav/ of the land scornfully and defiantly repu- 
 diated ; we have seen the principle and the right of an- 
 
256 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 archy unblushingly proclaimed; we have seen political 
 machinery, measures, and agencies, made the instru- 
 ments of the nation's destruction ; we have seen nation- 
 ality sacrificed to sectionalism ; we have seen the revela- 
 tions of the dishonesty of our* public officials, and the 
 corruptions of our political life held up to the contempt 
 of the world ; we have seen this momentous conflict 
 scornfully described as a disgraceful political squabble ; 
 we have seen the utterances of our public men, the 
 representations of our orators, and the statements of our 
 press, contemptuously tossed aside as unworthy of cre- 
 dence, and the American people denounced as unvera- 
 cious, unscrupulous, dishonest. — This is the penalty 
 which we must pay to-day ; and v/ho can deny that it 
 is in great part merited? And yet these consequences 
 are the direct, not to say the legitimate outgrowth of 
 that political idea of our nationality, which has so ex- 
 tensively prevailed. At least we may hope, that with 
 the predominance of a higher idea, and with the conse- 
 cration of the nation to a nobler aim, these evils will 
 gradually diminish. And it is to-day a cause of the 
 deepest gratitude that the war has brought this higher 
 idea, this nobler aim, in the clearest light before us. 
 
 The problems which it has brought with it have 
 forced upon us a more thorough and profound investi- 
 gation of the providential mission of the American 
 People. — It has compelled us to ask : Of what signifi- 
 cance is this struggle, if something higher is not involved 
 in it than the success of a political experiment ? Is it 
 worth the tremendous sacrifice which it demands, if 
 nothing else is to come out of it than the determination 
 of mere political issues? If the American People has 
 no higher mission than to build and run a political ma- 
 chine, why go to war to stop the building and running 
 of another such machine? What is the Unseen Impulse 
 
SERMONS. 257 
 
 which drives this nation, almost in despite of itself, into 
 a war of such magnitude, to prevent disruption? What 
 is that stern inexorable necessity, which compels it to 
 maintain at every cost and hazard the proclamation of 
 its original and indissoluble unity ? What is that Future, 
 that glorious destiny, toward which an invisible Hand 
 beckons it onward through the Red Sea of blood ? 
 These are questions, through the solution of which, 
 forced upon it by a wise and merciful Providence, the 
 Nation has at length been educated into a higher idea 
 than it has ever before seriously and generally realized, 
 of its historical world-mission. 
 
 What, then, is the mission of the American Nation ? 
 I answer, to vindicate the idea of manhood in its full- 
 ness and integrity ; manhood, as the basis of individual 
 freedom, of social order, of national growth ; manhood, 
 as the fountain of wisdom, the depositary of justice, the 
 inheritor of all privilege and right. Ours is the first 
 nationality in the history of the world, w ; hich has made 
 the assertion of this Divine Fact its definite aim. Other 
 nations have contributed, doubtless, to its development, 
 but no other has ever felt itself summoned to assume 
 the vindication of this idea, as its especial function. 
 The great declaratory charter of its rights, the immortal 
 inaugural in which it first enunciated to the world its 
 inspiring idea, rests on the fundamental truth, that all 
 men are in God's idea free. Manhood, it affirms, is the 
 grand fact of social and individual life. It is the crown 
 of all creaturely development. It is the goal of all 
 history. Heaven and earth are ordained for it. Gov- 
 ernment is made for man, not man for government. 
 All institutions, laws, liberties, rights, penalties, re- 
 wards, are shaped to the production of this result. It 
 is superior to all its accidents. Its claims and preroga- 
 tives are to be vindicated against every foe, whether 
 
258 LLEWELYN 10 AN EVANS. 
 
 against the brute force which would crush it; or against 
 the pride of rank, which would scorn it; or against the 
 selfishness of wealth, which would traffic in it ; or against 
 the bigotry of caste, which would ostracize it ; or against 
 the tyranny of the mob, which would outrage it. 
 A commonwealth of men, founded on the attributes 
 of manhood, on freedom, virtue, intelligence, self- 
 respect, self-control, independence — such is the ideal 
 American Commonwealth. A grander idea was never 
 given to any people to cherish and to actualize. It is 
 an axe which strikes at the root of the poison-trees, 
 by which humanity has been overshadowed, and its 
 beauty blighted. It is a fire which goes forth to burn 
 the accumulated mass of usurpation and wrong, beneath 
 which the true life of manhood has been buried. It 
 is an electric power which vibrates in the sky, clears 
 the overhanging clouds that darken the world, and, 
 albeit in storm, purges the atmosphere of its deadly 
 miasmas. To other nations it has been granted to 
 vindicate this or that attribute of manhood, but to ours 
 it has been granted to vindicate its Divine Idea in its 
 completeness, to be the Angel flying in the midst of 
 the heavens, proclaiming over sea and land this Eternal 
 Evangel of Manhood. It is the advocate of personal 
 independence; the apostle of individual worth. It 
 throws its heavenly aegis around man, saying: "Here 
 is the image of God, and it shall be sacred forever." 
 It inculcates faith in man, without which no progress, 
 no heroic achievement is possible. It proclaims the 
 principle of self-government, to-wit: that a people can 
 administer its own affairs, by virtue of its own inherent 
 power, wisdom, justice, benevolence, on the basis of 
 universal right, and guided by the Eternal Spirit, 
 whose inspiration is ever present in all the movements 
 of humanity; that men in the light of the intelligence, 
 

 SERMONS. 259 
 
 and under the promptings of the conscience, which 
 God has given them, can discern and ordain the best 
 laws for their government ; that a nation of men, bound 
 together by the common recognition of human rights, 
 and by the common law of justice and liberty, is a 
 better executor of the trusts committed to it, than any 
 man, or class, or order, who may undertake their ad- 
 ministration. Of this system, this National Idea, Man- 
 hood is the central pillar. It is the keystone of the 
 arch. Take it away, and all must fall to ruin. Take 
 it away, and the American Republic is a body without 
 a soul, a corpse. Take it away, and the history of 
 this people, the dealings of Providence with them, 
 become a mystery, which time in its whole course will 
 scarcely be able to solve. Take it away, and American 
 Nationality becomes the baseless fabric of a vision. 
 This is the Idea of that Nationality, grander, indeed, 
 in its present development than in its first germs. 
 
 And manifestly, to provide for this idea a fitting 
 theatre of development, God has given it a continent, 
 a world, for ages shrouded in the darkness of the Un- 
 known Mystery which haunted the ancient world from 
 beyond the earth-surrounding ocean-river, and then 
 brought to light in the fulness of time, to receive and 
 nurture the seed of liberty: a continent lying midway 
 betwixt the extreme East and the extreme West of yon 
 old world, and thus so situated as to receive and com- 
 municate the throbbing currents of international life ; a 
 continent, physically the oldest, historically the newest, 
 and geographically the most central, built, one would 
 say, on purpose to be the heart of the world ; a conti- 
 nent on which the Almighty has stamped Diversity in 
 Unity, Oneness in Variety, as though expressly to 
 contribute to the most varied and manifold development 
 of the one, but multitudinous nation whom his Provi- 
 
260 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 dence had ordained to inhabit it. And, manifestly, 
 still further to contribute to the growth of this grand 
 organic nationality, God has been bringing and still 
 is bringing hither the offspring of all the leading and 
 vital nationalities of the old world, their life, their active 
 forces, their brain, blood, bone, and sinew, their ideas, 
 powers, and characteristics, all the elements which time 
 has engrafted on them, and, fusing them together in this 
 great world-crucible, is producing a unitary result in na- 
 tional life and character, the like of which has never else- 
 where been seen, and could under no other circum- 
 stances be produced. And why? Manifestly again, 
 to organize here a nationality which should be the 
 richest and ripest fruit of all ages and lands ; a com- 
 monwealth answering to Milton's sublime definition, 
 "One huge Christian personage, one mighty growth 
 and stature of an honest man, as big and compact in 
 virtue as in body;" a Majestic Empire of Freedom 
 and Fraternity, which might be for all the world, and 
 for all time, the exponent of manhood in its broadest, 
 freest, fullest development ; a beneficent Christian 
 Power, qualified by its constitution, its education, and 
 its animating spirit, to understand, to reach, to influ- 
 ence, to lead, to elevate, to evangelize all the -nations 
 of the earth. 
 
 And it is because the rebellion of the South is a 
 conspiracy against this hope, because it is an attempt 
 to blast this future, to wrest from the American common- 
 wealth its crown of glory, to pluck from the Queen- 
 nation's brow her diadem of royalty, to blot out the 
 stamp of unity which God has put on the land, to ren- 
 der nugatory all the historical preparations which the 
 past has furnished for the establishment here of a 
 world-ruling, world-inspiring, world-sanctifying power, 
 that the Nation has at length arisen in its Majesty, and 
 

 SERMONS. 26 1 
 
 uplifting its hand to the Eternal Throne, has sworn by 
 him that sitteth upon it, and with the aid of his Omnip- 
 otent' Arm, to crush it utterly and forever. 
 
 At length it has become fully alive to its mission. 
 And when it sees that Holy Mission warred upon, when 
 it finds a minority rebelling against it, trampling with 
 the heel of scorn on the Declaration by which the Na- 
 tion's independence was secured, denouncing with bitter 
 and contemptuous hatred the fundamental truth on which 
 the Republic was built, denying with fierce disdain the 
 sacred claims of manhood, pouring contumely on the 
 image of Deity, seeking to rivet indissoluble fetters of 
 bondage on souls whose liberty God came to proclaim 
 and secure ; when it finds itself overwhelmed with a war 
 so portentous, so devastating, so bitter in its fruits, a war 
 inaugurated as a crusade against God's Idea of Man and 
 in behalf of the Devil's Idea, which would make a 
 man a thing, a soul a slave ; a war either to subvert 
 all nationality or to wrest from the Nation its charter of 
 life, to compel it to stultify all its past professions, all 
 the labors, achievements and sacrifices of its fathers, to 
 make it blind to the heavenly charms of freedom and 
 the dignity of personality, to make it deaf to the celes- 
 tial voice of Liberty, and the thunder tones of human 
 progress, to make it dumb that it may not utter the 
 sublime inspirations which sound from the battle-fields, 
 whereon bleach the bones of the heroes, of the heroes 
 of liberty and nationality from Marathon and Thermop- 
 ylae down, and ring in every noble heart — when the 
 Nation sees all this, its firm, unalterable resolution is : 
 The Union — that Union which represents all that is sa- 
 cred in our past, precious in our present, glorious in our 
 future, — must be preserved: while the foe of our na- 
 tionality, the destroyer of our brotherhood, that Wrong 
 which represents whatever is most shameful in our past, 
 
262 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 tragic in our present, and fatal to our future, that curse, 
 which would divide what God has joined, which would 
 make weak what God has made strong, which would 
 make that a power for injustice, which God meant to 
 be a power for justice and liberty — must be destroyed. 
 This, thank God, is the Nation's position to-day. It 
 has taken us some time to reach it. Very tender has 
 been our treatment of the great root-crime out of 
 which our bitter woes have grown. Exceedingly 
 cautious have we been lest we might seem to 
 countenance the terrible charge of malignant enemies 
 and hypocritical friends of the government, that this 
 war is in any sense an assertion of the law and power 
 of liberty. To be sure the war is primarily and fun- 
 damentally to preserve the government, to maintain our 
 nationality : but there has been, one might suppose, 
 a very unnecessary degree of shrinking from the open 
 declaration that it is to preserve a government, whose 
 soul is liberty, that it is to maintain a nationality, 
 whose grand mission it is to assert, within its sphere, 
 and in all of its activities, the right of manhood. It 
 required two years of suffering, of anxious, terrible toil, 
 of costly, bloody sacrifice, to bring us to feel that our 
 only salvation is in taking our position openly, firmly, 
 immovably on the rock whereon our Fathers stood, in 
 identifying ourselves with the Divine Idea, which is the 
 core of our nationality, even the sacredness, the invio- 
 lability, the Godlikeness of manhood. God be praised, 
 at last we are there ! At last we are prepared to say, 
 that liberty is the supreme law of the land, and that 
 liberty is commensurate with manhood. This is to-day 
 the voice of the Nation. And when I say Nation, 
 I mean that spirit of nationality which is now so 
 triumphantly marching on in the tramp of our armies, 
 so majestically proclaiming itself in the suffrages of the 
 

 SERMONS. 263 
 
 people, so nobly embodying itself in the acts and 
 declarations of the government. I mean whatever is 
 sound, vigorous, and vital in the power, which even 
 now dominant, will shortly reign supreme and alone. I 
 mean, if you will have it so, the North. Yes ! the 
 North is henceforth the Nation, by which I mean, that 
 the civilization of the North, the institutions of the 
 North, the policy of the North, the spirit of the North, 
 are to be henceforth the civilization, the institutions, 
 the policy, the spirit of the nation ; and that whatever 
 is opposed thereto must and will cease, in part by force 
 of law, in part by force of circumstance, in part by 
 force of assimilation produced by a freer intercourse and 
 a truer union. Hereafter our public men will know no 
 North, no South, not for the old reason that all is South, 
 but for the new reason that all is North : because from 
 the Lakes to the Gulf the ideas, the education, the lib- 
 erty, the progress of the North will bear sway unchal- 
 lenged and unimpaired. 
 
 Nor in this process will the South be lost. Far 
 from it. It will receive new life. It will be transformed 
 into a higher form of being. Whatever is corrupt, 
 barbarous, un chivalrous, unrepublican, unchristian, hav- 
 ing perished, then whatsoever is noble, generous, vital, 
 exalted, will pass into the life-blood of the new-born 
 Nation, to be an element of beauty and strength. It 
 is charged that victory can only result in subjugation. 
 Say rather in the liberation, the regeneration, the ele- 
 vation of the South, its more perfect identification with 
 the free Imperial Republic of the future. Then will 
 the spectacle be seen of a grand homogeneous nation- 
 ality, a noble Christian commonwealth, possessed by 
 no demon of discord, bearing no brand of shame, drag- 
 ging in its footsteps no clanking chain, leaving in its 
 footprints no crushed or mangled emblem of divinity, 
 
264 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 but animated by one "soul of liberty, breathing one 
 spirit of love, its brow shining with the light of that 
 celestial commonwealth, whose union is perfect, its 
 footsteps blossoming with peace, and life, and joy. 
 
 We praise God to-day that the vision of this Future 
 is granted unto us. We bless Him that with almost 
 unclouded eyesight we can look to that joyful consum- 
 mation. To-day we stand on Pisgah, and gaze at once 
 backward along the course of our painful pilgrimage, 
 and forward, to the rest which we trust awaits us, and 
 thank God for the one and the other. As we look back, 
 and see the wilderness through which we have fought 
 our weary way, with its terrible trials, its hissing veno- 
 mous serpents, its fields of carnage and desolation, as 
 we look back with tearful eyes on the resting-places of 
 the slain, the groans of the loved and honored brave, 
 who have fallen in the strife, as we think how much we 
 have been called on to bear, to suffer, to sacrifice, we 
 can still thank God, who has been our pillar of cloud 
 by day, and our pillar of fire by night ; who has been so 
 patient with our murmurings, our unbelief, our longing 
 after the flesh-pots of Egypt, our worshiping of the 
 golden calf, our conspiracies of the congregation of 
 Korah, and our compacts with Moab and Midian ; the 
 God who has inspired our legislators and our rulers, 
 given them patience, wisdom, courage to do what is 
 right, and hearts in sympathy with the great heart of 
 the People, and responsive to its wishes and determina- 
 tions, and who through them, amid the thunder and 
 lightning of battle, has given the Law of Liberty to 
 the land ; the God who has led our armies, who has 
 sustained the hearts of our brethren in the field, kept 
 them from sinking under defeat, or from ever despair- 
 ing of the Republic, filled them with a loyalty which 
 cannot be shaken, with a courage which knows no fal- 
 
SERMONS. 265 
 
 tering, with a patient endurance which nothing can tire, 
 with a love of country which shrinks from no toil, no 
 suffering, no sacrifice, to save her from dishonor; the 
 God who after many sore trials, and bitter humiliations, 
 has at length smiled on our arms, crowned them with 
 victory, and through victory strengthened the resolution, 
 born in adversity, to consecrate the Nation to liberty, 
 the Union to humanity ; the God who has restrained 
 the Nations of the Earth, whatever may have been their 
 disposition, from falling on us in the hour of weakness, 
 despoiling us of our most cherished prerogatives, and 
 frustrating us in our endeavors to accomplish what we 
 believe to be our chosen mission as a people ; the God 
 who has done wondrously and gloriously, not only in- 
 finitely beyond what we deserved, but immeasurably 
 more than we have ever dared to hope for. We praise 
 him as we look forward to the Land of Promise toward 
 which he has been guiding us, and see it lying before 
 us, resting under his broad bright smile, sparkling with 
 the golden streams of prosperity, overflowing with the 
 milk and honey of Learning and Art, rich in the wine 
 of liberty, and waving like Lebanon with the never fa- 
 ding, lordly crown of sovereign manhood. Our feet do 
 not indeed quite touch it as yet. We have the Jordan 
 yet to cross, the Canaanites yet to fight, and a long 
 hard struggle perhaps with the lingering Philistines ; we 
 have the work of organization, of reconstruction, of 
 harmonization, to perform ; we have the battles and 
 victories of Peace yet to win. 
 
 But the God who has led us hither will lead us to 
 the end. His arm is not yet asleep. ''Art thou not 
 it that hath cut Rahab, and wounded the dragon? 
 Art thou not it which hath dried the sea, the waters of 
 the great deep ; that hath made the depths of the sea a 
 way for the ransomed to pass over? " We thank Him, 
 
266 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 then, to-day, for the goodly prospect which expands 
 before us, the glorious future which beckons us onward, 
 glorious in its responsibilities as well as in its promises, 
 in its duties as well as its hopes. We praise Him in 
 behalf of that despised and oppressed race, who have 
 bowed so long under the yoke of slavery, whose blood 
 has so long cried from the earth for vengeance, who 
 have waited so patiently and prayed so fervently for 
 their deliverance from the house of bondage, that to all 
 of them the day of their salvation is nigh, even at the 
 door, that to thousands it has already come, that to 
 hundreds it has been granted by rallying around the 
 banner of freedom and nationality, by swearing to up- 
 hold it, to save it from dishonor, and to follow it 
 even unto death, and by vindicating their oath before 
 the mouth of the cannon, at the point of the bayonet, 
 and in the deadly trench, by doing all which brave 
 men can dare or do in a noble cause, to show them- 
 selves worthy of freedom, and deserving of a nation's 
 gratitude and praise. 
 
 We praise Him in behalf of those who have been 
 summoned to make great and costly sacrifices for the 
 country, for the assurance which they may enjoy that 
 their sacrifices will not be in vain, that results have 
 been already secured worth all the price which has 
 been paid, and that those which we may hope will ere 
 long be secured, transcend the most that we can give. 
 
 We praise Him in behalf of the generations yet un- 
 born, that they may hope to be spared the bitter cup 
 of which we must drink, that they may reap the har- 
 vest of beauty, of prosperity, of power, of progress, 
 of joy, which we to-day sow in tears and blood ; that 
 they may take warning by whatever in us has been un- 
 wise, unworthy, unmanly, sinful; and inspired by what- 
 

 SERMONS. 267 
 
 ever our times have brought forth that is sagacious, 
 honorable, heroic, just. 
 
 We praise Him in behalf of the oppressed Nation- 
 alities of Earth, that the expectations which they have 
 so long centred on this Republic do not seem doomed 
 to disappointment, that the example of self-government 
 here presented is not to become a shadow and a mock- 
 ery, that here they may always find a sympathizing 
 Helper and Friend. 
 
 We praise Him in behalf of all the free Nationalities 
 of Earth, that here they may hope ever to find a 
 counsellor and fellow-laborer, to aid in the great work 
 of raising humanity to the enjoyment of its noblest 
 prerogatives and privileges. 
 
 We praise Him in behalf of the Church of Christ, 
 that here may spring up a Missionary Nationality, 
 which, by its central position, its commercial relations, 
 its popular institutions, its spiritual as well as secular 
 enterprise, its more richly constituted and freely devel- 
 oped humanity, its vast resources, its training in the 
 virtues of magnanimity, liberality, sympathy, philan- 
 thropy (indestructibly engrafted on it, we pray, by 
 this trial) will be prepared, beyond any other nation, 
 to reach, to move, to civilize, and to Christianize the 
 benighted nationalities of the globe, until that bright 
 Millennial Day shall dawn, when universal humanity 
 shall enter on the possession of its lasting heritage of 
 liberty, truth, religion, love, when the great brother- 
 hood of man shall bow together before the throne of 
 our common Father, shall circle the Cross of our com- 
 mon Redeemer, and strive in one love, for one faith, 
 one character, one immortality. Then shall glory be 
 to God in the highest, peace on earth, good will to 
 men. 
 
XII. 
 
 THE TESTS OF CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Ephesians 3 : 18. " May be able to comprehend with all saints what is the breadth 
 
 and length and depth and height." 
 
 In its intellectual aspects the age in which we live is 
 wont to be charged as a critical age. As humanity ad- 
 vances in intellectual power, the spirit of inquiry and 
 personal independence becomes more strongly and 
 generally developed. Men are less disposed than of 
 old to be led by tradition, or lean on authority. They 
 insist on testing whatsoever claims their acceptance. 
 This is so especially in matters of religious faith. Chris- 
 tianity itself is subjected to searching tests, and probed 
 through and through. 
 
 An impression seems to prevail in some quarters that 
 Christianity is afraid of this trial, that it shrinks from 
 these tests. Nothing can be more unfounded than this 
 impression. Whatever a few timid souls here and there 
 may have thought and said, whatever mistaken policy 
 of proscription or persecution a benighted, corrupt, 
 enervated church may sometimes have adopted, Chris- 
 tianity itself, as represented by the faith of an intelligent, 
 healthy, living church, has ever welcomed the fullest, 
 most searching examination of its claims. Indeed, it 
 is one great duty of the advocates of Christianity to 
 hold it up to this inspection, to help men in applying to 
 (268) 
 

 SERMONS. 269 
 
 it whatever tests are in themselves legitimate and ap- 
 priate. 
 
 It will be the aim of this discourse to aid in making 
 an application of one such test to Christianity, as we 
 understand it. This test is a quality not very easily 
 defined in a single term, for which no single term is in 
 the nature of the case altogether adequate, and which 
 can not be better described, perhaps, than by that group 
 of terms in which Paul in the text describes the Re- 
 demptive Love of Christ, when he prays that the Ephe- 
 sians may be able to know and comprehend what is the 
 breadth, and length and depth and height. 
 
 I assume now, as a fundamental axiom, self-evident 
 to every reflecting mind, that a trustworthy system of 
 truth, and especially a true science of Divine things, 
 must possess these properties, spiritually interpreted, of 
 breadth, length, depth and height : that is to say, it 
 must have fulness, richness, (expansiveness,) compre- 
 hensiveness, manifoldness. It must be broad and long 
 and deep and high, full and inexhaustible. It must 
 have, of course, other qualities besides these, such as 
 clearness, consistency, unity, practical utility, and the 
 like : but these qualities being presupposed, it may be 
 safely laid down that that system has the greatest 
 antecedent probability in its favor, which is largest in its 
 contents, widest in its range, most manifold in its 
 relations, most inspiring in its power, most enriching in 
 its contributions to the higher life of the soul. That 
 representation of the world of spiritual facts and Di- 
 vine realities is most likely to be true, which gives 
 one the widest scope of vision, whose horizon is broad- 
 est, whose zenith is highest, whose heavens are 
 most spacious, whose depths most abound in trea- 
 sures of great price. That religion is most Divine 
 which answers for us the most questions, which solves 
 
2J0 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 the most doubts, which fills the most wants, which 
 touches the soul at most points, which opens most 
 avenues of communication with God, whose revelation 
 brings to light most sublimity and perfection, and bears 
 the costliest freight of ' ' truths that wake to perish 
 never." 
 
 I shall not stop to argue at length in favor of this 
 proposition. It is implied in the very being and con- 
 stitution of man. Behold for a moment this product 
 of Divine wisdom ! this being so fearfully and won- 
 derfully made ! Look at the complexity of his organ- 
 ization, the multiplicity of his needs and susceptibil- 
 ities, the boundlessness of his desires, the manifoldness 
 of his relations, the illimitableness of his capabilities. 
 Surely it is no exaggeration when the poet says of the 
 human soul that it is — 
 
 " Of a thousand faculties composed 
 And twice ten thousand interests.' 
 
 For such a being as this, so bountifully endowed, 
 made to be, in the language of the old philosopher, 
 "the measure of the universe," that must be the true 
 religion which most fully corresponds to his wants and 
 possibilities. That must be the truest version of the 
 grand universe of spiritual facts, which best satisfies and 
 harmonizes with the soul's needs and activities. 
 
 We come to the same conclusion in another way. 
 Look at this universe of matter! How vast! how end- 
 lessly varied ! how broad and long and deep and high ! 
 how rich in significance and beauty is even this! But 
 compare matter with spirit. That is gross, monotonous, 
 barren, lifeless: this is ethereal, infinitely various, free, 
 potent, productive. The one is but a shell, the husk: 
 the other the true living organism. The one is the 
 shadow, cold, colorless, unsubstantial, dead: the other 
 is reality glowing with beauty, palpitating with life, in- 
 
SERMONS. 27I 
 
 stinct with energy. The material world, considered 
 apart and alone, is finite and temporal. The spiritual 
 has God for its centre, infinity for its boundary, eternity 
 for its measure, and is traversed its whole length by 
 mystery, the shadow which ever trembles along the line 
 where the finite borders on the infinite. The one is 
 exhaustible to the reason and feeling, the other inex- 
 haustible forever. 
 
 Hence then, I repeat, the system that most faithfully 
 reflects the boundless universe of Divine Reality in its 
 magnitude and amplitude, that system which brings the 
 human into the closest connection with the Divine, the 
 finite with the infinite, the temporal with the eternal, 
 flashing on the lower the light of the higher, and in- 
 vesting it with infinite significance and worth, such a 
 system, it needs no further argument to show, must 
 be that which God meant for men. 
 
 And such a system is Christianity. Alone of all the 
 systems received among men does it satisfy the terms 
 of the test which has already been laid down. The 
 Word of God claims for it this quality in language most 
 significant and emphatic. It is called a manifestation 
 by the Church of the manifold wisdom of God, a mani- 
 festation made to the principalities and powers in heav- 
 enly places, to the highest, that is, in the celestial hierarchy 
 of intelligence. Angels desire to look into it. It is the 
 mystery hid from ages and from generations, but 
 abounding in riches of glory made known to the saints. 
 It is the unsearchable riches of Christ. • It is what eye 
 hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart conceived — 
 Yea, the deep things of God revealed by the Spirit who 
 alone searcheth them. 
 
 The Bible then, we see, claims for Christianity, as a 
 body of truth, these qualities of boundless breadth, of 
 unsearchable depth, of inexhaustible fulness, of trans- 
 
272 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 cendent glory. Can this claim be justified? Does 
 Christianity really possess these qualities? In discussing 
 these questions I hope to make it appear that it does, 
 and not only so, but that the one form of Christianity 
 for which this claim can be vindicated is that which is 
 commonly recognized by the name Evangelical Chris- 
 tianity. 
 
 First then, let us test in the light of the principle first 
 laid down, the claims put forth by Christianity as a 
 system of supernatural facts and agencies. 
 
 The theory called naturalism, which opposes these 
 claims, teaches that everything, takes place wholly 
 and exclusively according to physical law, according 
 to a certain fixed immutable order. There is a line 
 of sequences running from the begining to the end of 
 things. No power can come between the cause and 
 effect, and change the course of law. God himself 
 never so intervenes, either because he can not, being 
 himself bound by the law which binds nature, or be- 
 cause he will not; the predetermined order estab- 
 lished by himself being the best possible, so that it 
 would be inconsistent in him to change it. And this, 
 it is claimed, is the glory of the system of nature. It 
 is so perfect, so harmoniously adjusted from the begin- 
 ning, that no intervention is needed. Whatever design 
 God had to fulfill at any particular point is provided for 
 in the system itself. No exigency can be sprung upon 
 it, which the system is not ready to meet. 
 
 Whereas, it is claimed that the theory of the super- 
 natural, seems to imply that God's original plan is a fail- 
 ure. It breaks down here and there, so that God must 
 step in to repair the failure, to do himself what the 
 system which he first chose and established as best, as 
 perfect, has shown itself inadequate to accomplish. 
 
 Now we admit that if God has called into existence 
 

 SERMONS. 273 
 
 nothing but matter, nothing which is not moved and 
 determined from without, the argument is a good one. 
 If God has created nothing but a machine, in which 
 one wheel is set in motion by another, and in which 
 every motion of every wheel is regulated absolutely by 
 other parts of the machinery, then to say that God 
 puts forth his hand here, and his finger there, to 
 change the motion of one wheel, to stop or reverse 
 that of another, to secure at any point some particular 
 result, which the machinery at that point fails to secure, 
 that is to reproach God with failure. But this is ex- 
 actly the point where we take issue with materialism. 
 According to its theory, the universe is just such a 
 machine. 
 
 You see, then, what this system gives you. It gives 
 you a huge machine, constructed — perhaps — by God, 
 ages ago, but since then let alone, running itself, 
 weaving out its own products, God standing aside and 
 looking on. Or else if you prefer the statement, for it 
 is the only alternative on the theory of naturalism, 
 God himself is that machine. This endless play of 
 cause and effect, this incessant plying of the shuttle 
 of law, it is God in motion. In either case you are 
 shut up in this iron-bound routine which you call law; 
 you are under the inexorable tyranny of causation; 
 you, and everything else, are mere puppets of Fate. 
 You may speak of "moral agents," but you are cheat- 
 ing yourself with a name. All agents are subject to 
 the same laws. Your actions, and all actions, are de- 
 termined by powers which you can not resist nor 
 change. You may talk of "spiritual world;" it is a 
 mere euphemism ; all is part and parcel of one system. 
 There is nothing but nature anywhere. You may talk 
 of "right and wrong," but it is only an illusion. These 
 words mean only that some wheels turn forward, and 
 
274 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 others turn backward, whereas if you could only see 
 the whole machinery, it is all one. You may talk of 
 "God;" you might just as well say "Law," "Na- 
 ture," "Fate," "Logic of Events," for what is that 
 which you call God after all ? It is simply, generally, 
 a metaphysical convenience to account for the existence 
 of things, to help the unscientific mind answer the 
 question — who made the world? 
 
 But all that you can know of God is what you find 
 out in nature. All that God can do for you is just 
 what nature does for you. As for praying to God, or 
 thanking him — what is the use of it all? As well pray 
 to the law of gravitation to bring the rain down. As 
 well thank the law of specific gravity for preserving 
 you from drowning. As well love the law of nutrition 
 for sustaining your life. Religion, faith in the unseen, 
 trust in a Power who uses every other power as he 
 wills, love and reverence for One whose wisdom is un- 
 searchable, and his ways past finding out — it is all 
 vanity. Nature is all in all. This you can see, touch, 
 handle, use, and know. What more do you want? 
 What else is there for you ? 
 
 Now let us turn to the doctrine of the Supernatural 
 that we may contrast it with the other, and judge 
 which gives the broadest and sublimest view of God's 
 Administration of the Universe. This doctrine you 
 will notice, admits that there is a system of nature, a 
 world of order, uniformity, law, as these terms are 
 defined by the Naturalist. In that system everything 
 is subject to the law of cause and effect, and so far as we 
 may call it, for practical purposes, a machine. More- 
 over, this machine is perfect in and for itself. So far 
 as the results belonging to itself are concerned, no 
 supernatural interposition is needed. But this machine 
 does not embrace all forms of existence. God has 
 
SERMONS. 275 
 
 created agencies whose movements are not a part of 
 the mechanism of cause and effect. He has made 
 beings in his own image, free, independent, having the 
 power to originate movements, to produce results which 
 would be impossible in a mechanical necessity. Here, 
 then, we have in effect another world, another system 
 of powers, forces, activities, above and apart from that 
 mechanism of cause and effect, which is the only world 
 recognized by naturalism. And the doctrine of the 
 supernatural teaches that as between these two w r orlds, 
 the world of free, spiritual, self-moving activity is far 
 superior to the world of necessity. Its powers and 
 activities are nearer in form and reality to those of God. 
 Here, then, we are to look for the truest interpretation 
 of God's plan. Here we must expect to find his high- 
 est and largest methods of working. 
 
 Instead of making that lower world of necessity, of 
 matter, the measure of this higher world of liberty, 
 we should make this the measure of that. That is alto- 
 gether subordinate to this. That world of mechanical 
 movement is simply an instrument used by God to 
 further his plans in this world of moral movement, of 
 spiritual activity. 
 
 " What is the world, the starry state 
 Of the broad skies — what all displays 
 Of power and beauty intermixed, 
 Which now thy soul is chained betwixt, 
 What else than needful furniture 
 For life's first stage ? " 
 
 Instead of judging the laws of God's actions by what 
 he does in that world of preparatory instrumentalities, 
 we should judge them by what he does in the world of 
 ultimate results. 
 
 Our doctrine affirms still further that this latter world, 
 by virtue of the very power of liberty inherent in it, 
 has become the scene of fearful disorder. It has gene- 
 
276 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 rated within itself an appalling power of evil, which 
 strives to dislocate the universe, to send it from its God, 
 and to hurl it back into chaos. This terrible power is 
 what no mere machine could ever have produced. 
 
 It is a perversion of a glorious power which has in 
 it something of God Himself. Something which mat- 
 ter could never contain or manifest. It strikes at the 
 very throne of God. Is that conceivable of matter or 
 any evolution of matter ? 
 
 Now bear in mind that this moral system, endowed 
 with these wonderful powers, thus disturbed and con- 
 vulsed by sin, is the system in which God most espe- 
 cially reveals himself; that its interests are the highest 
 and most important in his sight ; that the ultimate ends 
 of all he does are to be sought for here, that the sys- 
 tem of nature exists for this, and is of use so far, and 
 only so far, as it helps to work out the great results for 
 the sake of which he made the moral world. Bear in 
 mind, moreover, that these two systems, or if you pre- 
 fer, these two parts of the one great system, are so 
 different in their quality, their organization, their move- 
 ments, that the physical world can no more solve the 
 problems of the moral universe, than a calculating 
 machine can expound the decalogue ; and that to say 
 that in dealing with the mysterious powers of the 
 spiritual world, God must use the same methods as 
 in the natural, and none other, is as reasonable as it would 
 be to affirm that he must use moral forces as he uses 
 physical forces, in conformity to the principles of geom- 
 etry. 
 
 You will then be prepared for the teachings of faith 
 in the supernatural, when it says : God uses the system 
 of nature as he wills, to secure the grand results of his 
 moral administration. He uses nature as his instru- 
 ment. He exercises the liberty of a wise and sover- 
 
SERMONS. 277 
 
 eign Ruler to change its uniform order, whenever the 
 interests of his moral administration require it. He 
 opens the windows of heaven, unseals the fountains of 
 the deep. " He springs the hushed volcano's mine, he 
 puts the earthquake on her still design, darkens the 
 sun, hath bade the forest sink, he changes water into 
 wine," makes the blind to see, brings the dead to life 
 again, in a word, he transcends the bounds of our lim- 
 ited experience, asserts himself as Lord of nature, 
 constrains it to the performance of results of which apart 
 from the great spiritual ends thus accomplished, nature 
 itself furnishes no foreshadowing. 
 
 But you ask, does not this doctrine in the least 
 disparage nature ? Does it not dishonor law or detract 
 from its true significance? Not in the least. On the 
 contrary, there is no system which sets on nature the 
 seal of a higher consecration than Christianity, in that 
 it declares nature to be more than a huge mechanism 
 of physical force, more than an intellectual phenom- 
 enon, to be in truth the auxiliary of God's moral plan, 
 his pliant instrument in the spiritual regeneration and 
 discipline of his children. The Christian system is 
 indeed in the highest sense a system of law, not a law 
 as dominant merely to these grosser material elements 
 of existence, not of law as confined within the bounds 
 of our brief and petty experience of physical facts. It 
 reveals to us a system of law as determined by the 
 Divine Mind, of law as manifesting itself in the illimit- 
 able realms of spiritual liberty and life, of law as the 
 measure of the Divine purpose that runs through the 
 ages of eternity. Its agents are not the dancing pup- 
 pets of Destiny, moved by some higher sort of electric- 
 ity, which makes freedom and responsibility impossible. 
 They are sons of God deriving from their Author capa- 
 bilities which the categories of Infinitude can alone 
 
2^8 LLEWEYLN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 measure and contain. Its forces are not meaningless 
 make-believes playing at an infinite game of hide-and- 
 seek, sportively disguising themselves as Good and Evil, 
 Truth and Error, Angel and Devil, whose collisions 
 have no significance, essentially more real, or profound, 
 or lasting than the clashing of billows, or the battles of 
 ants. They are endowed with the free rational energy 
 which moves in Omnipotence itself. Its disorders and 
 convulsions have power to shake all but the everlasting 
 throne. Its conflicts are such as enlist the energies of 
 Omnipotence, the flaming ardors of Infinite Justice, the 
 gentle but invincible compassions of Infinite Love. 
 Its height is heaven ; its depth is hell. Its glories and 
 joys are consummate perfection of capabilities which 
 find their completion in the Infinite; its horrors and 
 woes are the dread counterpart of those glories and 
 joys, the abysmal darkness, desolation, despair of lost 
 souls. 
 
 Contrast again for a moment the revelation which 
 Christianity as a supernatural system gives of God, 
 with that given by naturalism. According to the 
 latter, as we have already seen, God is little else than 
 Force or Fate. He is nothing more than Nature per- 
 sonified. What Nature is, God is : that, and that only. 
 The solution of Nature is the solution of God. Man 
 is the measure of the universe, and the universe is the 
 measure of God. But what does Christianity reveal to 
 us? It reveals God as in very deed, and not in name 
 only, the Infinite One, whose intelligence is boundless, 
 whose wisdom is unsearchable, the laws of whose 
 activity infinitely transcend the manifestations you find 
 in Nature, so that it were easier to find all of the soul 
 in the visible actions of the muscles and nerves of the 
 body, than to find all of God in Nature. It reveals God 
 as a Ruler whose Kingdom is without end. A Ruler 
 
SERMONS. 279 
 
 whose great Plan has for its meaning not the mere 
 evolution of matter, but the redemption and beatifica- 
 tion of spirit. It reveals God as a Father, as the Head 
 not of a kingdom only, but of a family, who adminis- 
 ters the affairs of his vast household, not with the cold 
 precision of the mechanist, nor with the willful caprice 
 of a despot, but with the thoughtful interest and yearn- 
 ing tenderness, the faithful wisdom of a Father's heart, 
 ever overflowing in gentle ministrations of beneficence, 
 and ever breaking out in sweet surprises of love. Say, 
 O brother man ! which of these views of God is most 
 worthy of Him ? Which best meets the needs and 
 longings of that erring, struggling, suffering heart of 
 thine? And here before leaving this branch of our 
 subject, let us compare briefly the views which these 
 two systems present of man. We will not insist now, 
 as we might do, on the manifest tendency of all forms 
 of naturalism to degrade man by sinking his genealogy 
 in the brute, and to make his physical conditions the 
 determining force of his life. We will, for the present, 
 assume that naturalism goes no further than to deny 
 the need or the application of supernatural agencies to 
 the redemption of man from sin, or, to the promotion 
 of his spiritual advancement. But consider what this 
 denial involves. 
 
 If there is no supernatural redemption, aud no need 
 of such, it follows that sin involves no serious derange- 
 ment of the normal order of existence, that the com- 
 mission of it involves the exercise of no power of 
 liberty or self-determination peculiar to man. If there 
 is no such power, appalling as it is, when exercised 
 in the direction of evil, it is difficult to see how there 
 can be in the direction of good, the possibility of 
 attaining any such elevation as will vindicate for 
 
280 LLEWELYN 10 AN EVANS. 
 
 humanity any special prerogatives above the rest of 
 the sentient creation. 
 
 Human development being a purely natural process, 
 the products of brain and heart being but organic se- 
 cretions of a higher quality, the Platonic philosophy is 
 but a more refined type of the silkworm cocoon. That 
 the Christian commonwealth is but a colossal honey 
 comb, that the achievements of genius and of heroism 
 are the offspring of one universal force which rolls through 
 all things, which works in the spider and the serpent, 
 the coward and the knave, as well as in the martyr and 
 the saint — what then ? All personal nobleness vanishes 
 at once out of human character, the glory of the God- 
 like no longer crowns the life. 
 
 Christianity on the other hand, in recognizing super- 
 natural agencies among the determining forces of man's 
 spiritual history, recognizes in man something which 
 rises above nature, which claims nearer kinship to God, 
 which qualifies him to know and to feel God in loftier 
 aspirations, and more intimate relations than those in 
 which he can be known or felt in nature. In the view 
 which it furnishes of the reality of human responsibility 
 and liberty, of the depth of humanity's fall, of the power 
 needed for its recovery, of the subordination of all nat- 
 ural and historical movements to the moral interests of 
 the Divine government, it confers imperishable dignity 
 on that manhood, to the spiritual restoration and culture 
 of which all the forces of the Divine administration con- 
 verge. Recognizing in man the very child of God, it 
 finds in his powers affinities to the Divine powers, it 
 finds the Infinite of the Divine Life reflected in the 
 illimitable of human capacity and progress, it finds in 
 human perfection the spiritual asymptote which ever 
 approximates the Divine Perfection, the ever ripening 
 

 SERMONS. 28l 
 
 glory of a manhood nurtured immediately by the life 
 of Him in whose Infinite Beauty is Infinite Holiness. 
 Naturalism tells us that Inspiration is a general and 
 perpetual fact It is not limited to times or persons, or 
 books. Every utterance which brings to light some 
 great verity, or some important aspect of being is a 
 revelation. Every soul which speaks from an original, 
 living, and powerful intuition or experience of beauty, 
 goodness, truth, is inspiredc The Bible is a revelation, 
 but so are the Vedas, the Koran, the Iliad. Isaiah, 
 Paul, Jesus, were inspired, but so were Buddha, 
 Zoroaster, Socrates. God did communicate v/ith men 
 in Palestine centuries ago, but so he does in other lands 
 to-day. Inspiration is not a thing of the past. The Book 
 of Divine Revelation is not closed : and the Scriptures of 
 the Nineteenth Century are, and of right ought to be, 
 better and fuller than those of the first. And the nat- 
 uralist imagines that in thus enlarging the area, extend- 
 ing the period, and multiplying the media of inspiration, 
 he dignifies humanity, exalts its prerogatives, widens 
 its prospects, and magnifies its destiny. 
 
 But is it so? Let us admit the claims put forth by 
 the opponents of supernaturalism, in so far as they are 
 of a positive character. They tell us that God's Spirit 
 as the spirit of Truth is not confined to Judea, or the 
 past : that he is present with men of all times and of all 
 lands, unfolding now more clearly and now more ob- 
 scurely the realities of the Spiritual Universe, giving to 
 them glimpses, here brighter and there fainter, of the 
 Good that is above them, the Life that is beyond them, 
 of the Eternity that is around them, of the God who 
 is in all, and through all, and over all : and furthermore, 
 that he raises from time to time seers, prophets, 
 teachers, men of refined spiritual organization, of clari- 
 fied vision and prevision, whose souls thrill responsively 
 
282 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 beneath the influences of the unseen, and throb with 
 the life of the unborn Future, and whose tongues are 
 tipt with heavenly flame. Let us admit that, I say, as 
 Paul in Athens admitted it. Call those manifestations 
 if you please, revelations : call that enlarged apprehen- 
 sion — inspiration. We will admit the fact, waiving, for 
 the present, all controversy about terms. But what 
 then ? Do we gain anything by saying that there is 
 nothing more than this? Does the materialism of the 
 world gain by denying that amidst all the productions 
 which give value to it, amidst all the "thoughts which 
 breathe and words which burn " on the written page, 
 amidst all these, and rising immeasurably above all 
 these, there is one word which can be called — The Word 
 of God? Does the realm of thought gain by denying 
 that amidst all the profound intuitions, the surprising 
 discoveries, the glowing exhibitions of truth, amidst all 
 those sublime utterances in which we are constrained to 
 recognize the echoes of the Eternal Voice, there is one 
 Book, in whose utterances that Voice so unmistakably 
 speaks that by it we are enabled to test all other utter- 
 ances whatsoever — Yea, not only to test them, but to 
 extract from them a higher meaning, to see in them a 
 diviner beauty than would otherwise have appeared in 
 them? — for does anyone doubt that the Christian phi- 
 losopher of to-day finds in Plato greater depth and 
 beauty of thought than the most gifted philosopher of 
 Athens? Does the history of truth in its progressive 
 march from age to age gain by denying that God or- 
 dained aforetimes a wonderful series of events to be the 
 living embodiment and representation of truth, culmi- 
 nating in a great historic Incarnation of The Truth, a 
 series of events so unspeakably sublime, an Incarnation 
 so mysteriously and yet so divinely glorious, that the 
 special teachings of the Eternal Spirit were needed to 
 
SERMONS. 283 
 
 enable human intelligence rightly to apprehend them, 
 and human speech faithfully to record them for the en- 
 lightenment of the future? Does the conception of 
 humanity's capabilities and prospects gain by denying 
 that the spirit of man can be brought into such accord 
 with the Spirit of God as to be susceptible of perfectly 
 receiving and transmitting the thoughts, the purposes, 
 and the life of God ? 
 
 When we say that human intelligence, insight, pre- 
 vision, can be made, even now, the special exponents 
 of the Divine Thought, can even in this world of ob- 
 scurity and bewilderment, in this life of struggling and 
 doubting, be lifted to the realms of light and calm and 
 certainty, when we point in proof of this to the Bible, 
 to the Divine Power which pulsates in every line of it, 
 to the Divine Beauty which shines on every page of it, 
 to the Divine Fullness which bursts forth in every mes- 
 sage of it, do we thereby depreciate the powers and 
 prospects of the soul? Nay! The doctrine of Plenary 
 Inspiration, while it takes naught away from the great- 
 ness and worth of all other activities and achievements 
 of the mind, immeasurably enhances our view of the 
 sweep of its powers, of the range of its possibilities, 
 of the altitude of its future attainments, by establishing 
 a communion between it and the Eternal Spirit, the 
 loftiness and intimacy of which surpasses all that other- 
 wise we could have deemed possible. 
 
 I have discoursed thus long about this part of our 
 subject, because the controversy between faith and un- 
 belief in our day, seems to turn principally on the 
 opposition between naturalism and supernaturalism, 
 and because the denial of the latter is a bar at the out- 
 set to the reception of any of the distinctive features of 
 the Christian Religion. I shall only have time to indi- 
 cate very briefly, some of the results which may be 
 
284 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 reached by applying the same test to a few of those 
 features, leaving it with you to make a wider and minuter 
 application for yourselves. 
 
 Let us begin, then, with the Evangelical doctrine of 
 the Trinity, The opposite view commonly known as 
 Unitarian (which name I use in its philosophical, and 
 not in its sectarian sense,) establishes itself on the sim- 
 ple and absolute unity of God. This it sets forth as 
 the only and total expression of the constitution of the 
 Divine Nature. According to the Trinitarian view, on 
 the contrary, all of a positive character which Unita- 
 tarianism affirms of the Divine Unity is true, and of 
 Cardinal importance, while still further there is a sense 
 in which God is three, as he is also one. He is not 
 only the Infinite and Absolute One, he is at the same 
 time, the Father, the Son, and Holy Spirit, these dis- 
 tinctions being not nominal, but real and personal. 
 
 And, now, which of these two views gives us the 
 fullest, most comprehensive, and satisfactory concep- 
 tion of the Deity? Let me direct your attention 
 simply by way of illustration, to one or two connec- 
 tions in which the superiority of the Evangelical view 
 is, to my mind, strikingly manifest. 
 
 Have you not often found yourself striving to con- 
 ceive the existence of God, when he was as yet alone? 
 And have you not found something appalling, some- 
 thing oppressive in the thought of that Infinite and 
 Eternal solitude in which the naked conception of the 
 Divine Unity compels you to place God? Do you 
 wonder, then, in all heathen religions, and in all sys- 
 tems of thought outside of Christianity, the mind of 
 man shrinks from regarding Eternity as the abode of a 
 solitary personality, and has preferred filling it either^ 
 with some impersonal attraction, some neutral Force, 
 some Nothing of which it could just be said that it 
 
SERMONS. 285 
 
 was, some Infinite That, as the Hindu calls it, some 
 To Auto, as even Plato is betrayed into designating it, 
 or else with an endless series of theogonies, or suc- 
 cession of changes ? What relief from that oppression 
 is there except in the doctrine revealed through Christ, 
 that from Eternity God was there, that from everlast- 
 ing, Father, Son, and Spirit, lived together in ineffable 
 and blissful intercommunion ? How is it again when 
 you think of God in his relations to the mind? First 
 of all you find yourself under the necessity of think- 
 ing of Him as the Great First Cause. Your intellect 
 demands this solution of the problem of creation. But 
 does this satisfy you ? No ! You want to find God in 
 Nature. You do not want to feel that nature stands 
 between you and God, that he is behind it, back of all 
 its movements and powers, but that he is here, now. 
 You feel all the time that the conception of a mere 
 First Cause fades away into an abstraction, something 
 far away from you, vague, impersonal, intangible. You 
 want a conception of the Deity, which will assure you 
 not only that God made all things, but that he is the 
 life of all, the spirit who encourages all. But are you 
 satisfied yet? No! You find that this conception of 
 a Universal Spirit filling all things, tends to diffuse it- 
 self into a generality scarcely less vague than the 
 former. You feel yourself drifting into pantheism, the 
 conception of a God who is everything. You want 
 still further, the conception of a God who comes forth 
 out of himself, revealing himself as a distinct, real, 
 historic personality. Such is the view of God which 
 the Christian doctrine of the Trinity gives you. 
 
 It reveals God as the Cause, the Life and the Law 
 of the universe : God the Father, creating all things ; 
 God the Spirit, animating all things; God the Son, 
 the Logos, legislating and ruling all things, in whom, 
 
286 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 as the Incarnate Word, the true personality of the 
 Godhead is most fully manifested. Here the mind is 
 satisfied. It has a revelation of the Deity in which it 
 can rest, secure from those negative, vague, mechanical 
 extremes, into which more partial views almost certainly 
 lead. 
 
 Let us rise still higher to the moral life of the Deity. 
 The Fatherhood of God: where should we find the 
 best evidence of that ? Shall we look to Nature ? Its 
 testimony is enigmatic, fragmentary and confused. 
 Shall we appeal to Providence ? Its witness is all but 
 drowned in the thousandfold wail of earth's discords 
 and woe. Shall we listen to the voices of the heart? 
 Conscience burdened with guilt and trembling with 
 forebodings, speaks louder than the heart. No ! if you 
 would be assured that God is indeed the Father, you 
 must betake yourself to the testimony which assures 
 you that from eternity his heart throbbed with the love 
 of his only begotten, the brightness of his glory, and 
 the express image of his person. Nor is this all which 
 this testimony makes known to you. It tells you of a 
 Spirit proceeding from the Father, by the Son, who is 
 given to those who believe, and who being received by 
 them makes them the sons of God. The Eternal Father, 
 the Eternal Son, the Eternal Spirit of Sonship — this is 
 the threefold testimony on which we rest our faith in 
 the Divine Fatherhood. Take it away and will not this 
 precious truth lose its most sure witness? 
 
 The Love of God ! do you wish to comprehend its 
 breadth and depth and length and height? Where then 
 will you find its highest expression ? The test of human 
 love is sacrifice, the sacrifice of self. Does not your 
 heart cry out for some testimony of the Divine Love, 
 as full, as deep, as tender, as that which human love 
 gives when it sacrifices itself for another? But think of 
 
SERMONS. 2S7 
 
 it! God making a sacrifice, — and that sacrifice Himself, 
 is that conceivable ? Take away the doctrine of the 
 Trinity, and the conception is impossible. He makes 
 the sacrifice — do you say? but how, to whom? There 
 must be One to accept it, One to represent those infi- 
 nite interests of Love and Justice, to satisfy which the 
 sacrifice is made, and to declare its sufficiency. There 
 must be One again to authenticate it again to us, to seal 
 it, make it efficacious, secure its benefits to those for 
 whom it was made, and this is what the Gospel reveals 
 to us. 
 
 " Behold the Lamb of God which taketh away the 
 sin of the w r orld!" This is the sacrifice, — God's Lamb! 
 "This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased." 
 This is the acceptance of the sacrifice. ' ' God so loved 
 the world that he gave his only begotten Son." "The 
 Son of Man came to give his life a ransom for many." 
 This is the Love which ordains, and the Love which makes 
 the sacrifice. "The love of God shed abroad in our 
 hearts, through the Holy Ghost that is given unto us." 
 This is the Love in its blessed human consummation. 
 The Father's love, the Son's love, the Spirit's love — 
 Behold the love of God which passeth knowledge ! 
 
 A hint or two in regard to the wonderful suggest- 
 iveness of the Christian Doctrine of God's Incarnation 
 in Christ. "The Word was God." "The Word was 
 made flesh." How simple! how sublime! For ages 
 philosophy has busied itself w r ith the contradiction be- 
 tween Eternity and Time, attempting their reconcilia- 
 tion, and failing in that, denying either their reality, or 
 the possibility of their reconciliation. The Incarnation 
 silences this contradiction at once and forever. "Unto 
 us a child is born, unto us a Son is given ; and his 
 name shall be called the Mighty God, the Father of 
 Eternity." What a view does it give us of the Power 
 
288 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 of God ! He, who was in the form of God, and the 
 equal of God, empties himself: He whose life we call infi- 
 nite, because, in the poverty of thought and language, 
 we can not tell what it is, only that it is not finite, He 
 enters into the conditions and limitations of this little 
 life of ours, God can do that! What greater mani- 
 festation of power is conceivable? 
 
 What a revelation does this doctrine give us of the 
 Moral Life of God ! He who gives the law, appears 
 under the law. He whom all laws obey, becomes obe- 
 dient, even unto death. The King of all, is the serv- 
 ant of all, and reigns through serving. " Whosoever 
 will be chief among you, let him be your servant, even 
 as the Son of Man came not to be ministered unto, but 
 to minister." How many are these infinite contrasts we 
 find in the Incarnate Son of God, so wonderful and yet 
 so needful for the intellect, the conscience, the heart! 
 The Hearer of Prayer — the Man of Prayer! The 
 Author and Finisher of Faith. 
 
 Example of Faith : All victorious strength — the sym- 
 pathy of human tears ! Divine Blessedness — the Agony 
 of Blood ! The Glory of the Father — the Cross of 
 shame! The Fulness of the Godhead — the First-born 
 among many brethren ! 
 
 " Most human and yet most Divine 
 The flower of man and God." 
 
 Above all, who can measure the significance and 
 power of that great central fact in the Incarnate Life 
 of the Son of God, the atoning Sacrifice of Calvary? 
 Is there in the world any knowledge of the Purity and 
 Justice of God, of the exceeding sinfulness of sin, of 
 the inviolability of God's law, of the worth of the soul, 
 of the magnitude of redemption, of the immensity of 
 Divine Love? It comes from the cross. That which 
 makes sin a fact of such terrible import, is that the 
 
SERMONS. 289 
 
 Son of God must die to remove its guilt and power, 
 That which makes the Law divinely sacred, is that 
 Christ laid down his life to honor and to establish it. 
 That which makes holiness authoritative and supreme in 
 the realm of moral obligation, is the manifold sanction 
 which it receives from the dying obedience of the Sav- 
 ior. That which makes manhood of priceless worth, 
 is that its price was the blood of Golgotha. That 
 which invests life with awful solemnity, is that Christ 
 has entered into his struggles, and made victory pos- 
 sible. That which confers honor and immortality in 
 the imperishable deeds of self-sacrificing heroism, is 
 that they faintly reflect the deed and breathe the spirit 
 of him who sacrificed himself for the world. That 
 which makes Divine Love ineffably sweet and precious, 
 is that it comes to man through a gift which cost the 
 Father's heart infinitely. That which makes known to 
 us the intense reality and earnestness of the life of 
 God, is that its yearnings and purposes find their 
 divinest issue in the Cross. That which gives to the 
 history of our fallen humanity its divine solution, that 
 which makes its miserere anything but the wail of de- 
 lirium, that which makes its immortality aught but a 
 grand Perhaps, is the light of the Cross. 
 
 In the cross of Christ I glory, 
 
 Towering o'er the wrecks of time, 
 
 All the light of sacred story- 
 Gathers round His head sublime. 
 
XIII. 
 
 NOT RICH TOWARD GOD. 
 
 Luke 12: 16-21. "And he spake a parable unto them, saying: The ground 
 of a certain rich man brought forth plentifully. And he thought within himself, 
 saying: What shall I do, because I have no room where to bestow my fruits? 
 And he said, This will I do: I will pull down my barns and build greater; and 
 there will I bestow all my fruits and my goods. And I will say to my soul: Sou!, 
 thou hast much goods laid up for many years ; take thine ease, eat, drink, and be 
 merry. But God said unto him, Thou Fool : this night thy soul shall be required 
 of thee, then whose shall these things be which thou hast provided? So is he that 
 layeth up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward God." 
 
 "So is he" — such his condition, such the prospects 
 before him. Ruin stares him in the face. His invest- 
 ments are worthless. The hour is at hand when he will 
 lift up his eyes in a state of utter and eternal destitu- 
 tion. He thinks he is rich, and lo ! he is a beggar. — 
 He says to his soul, thou hast much goods laid up for 
 many years, and one night finds him stripped of every- 
 thing. There must have been a tremendous mistake 
 somewhere. How did he come to commit such a fatal 
 blunder? Christ explains the matter: "So is he that 
 layeth up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward 
 God." Not, observe, because he layeth up treasure, 
 but because he lays it up for himself. Not because he 
 is rich in fruits and goods, but because he is not rich 
 toward God. 
 
 Christ then does not prohibit all seeking after riches, 
 
 He does not forbid the acquisition of earthly property, 
 
 within certain limits, under certain conditions, and for 
 
 certain ends. He does not disapprove the efforts of 
 
 (29°) 
 
SERMONS. 29I 
 
 any to secure an independent competence, to make 
 provision for the future, against sickness, reverses, and 
 old age. He does not say that it is wrong to grow 
 rich, or that the rich cannot be saved, although he 
 does say that a rich man shall hardly enter into the 
 kingdom of heaven, and that it is easier for a camel to 
 go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man 
 to enter into the kingdom of God. And if Christ said 
 this, we may be sure he meant this. 
 
 Furthermore, if it was true when he said it, it is true 
 to-day. At the same time Christ does not blame men 
 for being rich, nor for becoming rich. It is not for 
 having this, that, or the other that he holds them 
 guilty, but for not having that which is indispensable : 
 not for seeking after other things, but for not seeking 
 first the kingdom of God, and His righteousness. That 
 which determines the right and wrong of the matter is 
 the motive, the end in view. Do you seek to become 
 rich toward God ? Then there is nothing which you 
 may not strive to acquire and to make your own. 
 "All things are yours." Do you lay up treasure for 
 yourself? God says to you, "Thou fool!" 
 
 The character of the rich man spoken of in the para- 
 ble, is by no means an uncommon one. There is 
 nothing said about him which requires us to suppose 
 that he was avaricious, that he was what men call a 
 miser. He does not seem to have been of a grasping 
 disposition. It does not appear that he cheated any- 
 body. He did not grind the poor, and wring his wealth 
 out of their sweat and groans — indeed it is not neces- 
 sary to suppose that in the pursuit of gain he put forth 
 any extraordinary degree of ardor and energy. He 
 seems to have been rather a happy-go-lucky — a lover 
 of ease, enjoyment, and good living. He was fortunate, 
 unexpectedly so. His ground brought forth plentifully, 
 
292 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 so that he had no room where to bestow his fruits. 
 Naturally he resolved to build new barns, and larger 
 ones, and. thereupon he seems to have been satisfied. 
 He was not consumed apparently with that feverish desire 
 for more, like the leech which can never say — enough. 
 He made up his mind to enjoy his unexpected pros- 
 perity. It was not his purpose either to hoard up his 
 riches, to brood over them, or to consume them in sol- 
 itary enjoyment. He meant to share them with others. 
 He was what the world calls a generous man, a good 
 fellow. He would fill his house with delicacies and 
 luxuries, load his table with the daintiest of dishes, and 
 the choicest of wines, and entertain his friends with 
 princely cheer, and one unceasing round of merry-mak- 
 ing. "Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many 
 years, take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry." 
 
 Such an one the world is ever inclined to judge 
 leniently. It admires him, it applauds him, it welcomes 
 him to its most favored circles; even when it blames 
 him it is so tenderly, with a tongue so sugared with flat- 
 tery, and with a look so evidently dazzled by the qual- 
 ities which it admires, as to leave it doubtful whether 
 after all its blame is not most eloquent of praise. And 
 this is the man whom God charges with folly. To this 
 pet of society, this favorite of fortune, revelling in riches 
 and luxury, bountifully dispensing hospitality, surround- 
 ing himself with all that can minister delight to sense, 
 taste, and sociability, God says — "Thou fool! this 
 night thy soul shall be required of thee, then whose 
 shall those things be which thou hast provided?" 
 
 Now it is true that Christ presents to us here a spe- 
 cial case, what we may call, perhaps, an extreme case. 
 He would put before us, in most startling light, the 
 folly of living even for a day, as though this life, this 
 world were all. He represents to us a man who is 
 
SERMONS. 293 
 
 taken away from his riches just as he is preparing to 
 enjoy them. The cup of his prosperity has just been 
 filled, he is just raising it to his lips, when it is dashed 
 from his hand by death. "This night thy soul shall 
 be required of thee." That one who was on the verge 
 of eternity, who had not another day to live, should 
 abandon himself to selfish enjoyment, was, indeed, the 
 height of folly. Most people would admit that, but is 
 that all you see in the case ? Was it simply the fact 
 that the shadow of death was already on his threshold 
 that made this man a fool? Did he show any more 
 folly in promising himself many years' enjoyment than 
 thousands of others all about him? Has any one here 
 a better right to say what he said, than he had ? Have 
 you a surer claim on the future? Is it any wiser in 
 you to neglect the acquisition of imperishable riches, 
 to put it off for a single day, than it was in him ? Ob- 
 serve — he did not promise himself endless enjoyment of 
 his possesions. What he said to his soul was: "Thou 
 hast much goods laid up for many years." He did 
 not say "forever." He knew there would be an end 
 of enjoying those things. We are at liberty to suppose, 
 at least, that he meant at some time to secure treasures 
 more lasting. 
 
 That time never came to him. It may never come 
 to you. Certain it is that to multitudes of those who 
 say: "I hope to be a Christian sometime," that some- 
 time never comes. God says to-day. For man to say 
 to-morrow, is unspeakable folly. 
 
 Well, suppose that this rich man had realized all the 
 enjoyment which he promised himself. Suppose that 
 instead of dying just as he was raising the cup to his 
 lips, he had drained it and had then died — would his 
 folly have been any the less? Would those many 
 years of luxurious pleasure have made an eternity of 
 
294 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 poverty any the more endurable? Would they not the 
 rather have made it more bitter and wretched? But, 
 you say, he might have repented ! The probabilities 
 are all against it. Think of it ! Ten or twenty years 
 of such living as he anticipated — what would have been 
 the result of it? It would have enfeebled his moral 
 constitution yet more ; it would have stupefied his 
 conscience, paralyzed his will, confirmed the power of 
 evil habit, crushed yet more completely all capacity for 
 earnest thought or endeavor, rendered infinitely more 
 difficult the task of bursting the fetters of sense, of 
 shattering the power of the world, of breaking with 
 the past, of giving up the present, and of laying hold 
 on Eternal Life. 
 
 While the means of enjoyment lasted, think you that 
 he would have stopped his career? When these were 
 gone, and with them, perhaps, the capacity of enjoy- 
 ment, think you that in that vacant sense of desolation 
 that would have followed, in that dreary torpor, that 
 bitter exhaustion, that writhing of the heart which 
 succeeds a career of self-indulgence, there would have 
 been much power or disposition left for anything bet- 
 ter? Oh, it is a great mistake — unspeakable folly to 
 promise to God the last remnant of your life, the fag- 
 end of your manhood, when, perhaps, there will not 
 be enough left to make a change possible. 
 
 Or suppose that instead of abandoning himself to an 
 epicurean life, he had devoted himself to business, to 
 the pursuit of gain or power, had entered on a public 
 career, had bought more land, or solicited honors or 
 preferments, and served himself in that way, would he 
 have shown much more wisdom? Some things, it is 
 true, might be said in favor of such a life, which could 
 not be said in favor of mere pleasure. 
 
 We are supposing, however, that his motive, his pur- 
 
 
SERMONS. 295 
 
 pose is still as before a selfish one, that he simply laid 
 up treasure for self, without growing rich toward God. 
 Would he have been any the less a fool in the estimate 
 of God ? So long as a man is heaping up only perish- 
 able treasures does it make much difference what they 
 are? Diamonds or bits of common charcoal, does it 
 make much difference which, when the fire gets hold of 
 them ? But suppose, last of all, that the man instead of 
 being rich, had been in moderate circumstances, or even 
 poor, but had still been governed by the same spirit. 
 For it is not indispensable that a man should be rich in 
 order to be worldly. It is not money of itself, nor the 
 making of money of itself, that produces selfishness. 
 A miserly heart often lives in a lean purse. A self-in- 
 dulgent will may lurk under a tattered coat, as well as 
 under purple and fine linen. If the man then, of whom 
 Christ speaks, had only desired to be rich, without 
 actually becoming such, if he had only coveted money, 
 without getting much of it, if he had set his highest 
 affections on the world, without acquiring a great deal 
 of it, would he not have incurred the stern condemna- 
 tion of God just the same ? The man who loves the 
 world supremely, whether he gets much or little of it, 
 the man who lives only in the present, whose best life 
 is that which now is, who, when death strips him of 
 the things of time, has nothing left him, who, when he 
 is left alone with God, has nothing in God that he can 
 call his own, that man God calls a fool. He has delib- 
 erately refused or carelessly neglected to secure the 
 only true riches, and when his soul is required of him 
 he parts from his all. 
 
 The lesson taught by these words of Christ then is 
 not for a few, not for a class, but for us all. It is for 
 the poor as well as for the rich, for the unsuccessful as 
 well as for the prosperous, for the man of business as 
 
296 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 well as for the devotee of pleasure, for him who expects 
 a long life, as well as for him from whom death can not 
 be far off; for every one who is in danger of choosing 
 the transitory for the eternal, the corruptible for the 
 imperishable, earth for God. And who is not in danger 
 of making this choice ? We know it to be folly, and 
 yet how easily we fall into it ! For consider how near 
 these things of time seem to ourselves. They lie at our 
 feet, at our fingers' ends, all about us. They seem so 
 near to us that that which lies beyond can only be reached 
 apparently by breaking through them, or thrusting them 
 from us : — seem near, I say : — but after all they are far 
 off: although v/e touch and feel and handle them every 
 day, there is still an immeasurable distance between them 
 and us, as there is between the perishable and the 
 Eternal, for nothing is near to the soul of man which it 
 can not take up into itself, and make a part of itself. 
 
 And yet the fact that they do seem so near to us prompts 
 us continually to reach forth our hands to grasp them, as 
 children stretch out their hands to clutch at the moon, 
 which seems so near, but which is yet so far. And be- 
 cause these worldly treasures seem so near to us, so they 
 seem also much easier to get : — seem, I say here again : 
 for in truth nothing is harder to get, nothing is so hard 
 to make our own : nay, we can not make them ours 
 fully and forever: no one ever has made them his: no 
 one ever will make them his : a man may have a legal 
 right to them which none will dare dispute, he may 
 brood over them day and night, he may use them in 
 every possible way, and get out of them all the profit 
 and utility there is in them, and still they won't be his, 
 for nothing is truly mine which I can not in some way 
 make a part of myself, and treasure up in the very 
 core of my being, and I can treasure nothing up there 
 which is not Godlike, which has not some affinity to 
 
SERMONS. 297 
 
 the life, the will, the heart of God. For the soul of a 
 man's soul is the life of God within him. If that life 
 be wanting the man is dead. It is only when you have 
 laid aside one after another, the folds which envelop 
 the life, the sensations, experiences, opinions, feelings, 
 habits, all the accretions which gather about you from 
 without, only when you have pierced to the center, to 
 the spirit, and only when in that spirit you find the 
 Spirit of God, that you find your true self. Nothing 
 will endure then, nothing will be yours forever which 
 you can not make a part of the life of God in the soul. 
 The man who has the Spirit of God dwelling within 
 him, in whom a Divine life is the essential life of his 
 manhood, who in all his acquirements enlarges and en- 
 riches that life, who ever lives in God and for God, 
 a life of sympathy, communion and co-operation with 
 God, that man is rich, and he alone. That man is wise 
 and he alone. He has that which death can not take 
 away from him, which he can carry into eternity, and 
 to which he can add and add forever. He who is without 
 this has nothing, and for him death is loss, eternity is 
 endless bankruptcy and beggary. ' ' To him that hath 
 shall be given, and he shall have more abundantly, and 
 from him that hath not shall be taken away even that 
 he hath." The one layeth up treasure toward God and 
 is rich, the other layeth up treasure for himself, and is 
 poor. 
 
 The question then is, what is our treasure ? How do 
 we lay it up ? What are we living for ? What is the 
 life we are living ? Ask your own heart, my hearer, these 
 questions. There are not a few, I suppose, in this com- 
 munity, as in every other, who live for money. You 
 are one of these perhaps. If you are honest with your- 
 self, this is the answer which comes from your heart: 
 "I am living to make money." At least that is the 
 
298 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 case at this present time. It may not be so always, you 
 think, but it is so, you admit, now. Money is the most 
 desirable acquisition which you can make just now. 
 You have been carried along by the current, you have 
 taken your place in the arena of competition. You are 
 doing just what the rest who are about you -are doing. 
 As a business man you are constrained by the necessi- 
 ties of your position, by a feeling of personal pride, by 
 the influence of the atmosphere which you are daily 
 breathing, by the interests of your family, and by other 
 influences to devote all your energies to the purposes 
 in which you are engaged, and to the immediate end 
 which you have in view. Without examining now in 
 detail the life which you are living, without considering 
 your manner of conducting your business, or the business 
 itself, or the amount of time which you devote to it, let 
 us admit in general that so far there is nothing absolutely 
 wrong about your v/ay of life. Business is legitimate, 
 of course. Skill, enterprise, success in business are le- 
 gitimate objects of ambition. But the question is, what 
 is all this for ? Where does it all end ? All this plan- 
 ning, toiling, driving, what does it come to? It puts 
 money into your purse, does it put anything in your 
 soul ? It procures for yourself and your family more of 
 the comforts, it may be of the luxuries, of life, it adds 
 to your influence and consideration in the community, 
 it enables you to respond more honorably and worthily 
 to the appeals which are made to your liberality and 
 public spirit — and — is that all? Oh! brother — that 
 should not be all. There ought to be more — infinitely 
 more than that. When you and your money part com- 
 pany, when you are taken away from all that it has 
 gathered around you, when money can do nothing 
 for you, — what then ? When the life which you 
 are now living stops, as stop it must,— what then? 
 
SERMONS. 299 
 
 What will you have, what can you do, in what can you 
 take pleasure in a world where the only business known 
 is the service of God, where the only riches that are 
 worth anything are the rewards of that service ? 
 
 There is such a thing as serving God in business. 
 "You can not serve God and Mammon," but you can 
 constrain Mammon, you can compel the world into the 
 service of God. There is such a thing as making 
 money, not for self, but for God, and that is the only 
 way to get out of money whatever good there is in it. 
 The man who lives to God is the only man who can 
 make the most of all that God gives him. The man 
 who says of himself — " I am God's! " and who says of 
 everything that he has and of everything that he gets 
 — "This is God's," and who says of everything which 
 he does — "I am doing God's work:" he is the only 
 man whose life can be anything but a failure, a total 
 loss. If business is making your heart better, if your 
 daily pursuits are ennobling your manhood, deepening, 
 enlarging, enriching the life of God within, if in forming 
 all your plans and carrying out all your enterprises, you 
 are acting as God's steward, as Christ's agent, if you re- 
 joice in every success which crowns your plans, and in 
 every acquisition that you make, because you will be 
 able to do more for God. If you are so living that you 
 have reason to believe that God is preparing, training 
 you for a higher life hereafter — then you are growing 
 rich toward God : — then when you part from your 
 money you will lose nothing, for you still have and will 
 carry with you into eternity all the spiritual good that 
 the acquisition and use of money could bring you, all 
 those holy habits and devout dispositions, all that conse- 
 cration of spirit ; all that community of heart and life with 
 God, which when perfected and glorified make heaven. 
 
 If, on the other hand, you are laying up money for 
 
300 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 yourself, if you are seeking and using it only for self- 
 gratification ; if you are investing it only in fleeting en- 
 joyments, in things which are good only for time, you 
 are laying up for yourself eternal poverty. "He that 
 soweth unto the flesh," he that liveth unto self— 
 "shall of the flesh reap corruption," he shall find all 
 his labors resulting in rottenness, ' i but he that soweth 
 to the spirit shall of the spirit reap life everlasting." 
 
 Let us just glance at some of the other ends for 
 which many of you are living, treasures, perhaps, of a 
 less earthly character, which you regard as more valu- 
 able, and which you fondly hope may prove more last- 
 ing than silver and gold. Take, for example, esteem, 
 good will, the praise of others. This is an object which 
 may be legitimately sought after, and it has two uses. 
 One is to please the recipient, to gratify his feelings, to 
 increase his individual happiness; the other is to make 
 him watchful over his character, to incite him to render 
 himself worthy of the respect and praise of others, to 
 confirm and encourage him in the right, to be a wit- 
 ness to the approbation of God. If, now, a man seeks 
 praise only for its former uses, only for the present self- 
 gratification which it ministers, he seeks that which is 
 perishable. Think of that man's life! You feel at 
 once there can be nothing solid about it. The man 
 who does everything only to be seen and to be praised 
 of men, is far from being the most admirable character, 
 judging even by the standard of the world. His life 
 is a perpetual compromise with popular favor. It is a 
 standing bid for applause. His character is mere var- 
 nish. His virtues are hollow plausibilities. There is 
 nothing in him that will stand the trial, nothing heroic, 
 nothing Christlike, nothing that will bear the mockery, 
 the spitting, the crown of thorns > the shame of the 
 cross. The world may speak highly of him, society 
 
SERMONS. 3d 
 
 may flatter him, history even may trumpet his praise, 
 and — verily, he hath his reward. But there is a higher 
 court, which judges not according to appearance, a 
 judge who requires truth in the inward parts, who de- 
 mands the love of right as right, who enjoins devotion 
 to truth, virtue, holiness, for their own sake, who 
 honors only those who honor Him, and who seeks first 
 his glory. When that man appears at the bar of Eter- 
 nity in presence of the Searcher of Hearts, what will 
 he have to show? What honor remain for him whom 
 God dishonors ? What sweetness in the praise of the 
 universe to him w T hom God condemns ? 
 
 On the other hand, if a man does good because he 
 loves it, if he does right to please God, after doing it 
 with his right hand, when his left knows nothing about 
 it, if he values esteem and honor from others as a 
 ground of encouragement in well-doing, if he prizes 
 the approbation of society as an earnest of the appro- 
 bation of God, if he receives praise, not as incense to 
 his vanity, but as a tonic to his conscience, if he re- 
 joices in the favor of men as an element and a token of 
 further influence over them for good, then he has a 
 treasure which will never leave him. 
 
 Take a life of intellectual acquisition, a life devoted 
 to the accumulation of knowledge, the study of truth. 
 Is not this, you ask, a treasure which will endure ? It 
 undoubtedly has an element of greater permanence 
 than some other treasures which men seek after, but 
 whether it will endure forever, depends still on the 
 question : Is it sought for and possessed in the law of 
 God? Is it made a part of the deep inner spiritual life 
 of the heart ? Does it contribute to the development 
 of God's image within? Knowledge may make proud. 
 It may petrify the heart. It may turn the soul's honey 
 
302 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 into gall. As (Byron's) Manfred exclaims : They who 
 know the most 
 
 "Must mourn the deepest o'er the fatal truth 
 The Tree of Knowledge is not that of Life." 
 
 Knowledge is power, to be sure, but it may be the 
 power of a devil. The true significance of knowledge 
 is reached when you find what God thinks and means 
 in everything. The true use of knowledge is not real- 
 ized until it puts you in line with God. What after 
 all makes the true, the highest pleasure of a life of 
 intellectual acquisition? It is the discovery of truth, 
 of reality, of things as they are, of Being, that Being 
 whose Alpha and Omega, whose center and circum- 
 ference is God: — it is the apprehension of Law, of 
 God's will, making known his Infinite Wisdom; it is 
 the perception of beauty, of the presence and inspira- 
 tion of the living Spirit of God; it is the practical 
 application, and above all, the benevolent use of prin- 
 ciples and laws in their moral significance and power to 
 advance the coming of his kingdom, who is the truth 
 and the life. Take away these elements of enjoyment in 
 the pursuit of knowledge, and what have you left that 
 is worth cherishing one hour? 
 
 You will say perhaps that one may take pleasure in 
 truth considered simply in its abstract intellectual rela- 
 tions. Let us grant that. But you must also grant 
 that truth so considered is limited. Take away from 
 truth its divine aspirations, its significance as the medium 
 of communication between God and man, between spir- 
 itual realities and the mind, separate it from its moral 
 instincts and results, and somewhere you will find an 
 end to it. In a soul that is insensible to spiritual beauty 
 and perfection which is the reflection of God's glory, 
 the motives to the pursuit of truth must sooner or later 
 lose their power. I say then, that such a soul cannot 
 
 
SERMONS. 303 
 
 make permanent progress. There is a point beyond 
 which it either cannot, or will not go. And what then? 
 Of what value will all previous acquisitions be, when 
 the mind can no longer use them as stepping-stones to 
 aught higher, when it can no longer delight in them ? 
 Will they not be a burden ? Will it not say — Let them 
 perish! Nay, will they not perish for that mind? Here 
 also will that fearful curse come to pass — " Whosoever 
 hath not, from him shall be taken away even that he 
 hath." 
 
 Take as an illustration the physical sciences, the 
 study of nature, so justly popular in our day. Here 
 there is doubtless an immense field for research, yet it 
 is not illimitable. Say that there is occupation here for 
 the mind through countless aeons — but there is an end 
 somewhere. Nature is not infinite. Robert Browning, 
 in one of his most remarkable poems, that entitled 
 Easter-day, describes the experiences of one who has 
 chosen this world, "Earths exquisite treasures of wonder 
 and delight," for his all. At first his soul is filled with 
 rapture, but he finds ere long that there is all the time 
 something wanting. The vastest science is finite after 
 all. He is ever haunted by the feeling that all he sees 
 and knows is but the shadow of something infinitely 
 more glorious. He has knowledge, it is true — but the 
 question, "Whereto does Knowledge serve?" burns his 
 eyes at every step, until at last he cries out in des- 
 pair, "I let the world go and take Love," and a voice 
 from the eternities reminds him that all the time he 
 was striving to satisfy himself with mere knowledge, 
 that love for which his soul hungered was all about 
 him. Its mightiness was entwined round about all the 
 power and beauty of the earth. 
 
 ' ' Love lay within it, and without 
 To clasp thee but in vain. Thy soul 
 Still shrank from him who made thee whole. " 
 
304 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 My hearers, seek that love now which is reaching 
 forth to embrace you. Lay up your treasures, your 
 love in that Love ! Your affections, your friendship, 
 your household loves and joys — these are your treasures, 
 and these you fondly hope may endure. Ah! you 
 cannot bear to think that these should perish. You 
 cannot bear to dream of them as a mere memory, a 
 thing of the past. You look into those bright and lov- 
 ing eyes that leap to meet you, your soul thrills to the 
 music of those sweet familiar voices, which daily greet 
 you, your heart yearns toward the kindred heart that 
 shares its deepest, most sacred life, you think of the 
 departed, of the sound of a voice that is still, and you 
 feel that love must be immortal, that true affection will 
 never die. You would fain say : 
 
 Love strikes one hour. — Love ! those never loved, 
 Who dream that they loved once. 
 
 Yes, my friend, God made love for immortality. 
 Eternity has its friendships — oftentimes earth's friendships 
 but transplanted, ineffably transfigured and glorified. 
 Heaven has its loves, its affections, its purely human 
 love — the beginnings of which were here, the consum- 
 mate beauty, the perfect sweetness of which is there, 
 for is not heaven the best of earth made infinitely bet- 
 ter? Do they not point to heaven then here? Did 
 not our Elder Brother have his bosom friend ? They 
 have their lower, their earthly uses indeed. They min- 
 ister to our present gratification ; they contribute to our 
 personal comfort; they soften the roughness of life's 
 journey ; they refresh the wearied spirit ; they promote 
 material prosperity, intellectual and social culture. But 
 is that all they were given for ? Ah, no ! They were 
 given to redeem humanity from its selfishness, to bring 
 the soul into sympathy with heavenly affections, to 
 
SERMONS. 305 
 
 attune it to spiritual joys, to create sources and supplies 
 of holy living, to open fountains of pure and regenerat- 
 ing influence, to be channels for divine nurture, to edu- 
 cate hearts in the love of God, to train them for the 
 endless future, to anticipate heaven below. Friends, 
 are your affections, your friendships, your social life, 
 your home loves, consecrated to these ends? Sons and 
 daughters, brothers, sisters and friends, are these fondly 
 cherished ties of life, for the sake of which you cling to 
 the thought of immortality, are they made lasting by 
 union with him who says, ' ' If a man abide not in me, 
 he is cast forth as a branch and is withered, and men 
 gather them and cast them into the fire, and they are 
 burned"? Or do you profess to live for humanity, to 
 love your neighbor as yourself, to serve your age? 
 Let me ask you is Christ in your love? Is the cross 
 in your service, with all its hatred of sin, with all its 
 sacrifice of self, with all its consecration to the glory of 
 God ? If you would have in your life a power that will 
 make it immortal, get all you can of Christ into it. If 
 you would have a treasure that will endure, make God 
 your chief good. Make his will your highest law, his 
 glory your supreme inspiration. Live to God and all 
 things are yours. Be what God loves. Do what God 
 loves, and you need not trouble yourself about your 
 having and your getting. 4 ' A man's life consisteth not 
 in the abundance of the things which he possesseth." 
 No ! it is not money, nor what money can bring, not 
 the world nor what the world can minister, not knowl- 
 edge, not fame, not pleasure, not power,— but life that 
 you want. 
 
 11 'Tis life whereof our nerves are scant, 
 More life and fuller that we want," 
 
 and that you can find only in an indwelling, inspiring 
 Christ. " I am come that they might have life and that 
 
300 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 they might have it more abundantly." Seek first then 
 the Kingdom of God and his righteousness, and not only 
 will all other things be added to you now, but hereafter 
 nothing that is worth having will be taken away from 
 you. 
 
XIV. 
 
 PRAYER. 
 
 Luke 6 : 12. "And it came to pass in those days that he went out into a mountain 
 to pray, and continued all night in prayer to God." 
 
 This is but one of many passages in which mention 
 is made of Christ praying. Indeed these passages are 
 so numerous that it would seem as though the Holy 
 Spirit desired to call special attention to the fact that 
 Christ while on this earth did pray, and to impress the 
 fact indelibly on our minds. There is also a manifest 
 purpose to impress on our minds this other fact that 
 Christ not only prayed, but was earnest, constant, dili- 
 gent in prayer. It was not something unusual, extra- 
 ordinary. It was not a spiritual luxury in which he 
 indulged only at rare intervals. It was a constant 
 habit ; as much a part of his soul's life, as breathing 
 of the life of his body. 
 
 There are many interesting facts in connection with 
 Christ's prayers, which it would be profitable for us to 
 consider. It would be interesting to look at the cir- 
 cumstances in which they were offered. Sometimes — 
 most often, doubtless, he prayed in solitude. "And 
 when he had sent the multitude away, he went up into 
 a mountain apart to pray ; and when evening was 
 come, he was there alone." At other times he en- 
 gaged in social prayer. "And it came to pass about 
 eight days after these sayings, he took Peter, and 
 
 (307) 
 
308 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 John, and James, and went up into a mountain to 
 pray." What prayer meetings were those? Who of 
 us has not said, " Would that I had been there ? " We 
 learn that he withdrew to pray before engaging in 
 some important work, as before choosing his Apostles. 
 Again he retired for prayer after some miraculous ex- 
 hibition of his power, as after the feeding of the mul- 
 titude with a few loaves and fishes. And, again he is 
 represented as praying in the midst of his labors, as 
 when in the midst of his discourse to the Jews, he sent 
 up a petition to the Father, and the voice of the Father 
 was heard in answer, so that some thought it had thun- 
 dered, and others that an angel had spoken to him. 
 He prayed for himself. "Who in the days of his flesh 
 when he had offered up prayers and supplications with 
 strong crying and tears unto him that was able to save 
 him from death, and was heard in that he feared." 
 He prayed for others. And the Lord said, "Simon, 
 Simon, behold Satan hath desired to have you that he 
 may sift' you as wheat. But I have prayed for thee that 
 thy faith fail not." "I pray for them — neither pray 
 I for these alone, but for them also which should be- 
 lieve on me through their word." He prayed in the 
 agony of the garden. He prayed in the glory of the 
 transfiguration. He commanded men always to pray. 
 He taught us how to pray and what to pray for. He 
 gave us an example of prayer. 
 
 But the subject I wish more especially to consider 
 now is the nature and value of prayer itself, as it stands 
 forth revealed to us in the life of Christ ; the meaning, 
 the power, the worth of prayer as signified to us by 
 the fact that Christ v/as a Man of Prayer. The im- 
 portance of prayer as an element of the spiritual life 
 cannot be overestimated. The many exhortations and 
 encouragements to pray contained in the word of God, 
 
 
SERMONS. 3O9 
 
 and the universal experience of God's people in all 
 ages, and in all circumstances, demonstrate that prayer 
 is a necessity of true religion, an essential function of 
 its vitality. As much as on any one thing, the pros- 
 perity of the spiritual life depends on earnestness and 
 faithfulness in prayer. And a man's estimate of that 
 life in its breadth, its obligations, and its privileges 
 may be indicated almost infallibly by the estimate 
 which he places on the necessity, the value, the power 
 of prayer. Every consideration, therefore, which ele- 
 vates and enlarges this estimate, cannot help prov- 
 ing eminently useful, if rightly applied. And I know 
 of no consideration which so 'highly exalts the dig- 
 nity of this duty as its observance by Christ. In- 
 deed one of the grand results accomplished by the 
 incarnation of the Love of God, has been the exalta- 
 tion of every duty, of every virtue, of every holy feel- 
 ing and holy deed, to a dignity which it could never 
 have reached had it been left to human performance 
 alone. If we wish to measure human duties and 
 human virtues at their highest and their best, we must 
 measure them by the standard to which Christ has 
 raised them. We have scarcely known them until we 
 know them in his life. Let us look at Prayer then as 
 a part of the life of Jesus, and try to discover what we 
 may learn by so regarding it. 
 
 And first consider the testimony which the prayers 
 of Jesus furnish to the intrinsic efficacy of prayer, or 
 the reality of prayer as a power influencing God. This 
 conception of prayer is one that is altogether repugnant 
 to the spirit of unbelief. That view of man which de- 
 nies his all-sufficiency in himself, which inculcates his 
 entire dependence upon God, arouses the pride of man 
 to the bitterest opposition. That view of prayer which 
 most completely and absolutely recognizes this depend- 
 
310 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 ence is rejected with scorn. Speculative difficulties and 
 scientific objections are urged against it. God — it is said 
 — is perfect ; self-containing and self-contained, self-suf- 
 ficient and self-energizing: all his motive powers are 
 within. He can not be moved from without. If he 
 could he would not be perfect. How can the finite in- 
 fluence the Infinite ? Moreover, God's plan is perfect. 
 His will is unchangeable. His laws, the laws of nature, 
 the expressions of his will, are inflexible, because per- 
 fect. Man change God's plan? Man by his prayers 
 interfere with the operations of his laws ? The thought 
 is folly. Special providences, special answers to prayer 
 are an absurdity, an impossibility. 
 
 Listen to the latest exposition of the theory, given 
 by one who is justly admired for the brilliancy of his 
 scientific speculations and the glowing eloquence in 
 which they are set forth, but for whom we can not help 
 regretting that on this point, at least, he did not al- 
 low faith to teach him what science has failed to under- 
 stand. "A miracle," he tell us, "is strictly defined 
 as an invasion of the law of the conservation of en- 
 ergy. To create or annihilate matter would be deemed 
 on all hands a miracle. The creation or annihilation of 
 energy would be equally a miracle to those who un- 
 derstand the principle of conservation. Hence arises 
 the skepticism of scientific men when called upon to 
 join in national prayer for changes in the economy of 
 nature. But while prayer is thus impotent in external 
 nature, it may react with beneficent power upon the 
 human mind. That prayer produces its effect, benign 
 or otherwise, on him who prays, is not only as indu- 
 bitable as the law of conservation itself, but it will prob- 
 ably be found to illustrate that law in its ultimate ex- 
 pansion." 
 
 Is this all? Is this the last word of science on the 
 
 
SERMONS. 3 1 1 
 
 sweetest, divinest exercise of the soul, on this delight- 
 ful privilege of prayer, that it is only the ultimate ex- 
 pansion of the law of conservation? 
 
 Is prayer a power for no other reason than this, that 
 no particle of force can be lost, that the energy which 
 goes forth in prayer, although it has no power to move 
 God, or his Laws, reacts on him who prays, and thus 
 is saved? What a petty, pitiable conception! Ah! ye 
 who worship at the shrine of nature, ye who pay your 
 cold and formal homage to Fate, to Law, as ye call it, 
 think you that with the Bible in our hands, with God's 
 exceeding great and manifold and precious promises 
 spread out before us, with all the manifestations which 
 he has given of himself as the Hearer of Prayer, with 
 all the urgent invitations which he addresses to us to 
 plead with him, and to importune his power and com- 
 passion, with all the evidences which the experience 
 of believers and the history of the church furnish of 
 special answers to prayer, we can take up with this 
 miserable pretense, this mocking of true prayer ? For 
 what is prayer on the theory just mentioned but mock- 
 ery, God and man playing a part? Prayer to God? 
 There is no such thing on such a theory. It is prayer 
 to self. God is but a blank wall against which the 
 prayer is projected that it may rebound to him who 
 sends it forth. " Draw nigh to God and he will draw 
 nigh to you," says the Blessed Book. Yes, there is a 
 reciprocal movement of God and his child in true prayer, 
 each drawing to the other. But according to this phi- 
 losophy, falsely so called, the diviner half of this pre- 
 cious truth, that which teaches that God really responds 
 to prayer, and is drawn by it, is a mere delusion. How 
 then can I pray to God ? The very soul of true prayer, 
 truth, earnestness, simplicity, trustful communion of 
 heart with heart, is gone. When I truly pray I believe 
 
312 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 that God hears me : I believe that he will answer me : 
 I take his promise just as it is, as meaning all that it 
 says, yea, and more than I can comprehend it to say or 
 to mean. I use it not as the gymnast uses his rings 
 and ropes to strengthen his muscles, but as a power to 
 move God. I believe that it does move the Heart of 
 my Father in Heaven, and that every attribute of his 
 Godhood is at the service of his Son to answer my 
 prayer. If in all this I am mistaken then I can not 
 pray ; I will not pray. I will not mock the Infinite 
 One with words which have no meaning. If I can not 
 pray to him, I will not pray through him to myself. If 
 he is not to be moved by my entreaties, I will not de- 
 grade him to be the dead inert mechanism by means 
 of which I accomplish my spiritual exercises. 
 
 What I want is not the reaction of my own soul from 
 an Infinite vis Inertia which I call God, but the action 
 of God on my soul. But let us turn from these super- 
 ficial speculations of men, to the words and life of the 
 Son of God. And first, his words. Look at the 
 model of prayer which he has given us. Does that 
 look like a charm, an incantation, to be muttered over 
 for the sake of its reactive influence ? The petition — 
 " Give us day by day our daily bread," does that mean 
 anything ? Does God really give us our bread ? Do 
 we not get it by the observance of physical and social 
 laws? Is there any need of asking for it? Is not 
 praying that he would give us our daily bread interfer- 
 ing with the fixed irreversible laws of nature, the law 
 of conservation of force, and what not, fully as much as 
 praying for any other material or spiritual good ? 
 
 Not only that, but Christ exhorts us to importunity 
 in prayer. He encourages us to believe that the 
 Infinite Friend we have in heaven can be prevailed 
 upon by the urgency of our pleadings, that he will 
 
SERMONS. 313 
 
 yield to human importunity, and grant what he would 
 not have granted without it. Does not that imply a 
 power in prayer beyond its power on the man himself 
 who utters it ? Did he not tell his Disciples that 
 prayer had power to cast out devils, those even which 
 would not depart from men when commanded to do so 
 in the name of Christ ? Were they not to pray that 
 their flight from the calamities impending over the 
 nation should not be in the winter nor on the Sabbath 
 day? Does not that pre-suppose the power and the 
 willingness on the part of God, to dispose of the events 
 of life in answer to prayer ? 
 
 Did he not say to Peter, that if he desired, he might 
 obtain through prayer more than twelve legions of 
 angels to deliver him out of the hands of the Jews? 
 Would not that have been a miracle, what the mate- 
 rialism of to-day would call an impossibility? So much 
 for the test of Christ's words. But more than all, 
 look at his example. Remember how diligently and 
 earnestly he prayed ; how he was wont to go forth, 
 
 " Beneath the moonlight, through the lines 
 Of trembling olive leaves, to where the path 
 Came sudden out upon the open hill ; 
 Then he stood waiting till the flame from heaven 
 Lighted upon the inward sacrifice 
 Of thoughts most pure, and then the holy words 
 Came musically forth upon the night, 
 More sweet than tinkling Kedron on the pipe 
 Of distant nightingale ; or on the cliff 
 Above the tossing lake He prayed and stood, 
 And through the flight of jarring elements 
 Came unimpeded gliding swiftly down, 
 From the Father's hand a healing drop of peace 
 Upon his wounded soul. On mountain heights 
 All the mid-hours of night, with serried crags 
 Towering in the moonlight overhead, 
 And through a channeled dell stretching away, 
 The plains of Galilee seen from afar, 
 Till morn alone he prayed — whether the cup 
 Of self-determined suffering passed athwart 
 His forward vision and the Father's wrath 
 
314 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 Upon his human soul pressed heavily, 
 Or for the welfare of his chosen flock 
 He wrestled in an agony of prayer, 
 That their faith fail not." 
 
 Were not these prayers realities? Was he simply 
 playing a part in them ? When in Gethsemane, ' ' being 
 in an agony, he prayed more earnestly," was he but 
 going through certain forms of devotion, that his soul 
 might become purer, stronger, more resigned? When 
 he prayed with supplications, aye, with strong suppli- 
 cation and with tears, yea with tears of blood, was 
 there in his prayer nothing more than that which mate- 
 rialism finds in prayer? Ah! did not his whole soul 
 grapple with the throne of omnipotence ? Did not his 
 whole being wrestle with God ? And when he was 
 heard in that he feared, did not he feel that prayer is a 
 power with God? 
 
 This then is the conclusion to which we must come 
 with the life and words of Christ before us; God is 
 moved by prayer. Christ believed this, and we believe 
 in Christ. We do not believe that there is anything 
 in this truth which is in the least contradictory to true 
 science. We only say, when one comes to us in the 
 name of science and tells us, ' ' Your idea of prayer is 
 unphilosophical and false" — we believe that Christ 
 knew what prayer is, as no other man has ever known; 
 We believe that whatever views he entertained of his 
 person, all must confess that no one ever drew nearer 
 to God than he, and that what Christ found in prayer 
 lies in prayer. And how full of consolation and inspi- 
 ration is this thought ! Prayer is the same for us as it 
 was for Christ. Yes, if we go to God in Christ, in the 
 name of Christ, in the faith of Christ, in the spirit of 
 Christ, we can pray to God with the power of Christ 
 in our prayer. 
 
 But, I remark, in the next place, that the prayers of 
 
SERMONS. 3 I 5 
 
 Christ acquire great significance when taken in connec- 
 tion with the fact that he himself heard and answered 
 prayer. 
 
 Because Christ was a man of prayer, it has been 
 argued he must have been less than God. He 
 could have been nothing more than man, nothing 
 more, at least, than a created being. What, then, shall 
 we say to the fact that he allowed himself to be prayed 
 to, that he heard prayer, prayer for temporal good, 
 prayer for spiritual good, prayer for sight, hearing, 
 health for the body, prayer for pardon, faith, life for 
 the soul? Can any one but God hear such prayers? 
 Would Christ, pure and truthful, as all confess him to 
 be, have stood in the place of God, and seemed to hear 
 prayer, being only man? 
 
 What shall we say, moreover, to this other fact, that 
 Christ not only heard prayer, but answered it ? " Who- 
 soever cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out." 
 No one ever did go to him without finding what he 
 sought. Men prayed to him for forgiveness, they ob- 
 tained it. They prayed for faith, they received it. 
 They prayed for peace, and their peace was like a river. 
 They prayed for Eternal Life, and it was given to them. 
 They prayed for those things which God alone can 
 give, and according to their faith it was done unto them. 
 In return they gave to him the homage and devotion 
 which God claims for himself, and Christ accepted it. 
 
 But how do you explain this, you say, that one and the 
 same being should both pray himself, and hear prayer? 
 We do not explain it. It belongs to the mystery of 
 Christ's personality ; for there is a mystery here, but it 
 is the one mystery which solves for us all the myste- 
 ries of life and eternity. In him are united in an in- 
 comprehensible manner, truths, powers, realities, so far 
 removed from each other, that they seem to be in oppo- 
 
3 l6 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 sition ; yet we can not dispense with any one of them ; 
 each is in itself precious and necessary ; and their union 
 in Christ gives us something still more precious and 
 glorious. 
 
 It is so here. Christ the Man of Prayer ! How we 
 cherish the thought ! Christ the God of Prayer ! 
 How we rejoice in that thought! And that it is the 
 same Christ who is both the one and the other, is there 
 not something unspeakably precious in that thought? 
 Think of it a moment. Behold a being who partakes 
 so far of the lowliness of our nature that he knows 
 what it is to yearn and to agonize in prayer — who at 
 the same time partakes so far of the exaltation of God, 
 that he knows what it is to dispense the gifts of God 
 to men in answer to prayer ! What a bond of union 
 between Omnipotence and weakness, between God's 
 throne and human want ! How does prayer itself 
 seem lifted up until it becomes itself almost Divine, 
 something akin to the Power and Love which reign 
 on high. 
 
 Think of this again. If the Son of God heard 
 prayer during the days of his humiliation, while he 
 himself was wont to offer prayer — how much more is 
 he the Hearer of Prayer now when he is exalted to 
 the right hand of God? If when he was as a root out 
 of dry ground, he had power on earth to forgive sins, 
 how much more now when the light of his presence 
 is the glory of heaven ? If when he himself was a man 
 of sorrows, and acquainted with grief, he could give 
 rest to the weary, and peace to the distressed, how 
 much more, now when the joys of Eternity and the 
 blessedness of the Father's bosom are his once more? 
 If while clothed with weakness and suffering, he could 
 minister strength to the faint, how much more now 
 when all power in heaven and on earth is in his hands ? 
 
SERMONS. 317 
 
 If on the accursed tree he could hear the prayer of 
 the dying malefactor, and assure him of Paradise, how 
 much more can he hear and save now, when he is 
 raised far above all principalities, and powers, and do- 
 minions? What encouragement to faith and to prayer 
 then does this thought bring us? 
 
 Let us consider again what the character of Christ as 
 a Man of Prayer suggests in regard to the dependence 
 of the spiritual life and of spiritual progress on prayer. 
 That prayer is indispensable to the culture and develop- 
 ment of the spiritual life is known to all who have 
 sought in sincerity to live such a life: its value as an 
 element of holiness and of spiritual power has been too 
 deeply felt by all such to be questioned. But how 
 greatly is its importance enhanced by the reflection that 
 even the spiritual life of Jesus, whose life was holiness 
 itself, was dependent on the power of prayer. 
 
 It is true that in some respects, the holiness of Jesus 
 was different from that which is possible to us. It was 
 spontaneous, perfect, infallible, it partook of the sanc- 
 tity of the Divine Life. But if Divine, it was also hu- 
 man. It partook in some respects at least of the growth 
 of his manhood. It was determined by the laws and 
 conditions of his human development. It was aided by 
 the means which God has ordered for the culture of 
 holy wisdom and power. Pre-eminent among these 
 means for him as for all others was prayer. By prayer 
 his heart was strengthened against temptation. By 
 using and pleading the Father's promises, his faith, his 
 trust in the Father was confirmed. By much frequent- 
 ing of the secret sanctuary the beauty of his holiness 
 was kept untarnished and undimmed. By constant 
 communion with the Father his zeal, his activity, his 
 love received ever new supplies of inspiration. None 
 has ever worked for God like Christ, for none has ever 
 
3 l8 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 prayed to God like him. And now was prayer all this 
 to Christ, and can it be nothing to you and me ? Did 
 he derive such great benefit from it, and can we dis- 
 pense with it ? We who are so full of sin, who live in 
 a world so full of temptation to wrong, whose hearts 
 are so susceptible to the influences of evil, who find it 
 so hard to trust in God, to believe in truth, to be ever 
 loyal to the right, to cherish a good thought when it 
 comes to us, to act on a right motive when it springs 
 up within us, to keep ourselves unspotted from the 
 world — can we do without prayer? And yet we who 
 need it so much more than Christ, how little we make 
 of it compared with him ! 
 
 But the character of Jesus as a Man of Prayer is still 
 further an important link in the bond of brotherhood by 
 which he is united to us. 
 
 This Jesus — this Saviour — this Friend — how truly he 
 is one of us ! — how truly he is our brother! Not only 
 did he learn as we learn, think as we think, feel as we 
 feel, talk as we do, share our lot, our infirmities, our 
 trials, rejoice with those who rejoiced, weep with those 
 that wept, but he also prayed as it is our privilege to 
 pray. Not altogether indeed as we do. We have to 
 pray for much for which he had no need to pray. He 
 had no confessions of sin to make. The cry for mercy, 
 the plea for pardon, the prayer for reconciliation never 
 went up from him. Here indeed the difference between 
 his prayers and ours is infinitely great. Sin over- 
 shadows our life here so much that our prayers here 
 are mainly an appeal to be delivered from it: and we 
 sometimes feel as though if we were only rid of sin 
 there would be no further need of prayer. But surely 
 this is a great mistake. Sin, alas ! contracts, impover- 
 ishes our prayers, as it does everything : and to be 
 under the necessity of using prayer, almost altogether 
 
SERMONS. 3 I 9 
 
 as a means of being healed from sin, is to be in the 
 condition of the sick man who uses all his time, his 
 propert}^, his skill and strength, all the joys and com- 
 forts of nature and of providence to get rid of his sick- 
 ness, when if he were only well he might use them all 
 to enlarge his powers and his joys to aid him in becom- 
 ing a more perfect man. Ah! if only we were well! 
 What enlargement, what powers, what enjoyment, 
 what life would be ours ! What prayers we should 
 offer ! Prayers for opportunities and blessings of which 
 we have no conception now! Could we but hear the 
 prayers of heaven! W T hat, you say, prayers in heaven? 
 Most assuredly. We shall no more see our Father 
 there than here. We shall be nearer to him, it is true; 
 but that will be in part because we shall be able to 
 pray to him more perfectly, to commune with him more 
 lovingly. We shall not be all the time looking on 
 Christ with the bodily eye, but we shall come nearer to 
 him also in prayer, and in the sweet intimacy of spir- 
 itual fellowship. Could we then only hear some of 
 those heavenly prayers ! — or better still — could we have 
 entered one of those holy shrines where Jesus was wont 
 to meet with the Father, and have heard him pray! 
 Then we should have known what it is to pray. — But, 
 why wish for this ? We have one of his prayers in this 
 dear Book — and oh! how we should thank the Holy 
 Spirit for it! one of his last prayers, offered up for his 
 beloved ones ! Ah ! my friends, this is enough, and 
 more than enough for us now. In this life we can no 
 more than just begin to understand this one outpouring 
 utterance of our Brother's heart, to decipher here and 
 there a character in which is traced that wondrous 
 mystery of Divine Majesty, Humility, Strength, Ten- 
 derness, Holiness, Love ! 
 
 Yet after all — think of it ! — how much do the prayers 
 
320 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 of Jesus have in common with our own ! The yearning 
 for sympathy, the longing for love, the expression of 
 trust, the utterance of resignation, the desire of good 
 for others, the prayer for the Divine blessing on his la- 
 bors, for strength to work and to suffer, the appeal for 
 help, yes, the cry of a soul in darkness, forsaken of 
 God, — all this is in his prayers. In all this we find our 
 Brother — in all he is our Fore-runner at the mercy- 
 seat. Ah ! yes, it is our privilege to come very near to 
 Christ in prayer. We sometimes wish that we might 
 visit those spots which were hallowed by his presence 
 on earth. Could we but gaze on the scene which once 
 met his eye, could we but tread reverently in his foot- 
 steps, we fancy we might draw nearer to him than we 
 have ever done yet. But we need not go to Palestine 
 for that. Bethlehem, Galilee, Nazareth, Bethany, Je- 
 rusalem, Olivet, Gethsemane, we might visit them all, 
 and be further off from Jesus than before. But before 
 our Father's throne — there we meet, there we embrace, 
 there his heart beats to ours. 
 
 " There is a place where Jesus sheds 
 The oil of gladness on our heads ; 
 A place than all besides more sweet, 
 It is the blood-bought mercy-seat." 
 
 Think then as you go to the mercy-seat, Christ has been 
 there before you ; as you speak the name Father, Christ 
 has spoken it before you; as you pray for consolation, 
 for light, for Divine aid, for the Father's blessing on 
 your labors and your sorrows, for the salvation and 
 prosperity of those you love, Christ has prayed for all 
 those things before you ; and if ever you 'have reason to 
 know that God has heard your prayer, rejoice in the 
 thought that the same heart which went out toward his 
 Son, is also going out in the fulness of its riches toward 
 you. 
 
SERMONS. 321 
 
 But still further: Christ himself was brought by his 
 prayers into closer sympathy with us. Not only 
 does the assurance of the fact that he was a man of 
 prayer, assist us to recognize, to trust and to love him 
 as a brother, but it was also one of the conditions and 
 constituents of his brotherhood and sympathy. Christ 
 became man that he might realize more intimately the 
 weaknesses and wants of his brethren. He can be 
 touched with the feelings of our infirmities. As it is 
 said that he learned obedience by the things which he 
 suffered, so it may be said that by his human experi- 
 ences he learned sympathy, and prayer was to him one 
 of the most precious of these experiences. Foras- 
 much as he was tried in all things like as we are, for- 
 asmuch as he prayed in so many things like as we 
 do, prayed to the same Father, in the same human 
 speech, out of the same sense of weakness and want, 
 for the same blessings, yes, prayed for us, as well as 
 with us, his love for us is something more than it would 
 have been without this fellowship of experience. There 
 is nothing which conserves human love like prayer. 
 Nothing which gives it a holier tone — a heavenly in- 
 spiration, which causes its sacredness to be more deeply 
 felt. The love which has never clung to the Throne of 
 Love, whose inmost soul is not a prayer, knows not 
 what it misses. Oh ! when the mother bears her child 
 to the mercy-seat, dedicates it to God with prayerful 
 love, she loves that child as she never did before, as she 
 never could have loved it otherwise. She loved it be- 
 fore as her own, she loves it henceforth as God's also, 
 and therefore more than ever her own ; for what we 
 give to God becomes doubly ours. My friends, if you 
 wish to make your love all that it can become, if you 
 wish it to attain the utmost beauty, tenderness, power 
 and perfection of which it is capable, convert it into 
 
322 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 prayer, take it to God, that he may seal it with his 
 smile. If you wish to give to the objects of your affec- 
 tion the best, the purest, the most lasting love, take that 
 love to God, leave it with God, commune with it in the 
 presence of God, pray it into the heart of God. 
 
 Pray your love ; thus you will deepen it, enlarge it, 
 strengthen it, exalt it continually. For thus did Christ. 
 His love was one which prayed for its objects. If you 
 would know how Christ loved his own, see how he 
 prayed for them. Read that memorable prayer which 
 the Beloved Disciple John has recorded for us in his 
 Gospel in the seventeenth chapter. See what things he 
 prayed for. "That they may be one in us: one, even 
 as we are one : that they may be with me where I am : 
 that they may behold my glory which thou hast given 
 me:" — and last of all and greatest of all : "that the 
 love wherewith thou hast loved me may be in them, 
 and I in them. " Yes, and he loved them through pray- 
 ing for them. His prayers were prayers of love: his 
 love was the love of prayer. And as on earth so in 
 heaven : which brings us to the final thought of this 
 discourse. 
 
 The prayers of Christ are valuable as an earnest of 
 his heavenly intercession on behalf of all who come to 
 God in his name. We may be sure Christ did not 
 cease to pray when he left earth. A work in which he 
 delighted so much while here, he will delight in while 
 there is any least need of it, any least good to be secured 
 by it, for the least of his brethren. While there is a 
 weary, struggling, hard-beset soul in need of strength 
 and comfort, Christ will pray for that soul. He prays 
 for each one whom he loves ; for is he not the Good 
 Shepherd, who knows and calls by name every one of 
 his flock ? 
 
SERMONS. 323 
 
 " The names of all his saints he bears 
 Deep graven on his heart." 
 
 You remember how he prayed for Peter. Foresee- 
 ing bis danger, the special trial which was about to 
 befall him, he prayed for a special blessing for him. 
 "I have prayed for thee, that thy strength fail not." 
 And if for one, why not for the rest, for John, James, 
 Thomas, Philip, for each and every one of them? 
 And if on earth, why not in heaven ? Is he not the 
 merciful and faithful High Priest who ever liveth to 
 make intercession ? And if for each one of his dis- 
 ciples, why not for each one of us ? 
 
 Yes, for me, for me he careth 
 
 With a brother's tender care ; 
 Yes, with me, with me he shareth 
 
 Every burden, every fear. 
 
 Yes, for me he standeth pleading 
 
 At the mercy seat above ; 
 Ever for me interceding, 
 
 Constant in untiring love. 
 
 Oh, for an interest in his intercession ; for a place in 
 his prayers ! Is this your desire, friends ? Then all 
 you have to do is to go to him, to trust in him, to lay 
 your wants, your cares, your sorrows at his feet, and 
 at once he will make them his own. He will take 
 your prayers, make them his own, and so present 
 them to the Father. Seek to come into sympathy 
 with him as the Man of Prayer, and you will find 
 yourself in communion with him as the God of prayer, 
 receiving of his fullness. Frequent that secret sanctuary 
 of devotion which Christ visited so constantly, and 
 you will inherit his peace and joy. 
 
 Your Father who seeth in secret will reward you 
 openly. 
 
XV. 
 
 CHRIST REVEALING THE FATHER. 
 
 John 14: 6. " No man cometh unto the Father but by me." 
 
 "Lord, show us the Father and it sufficeth us," was 
 the earnest and fervent appeal of one of Christ's dis- 
 ciples immediately after these words were uttered by 
 the Master. Ah ! how often has the cry gone up out 
 of the heart of humanity ! " Show us the Father ! " 
 after whom through all our misery and weakness we 
 reach, whose infinite love alone can satisfy us, show us 
 the Father and it is enough. We want no more. 
 Having found him we have found our All. But have 
 we not seen the Father? Do we not know at least 
 where to find him? "Show us the Father," said 
 Philip : and yet how near the Father was to him. 
 How strangely blind were Philip and his brethren. 
 1 ' Have I been so long time with you, and yet hast thou 
 not known me, Philip ? He that hath seen me hath seen 
 the Father." How then came Philip to ask the question ? 
 Evidently it was not enough to see Christ with the bodily 
 eye. To see the man Jesus, was not to see the Father, 
 for of the multitudes who did see him in Galilee, how 
 few saw the Father! Ah, there was a knowing of Jesus 
 which went beyond seeing Jiim. " If ye had known me, 
 ye should have known my Father also, and from hence- 
 forth ye know him and have seen him." 
 
 But Jesus says more than this to his disciples. Not 
 (324) 
 
SERMONS. 325 
 
 only is it true that he who hath known Jesus, hath 
 known the Father ; but, moreover, without knowing 
 Jesus, we cannot know the Father. "No man cometh 
 unto the Father but by me." No man findeth the 
 Father save in the Son. Had Christ never come into 
 the world, the race would have lost its Father, we 
 should have been orphans for evermore. 
 
 This seems to you, perhaps, difficult of belief, at 
 least of comprehension. It may seem to you, perhaps, 
 that it is only a more forcible and emphatic way of say- 
 ing that Christ has made it much easier to find the 
 Father, that in Christ much more of the Father is 
 visible than elsewhere. It may seem to you that there 
 is much outside of Christianity which tells us of the 
 Father, much which points to him in nature ; much 
 which reminds of him in Providence ; much which 
 bears witness to him in the heart. 
 
 But let me ask you to think how much these evi- 
 dences owe to the witness of Christ. You forget that 
 Nature, Providence, Experience, the world without you, 
 and the world within you, all stand revealed in the light 
 which shines from the sun of righteousness. 
 
 Christianity fills the air. You see through it; you 
 hear through it ; you feel through it. Infidelity itself 
 has something of this unconscious Christianity in it. 
 It is of a higher order than it would be otherwise. 
 That which, but for the coming of Christ, would have 
 been shadowy, confused, discordant, has through him 
 become clear, intelligible, and harmonious. He inter- 
 prets to you the mysterious hieroglyphics of nature, 
 the dark enigmas of Providence, the vague yearnings 
 of your own heart. 
 
 No ! these words of Jesus need no modification, no 
 extenuation. No man comes to the Father, no man 
 draws so near to God that he can say, ' ' I have found 
 
326 LLEWEYLN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 the Father," but by Christ. In the darkness into 
 which Christ has never shone, one may ask indeed, is 
 there not a Father? One may hope that there is a 
 Father; one may cast himself on the unknown God, 
 trusting blindly that he may fall into a Father's arm, 
 but it will be a leap in the dark ; no one has found the 
 Father, no one embraces him with loving confidence, 
 no one can know that the Highest to whom he clings 
 is indeed a Father, who has not known Christ, and who 
 is not in Christ, even as Christ is in the Father, and the 
 Father in him. 
 
 For consider how many and how great are the diffi- 
 culties in the way of our finding our Heavenly Father 
 without the help of Christ. 
 
 Take first the idea of God as it seems to lie originally 
 in the mind. Think of that mysterious being to whom 
 the soul looks up with anxious questioning, as He is in 
 Himself, or rather as our minds if left to themselves 
 would be constrained to think of him. Reflect on his 
 infinitude. Try to grasp the idea of a Being without 
 limitations. You cannot. The mind is lost in attempt- 
 ing it. And still you are constrained to believe in this 
 Infinitude. You are compelled to believe that there 
 must be a being, to whose nature and life you can set 
 no bounds, to whom there can be nothing beyond him- 
 self, nothing above himself, nothing without himself, 
 who is beset by no imperfections, to whom not only 
 nothing is impossible, but nothing is hard, obscure, re- 
 mote, who sees all things, who understands all things, 
 who can do all things, who holds all things within him- 
 self, who knows infinitely, who loves infinitely, who 
 enjoys infinitely, who is without beginning and without 
 end, from everlasting to everlasting. The longer you 
 meditate on his nature, the more you struggle to grasp 
 the secret of his personality, to comprehend the pleni- 
 

 SERMONS. 327 
 
 tude of his perfection, the more hopeless does the en- 
 deavor become, the more awful, the more inaccessible, 
 the more incomprehensible does he seem to you until 
 the idea of him haunts you as an Infinite Spectre, or 
 darkens it as the dread shadows of Eternity. 
 
 1 ' Behold the nations are as a drop of the bucket, and 
 are counted as the small dust of the balance, behold 
 
 he taketh up the isles as a very little thing 
 
 All nations before him are as nothing, and they are 
 counted to him less than nothing, and vanity." Com- 
 pared with his greatness the universe is an infinitesimal ; 
 compared with his .fulness of life and power, all life is 
 infinitesimal and all power weakness ; compared with the 
 infinitude of Being in him — nothing is: He is : his name 
 — Jehovah — I am — who says : " Before the worlds were, 
 I am," when heaven and earth have passed away, I am. 
 
 And now contrast yourself with this Being. See the 
 limitations which hedge you in on all sides. How 
 narrow the little round in which you move compared with 
 the circles and cycles of his existence. How you shrink 
 into nothingness in presence of his greatness ! Which- 
 ever way you go — how soon you find the end, the bar- 
 rier which stops you, saying : thus far and no farther ! 
 How many difficulties there are which you cannot sur- 
 mount ! How many mysteries which you cannot pene- 
 trate ! But yesterday you were not — tomorrow where, 
 what will you be? You live in but a moment of time, 
 the Past is gone from you, the Future evades you. 
 All around you spreads the shoreless ocean of existence, 
 you but a drop in its surface. Beneath you are the 
 unfathomable depths; above you tower the firmaments 
 and heavens, immensity rising above immensity, as 
 Alps on Alps arise, you but an atom drifting between. 
 That frail organism which your personality inhabits be- 
 comes a little deranged, and you are a raving maniac. 
 
328 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 That brittle thread which holds soul and body together 
 
 snaps and for you the universe is changed; Eternity 
 
 swallows you up in itself. 
 
 Such is God — such are you ! He the Infinite, you 
 
 the finite. He the Eternal, you the ephemeral. He 
 
 the Omnipresent, you the atom. He the All-seeing 
 
 and All-knowing — dwelling in the light which no man 
 
 can approach — you 
 
 " An infant crying in the night 
 And with no language but a cry." 
 
 He, the Supreme, the All-perfect, the All-victorious, 
 whose will is Law, whose Decree is Destiny. You the 
 blind, the erring, the sport of circumstances, the vic- 
 tim of events. He needing nothing, you needing every- 
 thing. Such is He ; such are you. Dare you say — 
 He is my Father ! Is he not for you an incompre- 
 hensible Terror? Is he not rather one whose name, 
 like those men of old, you dare not pronounce, a 
 Being whom — you feel — to look on would be death, 
 to touch would be annihilation? 
 
 But, you will say, God does not abandon us to the 
 fancies and imaginations of unaided intellect. He has 
 not left himself without witness. "The invisible things 
 of him from the creation of the world, are clearly seen, 
 being understood by the things that are made, even his 
 Eternal power and God-head." And this revelation of 
 himself in nature, you will say, has in it much to soften 
 the sterner features of the image which the mind forms 
 when left to itself, much to bring God and man together. 
 Nature reveals to us the Goodness of God, the interest 
 which he takes in his creatures, the care with which he 
 watches over them, and thus you think, perhaps, we 
 may be led to think of God as our Father. 
 
 You will not forget, however, that we see Nature in 
 the light reflected on it from the revelation which is 
 
 
SERMONS. 329 
 
 through Christ. But how is it when you confine your- 
 self strictly to the teachings of Nature ? Ask yourself 
 what is the most obvious relation which God sustains 
 to Nature? The answer will be that of Creator to the 
 work which He himself has made. But is this re- 
 lation one that suggests that of a Father? Is it not 
 rather one which considered in itself alone, seems to 
 exclude it? Take what is involved in the idea of a 
 Creator. It involves in the act of Creation, a power 
 unique in itself, a power which involves in itself all 
 other power. It involves unlimited authority over that 
 which has been created, and right to dispose of it as 
 the Maker wills. It involves the infinite inferiority of 
 the creature to the Creator ; for it is inconceivable that 
 God should produce another Being like himself, or 
 equal to himself. There is, perhaps, no power in the 
 Deity which so far transcends human power, none which 
 so strikingly impresses on the mind the immeasurable 
 superiority of God, as this power of creation, of abso- 
 lute origination. With nothing but the light of nature 
 to guide him, how can man claim such a power as his 
 Father? Himself a creature, how can he claim Sonship 
 to the Creator? 
 
 You will remember, however, that man is a creature 
 in the image of God, and for this reason he is in a 
 special sense, as no other creature is, the Child of God. 
 But how do we know this? Whence have we derived 
 that idea ? Take away that revelation of which Christ 
 is at once the center and the crown, and what founda- 
 tion have we for such a belief? 
 
 Let us admit that the consciousness seems to have 
 been felt in a measure, when only the light of nature 
 has prevailed ; that the heathen have spoken of a pater- 
 nal character of their divinities ; that heathen poets, as 
 Paul quotes one of them, speak of men as the offspring 
 
330 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 of God. But the paternal character which heathenism 
 ascribes to its gods, has scarcely anything in it to re- 
 mind us of Him whom Christ calls "My Father and 
 your Father." The former is at most nothing more 
 than the representation of the First Being in the order 
 of existence, the expression of a certain dependence 
 and subordination, like that of subjects on their 
 rulers, or of tribes on their chiefs. The heathen 
 Father — who was he ? Oftentimes it was the tyrant 
 who sacrificed his subjects to his cruel caprices, the 
 chieftain who sold his dependents like cattle. Hea- 
 thenism knows nothing of that filial liberty, that affec- 
 tionate trust, that intimate communion, that constant 
 sense of an ever near, ever loving Father which the 
 Christian experiences. To the great mass of heathen- 
 dom, the name Father, as applied to God, is an empty 
 name, a dead title. But you will say, it is not in na- 
 ture alone that God is revealed. History or Providence, 
 as we sometimes call it, is a manifestation of him. In 
 the administration of the world's affairs he displays 
 those moral attributes, and that personal interest in the 
 affairs of men, which incline us to think of Him as our 
 Father. 
 
 But here again what is the aspect under which we 
 most naturally view God? It is that of Ruler, King, 
 Judge. He sits on the throne: the Universe is his 
 Kingdom. All creatures are his subjects. He is the 
 Supreme Legislator ; he commands, it is the duty of all 
 to obey. He is the Arbiter of Events; nothing takes 
 place but by his ordinance or permission. He doeth 
 according to his will in the armies of heaven and among 
 the inhabitants of earth and there is none that can stay 
 his hand or say unto him : what doest thou ? He is the 
 Supreme Judge who executes all the laws of his king- 
 dom, the dispenser of all their rewards and penalties. 
 
SERMONS. 331 
 
 This is the voice of all History, the testimony of all 
 experience concerning God in Providence. It proclaims 
 God not as the Father, but as the Sovereign, the Ar- 
 biter, the Disposer, the Nemesis. We may say, indeed, 
 that his government is a paternal government, that he 
 rules as a Father, but what is our warrant for this? 
 The Ruler is not necessarily the Father. In human 
 governments, at least, the two characters are not 
 only separate and distinct, but they often come in con- 
 flict, and what do we find then ? What is the duty of 
 the magistrate when the interests of the government de- 
 mand one course of action, while the Father's affections 
 prompt another? The latter must yield to the former. 
 If the King, the Judge, yields to the Father, we accuse 
 him of weakness, he is unfit to rule. On the other 
 hand, in proportion as the Supreme Ruler of the world 
 is invested with the more tender and approachable at- 
 tributes of a Father, in the same proportion is he di- 
 vested of the attributes of an absolute Sovereign. Thus 
 it was with the Greeks, the most intellectual heathens 
 whom the world has ever known. The more their su- 
 preme divinities were clothed with human feelings and 
 passions, and brought into contact with human affairs, 
 the less were they regarded as the real rulers of the 
 world. The real god of the Greek was Fate. And so 
 universally. To the mind which has received no light 
 from the revelation of God in Christ the world is ruled 
 by Fate : either by a Supreme Divinity which is no 
 other than Fate personified, or by an impersonal Fate 
 against which even the gods rebel in vain. No ! we find 
 no Father there. It may be, however, that distrusting 
 the intentions and deductions of the intellect, you fall 
 back on the instincts of the heart. You say, I believe, 
 because I have felt — 
 
33 2 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 " I found Him not in world or sun, 
 Or eagle's wing, or insect's eye, 
 Nor through the questions men may try, 
 The petty cobwebs we have spun : 
 If e'er when faith had fallen asleep 
 I heard a voice — ' Believe no more,' 
 And heard an ever-breaking shore 
 That tumbled in the Godless deep ; 
 A warmth within the breast would melt 
 The freezing reason's colder part, 
 And like a man in wrath the heart 
 Stood up and answered — 'I have felt.'" 
 
 Yes, you say these feelings, these yearnings, these 
 cravings for a love such as only a Father can give must 
 find their justification in the reality toward which they 
 reach forth. Far be it from me to undervalue these 
 feelings, or to impair their testimony. Cherish it, prize 
 it, rejoice in it to the utmost. And were that faith of 
 the heart, that faith of instinct sufficient for every 
 emergency that can overtake it, you might satisfy your- 
 self with it; nothing more would be needed. But 
 it is not so. There are times when it fails you, 
 there are hours when those yearnings and hopes 
 are overwhelmed beneath doubts and fears. Too 
 much of life's pilgrimage lies through the valley of the 
 shadow of death for a faith which is mere feeling. We 
 live in a world where Light and Darkness, Joy and 
 Pain, Life and Death hold divided empire. Nature se- 
 cretes poison as well as honey. She nourishes the night- 
 shade as well as the lily, the upas as well as the vine. 
 The forked lightning shoots along the track of the sun- 
 beam, blasting and withering. The vulture sweeps in 
 the path of the dove; the wolf prowls in the footsteps 
 of the lamb. Fierce engines of destruction are ever 
 forging and launching forth : subtle elements of death 
 are ever brewing and brooding. Tornadoes, volcanoes, 
 earthquakes, fire and flood ravage the earth with deso- 
 lating fury. Armies of creatures born to prey are tor- 
 
SERMONS. 333 
 
 hiring and devouring their numberless hecatombs. If 
 we could but hear it — one unbroken shriek of agony, 
 one eternal wail of woe, is heard amidst the endless 
 laughs and songs of nature. The earth is a charnel- 
 house: the rocks are the obituaries of untold genera- 
 tions that have been crushed into the dust of death. 
 
 The civilizer's spade grinds horribly 
 
 On dead men's bones, and can not turn up soil 
 
 That's otherwise than fetid, all success 
 
 Proves partial failure : all advance implies 
 
 What's left behind : all triumph, something crushed 
 
 At the chariot wheels : all government, some wrong : 
 
 And rich men make the poor who curse the rich, 
 
 Who agonize together : rich and poor 
 
 Under and over in the social spasm 
 
 And crisis of the ages. 
 
 And so the dark tragedy goes on, the strong crush- 
 ing the weak, wrong often triumphant, tyranny su- 
 preme, fraud successful, bodies preyed on by disease, 
 smitten with the pestilence, wasting with hunger, minds 
 dwarfed in idiocy or wrecked in insanity, souls crushed 
 beneath burdens too heavy to be borne, hearts bleed- 
 ing, hopes withered, noble enterprises dashed to dust, 
 the innocent bearing the curse of the guilty, lives of 
 beautiful promise blighted in the bud, tears of sorrow, 
 and sorrows too deep for tears, prayers for a blessing 
 that never comes, and prayers for death that comes 
 too late, blessings that turn to curses, doubt that turns 
 to despair. Ah ! not easy is it for the heart to lift itself 
 out of the shadow which these dark problems of exist- 
 ence cast upon it. The mere feeling that God is our 
 Father, will avail but little against these other feelings, 
 these doubts and fears that are rolled upon the mind 
 by the dread mysteries which are all about and within 
 you. There is still another voice than that of the 
 heart coming up from within to which you must give 
 heed. It is the voice of conscience. And what does 
 
334 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 it say ? It tells you that whatever the relations at first 
 existing between God and you might have been, these 
 relations are altogether changed. It is not now as it 
 was in the beginning. You are not now as when you 
 first came from God. You have done all in your power 
 to break the tie which bound you to God. What if it 
 be broken forever f You have repudiated God's pater- 
 nal authority over you, you have slighted his paternal 
 interest in you, you have spurned his Father's love for 
 you, your course tells you that you have deserved to 
 be eternally disowned — why should not a just Father 
 treat you as you deserve ? You have become as unlike 
 to your Father as darkness is unlike light, as sin is un- 
 like holiness ; how can a holy God delight in you as his 
 child? You left your Father's house and became a child 
 of shame. Your course tells you that you have no 
 longer any right to his hospitalities, that to cross the 
 pure threshold and to enter the sacred precincts where 
 he dwells, would be sacrilege. You have dishonored 
 your Father's name, you have traduced his glory. 
 
 Your course tells you that to call yourself his child 
 would be blasphemy. It interprets against you all the 
 portents of nature, and all the terrible facts of life. It 
 bids you see in the lightning the bolt of his vengeance, 
 and in the pestilence the scourge of his wrath. It 
 makes you tremble when his judgements are abroad in 
 the earth, and ever and anon whispers to your shudder- 
 ing soul — ' ' Thy God is a consuming fire. " What then ? 
 Must you yield to despair? This belief in a Divine 
 Father, is it no other than an illusion ? This hope that 
 you may be the child of an Infinite Love, is it but a 
 mockery ? Must you walk in doubt and darkness all 
 your days, groping for a hand you never feel, seeking 
 for a heart you never find ? No ! no ! no ! One there 
 
SERMONS. 335 
 
 is whom to see is to see the Father, whom to find is to 
 find the Father. 
 
 Behold him ! hear him ! He teaches you to call God 
 your Father in Heaven. He proclaims his Fatherhood 
 to the world. He brings everything into connection 
 with his Fatherhood. The earth and all its creatures 
 are the Father's. All the events of life are the Father's 
 dispensations. Seeing, as we all see, these dark enig- 
 mas of existence, these ills and miseries which abound, 
 yea, looking deeper into their awful mysteries than it is 
 possible for us to look, he still announces not only with 
 confidence, but with joy, that God is our Father. And 
 he is a Teacher, the like of whom the world has never 
 seen. He speaks as man never spoke. He speaks 
 with an authority which all acknowledge. 
 
 But this is not all. You doubt, perchance, whether 
 the testimony of the wisest of teachers is sufficient of 
 itself on a matter of so great importance. The wisest 
 may err. The purest may be under a delusion. His 
 very purity and spirituality may perchance cause him 
 to be more susceptible to the power of dreams and 
 ideal conceptions, beautiful in themselves, but with no 
 foundation in reality. Here again, you receive a new 
 assurance from the testimony of Jesus that he has come 
 immediately from the Father to tell the world of Him 
 who sent him. He speaks as the special messenger of 
 the Most High, divinely commissioned to tell us what 
 we most need to know of God. He speaks the words 
 which he received of God. . He tells us what he has 
 seen with God. All his utterances and all his actions 
 are such as the Father has taught him, that he may 
 teach us. He claims all this, and you feel that his 
 claims must be true, for otherwise Jesus himself is 
 a self-contradiction. His life is a falsehood, his mis- 
 sion a delusion. This it is which gives significance to 
 
336 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 his life, which seals his words with authority. He is 
 from the Father to speak of the Father to men. If this 
 be not true, nothing more is left us to believe in. His- 
 tory is an impossibility; character is an ignis fatuus ; 
 the best in human life, the deepest in human conscious- 
 ness, the grandest in human aspiration is vanity of vani- 
 ties. If anything is true, this must be true, that when 
 he speaks, it is God's word that we hear, when he tells 
 us of God, it is God telling us of himself. When he 
 assures us that God is our Father, it is God assuring us, 
 " I am your Father." 
 
 Do you need anything more than this ? Do you de- 
 mand an assurance from the inner depths of the Divine 
 Nature ? Do you fear that the interval between God and 
 anyone less than himself is so immense that you can- 
 not trust the deliverances of any inferior being? Behold 
 then in Christ one who is not only sent forth by God, 
 but who has come forth out of God. Yea ! he is the 
 Son of God : — not as a creature, for he was with God in 
 the beginning, before the world was : — but the Son of 
 God as a Divine Being — the only begotten, the Eternal 
 Son of God. He calls God Father in a peculiar sense, 
 He teaches us to say — "Our Father," he says "My 
 Father." — "I am the Son of God," he says. "I and 
 my Father are one." And if you thoughtfully consider 
 his words and his life, you are constrained to believe in 
 these declarations. He speaks of God as no other than 
 the only and well beloved son of God could speak. He 
 speaks to God as no other would dare to speak ; he 
 claims, he enjoys, he exhibits, he manifests, a oneness 
 with God to which it would be blasphemy in any other 
 to make any pretension. He, the Lowly in Heart, de- 
 mands for himself what belongs only to God. The 
 heart of God throbs in the life of Christ, and every- 
 where it is a Father's heart. He it is who comes to you 
 
SERMONS. 337 
 
 and says — God is your Father. He knows that God is 
 the Father. From Eternity he was in the bosom of that 
 Father, he lived in the love of that Father. He knows 
 it ; he has tasted it in all its sweetness ; he has enjoyed 
 it in all its fulness. He knows that the name Father 
 when applied to God is no figure of speech, no empty 
 title. 
 
 Is not this enough? Do you still doubt whether 
 after all the Father of Christ can be your Father? Be- 
 hold in Christ again your brother; bone of your bone 
 and flesh of your flesh. The Son of God, he is at the 
 same time the Son of Man. "The brightness of the 
 Father's glory, and the express image of his person," 
 he is yet one of our family. He is crowned with infi- 
 nite perfection, radiant with a majesty before which 
 heaven veils its eyes ; and yet we see his brow wet with 
 bloody sweat, and his eyes with human tears. He is 
 King of Kings and Lord of Lords, and yet he is not 
 ashamed to call us brethren. He is my Lord and my 
 God, and yet he is my brother. He it is who says: 
 "Go to my brethren and say unto them: I ascend unto 
 my Father and your Father, to my God and your God." 
 The same God, the same Father, — the same Father's 
 love to trust in, and to bless you unto the end. 
 
 Do you still hesitate, do you still tremble as you ap- 
 proach this God ? Ah ! I know the reason why. You 
 remember the sin which has alienated you from him. 
 You feel the guilt which rises between you and him. 
 But look again to Christ. Does he repel sinners? He 
 calls them to him. Does he shun the guilty ? He says 
 "Come to me, and I will give you rest!" Does he 
 give up the lost? " He came to seek and to save the 
 lost." Do you point to your sin? His blood cleanseth 
 from all sin. Your guilt ? His cross takes all your guilt 
 away. Divine Justice? Nowhere does it shine more 
 
338 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 brightly than in the sacrifice made on Calvary — The 
 Law ? Nowhere is it so fully magnified and made hon- 
 orable as in the obedience, the sufferings, and the death 
 of the Crucified One. God — He is your Father, he 
 stands with open arms to receive you ; he beseeches you 
 to return and be reconciled to himself; the door is open, 
 the feast is prepared, the table is spread, the welcome, 
 the ring, the robe — all is ready. You have but to 
 throw yourself down at his feet, crying ' ' Father, I have 
 sinned and am no more worthy to be called thy son," 
 — and that is the last you hear of your sins. They are 
 forgotten : naught remains for you henceforth, but the 
 smiles, the embraces, the entertainments, the compan- 
 ionship, the love of a Father who is yours forever. 
 
 And how have you found hirn ? Ah ! need I say ? 
 Does not your heart now respond to this declaration — 
 "No man cometh unto the Father but by me." Yes, 
 it is in Christ that you find your Father, it is in Christ 
 that the Father finds his lost child. Your Elder Brother 
 brings you to the Father — he brings the Father to you. 
 
 You are accepted in Him. The Father receives you 
 for his sake, and loves you in Him — " He is our Peace." 
 "If a man loves me," says Jesus, and let each one 
 listen to his words — "he will keep my words — and my 
 Father will love him, and we will come unto him, and 
 make our abode with him." "The Father himself 
 loveth you, because ye have loved me." " O righteous 
 Father, the world hath not known thee; but I have 
 known thee, and these have known that thou hast sent 
 me, and I have declared unto them thy name" — Father! 
 — "and will declare it: that the love wherewith thou 
 hast loved me may be in them, and I in them." 
 
 Oh ! who can comprehend the blessedness of the 
 Sons of God? Language fails, imagination fails, Eter- 
 nity alone can unfold it. "Now are we the Sons of 
 
 
SERMONS. 339 
 
 God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be, but 
 we know that when he shall appear we shall be like 
 him " — Sons of God now ; like the First-begotten here- 
 after. — The lost image restored, the lost Sonship re- 
 gained. 
 
 Brother, — forget not the way, there is but one; "I 
 am the way: no man cometh to the Father but by me." 
 As many as received Him, to them gave he power to 
 become the Sons of God. Receive Christ; and you 
 find your Father. — Reject Christ and you lose your 
 Father — you yourself are lost : you are a wanderer, an 
 outcast, an orphan through all Eternity. 
 
XVI. 
 
 THE YOUTH OF CHRIST. 
 
 Luke 3: 23. "And Jesus himself began to be about thirty years of age" [or more 
 correctly] "And Jesus, himself was, when beginning (his ministry) about thirty' 
 years of age." 
 
 It has been remarked that there is inspiration even in 
 the silence of Scripture. I may add that there is in- 
 spiration even in its hints. What we know about the 
 age of Christ we learn only from a few hints scattered 
 here and there. The text is one of these. Here we 
 learn that Christ began his public ministry at the age 
 of 30. From what is said elsewhere we may infer that 
 his ministry lasted about three years, and then ended on 
 the cross. On the third day he rose again, and forty 
 days thereafter he ascended to heaven. And thus we 
 learn that all the notable events of his life took place 
 within the brief space of three and thirty years. Christ 
 died, rose, and left the earth, while still in his youth. 
 And in that life this surely means something. 
 
 Observe, however, that the Bible makes no parade of 
 this fact. The biographies of those who have distin- 
 guished themselves in youth generally take pains to 
 make the fact prominent. Not so the Bible. The text 
 is the only passage where direct mention is made of 
 Christ's age in connection with his ministry. It nowhere 
 tells us how old he was when he died, or when he left 
 (34o) 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 341 
 
 
 this earth. It leaves us to find that' out for ourselves. 
 Yet it lies there, one of the many proofs of its gen- 
 uineness. It is just as careful, however, not to leave us 
 in entire ignorance touching our Lord's age. The truth 
 that Christ was, and is forever young, is full of signifi- 
 cance, and sheds important light on many aspects of his 
 personality and of his work. Let us make it the theme 
 of our present contemplation. 
 
 I remark then, to begin with, that first, Christ's youth 
 is an evidence of the innateness and originality of his 
 wisdom. At thirty years of age he began to teach the 
 mysteries of the kingdom of heaven. From the very 
 first all were astonished at his teaching. He taught as 
 one having authority, and not as the scribes. Men 
 said: — A- great prophet is risen up among us. The 
 common people heard him gladly. Members of the 
 Sanhedrim said: — Here is a prophet come from God. 
 Where did his wisdom come from? From India? or 
 Egypt? or Greece? Did he, like Pythagoras, Socrates, 
 or Plato, travel abroad from country to country, possess- 
 ing himself of all the intellectual wealth of the schools 
 of his day, and learning philosophy at the feet of the 
 greatest masters? Not so. He never left his own 
 land : there is no evidence that he ever heard the name 
 of a single school of philosophy or master of thought 
 outside of Palestine. Surely then he had learned all 
 that was taught in Tiberias, or Jerusalem : he had sat at 
 the feet of the Gamaliels of his own nation, and mas- 
 tered their doctrines ? Not even that. Until he began 
 to teach he was known only as a carpenter, and a car- 
 penter's son : and his own neighbors inquired in wonder : 
 (t How knoweth this man letters, having never learned?" 
 Notwithstanding, the testimony of all who heard him 
 was — " Never man spake like this man." A wisdom 
 so penetrative, so fruitful, so clear and yet so deep, so 
 
342 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 gentle and yet so authoritative was never known. What 
 remains of it to us is perfect. There is in it nothing 
 dim, nothing shallow, nothing false, nothing obsolete. 
 The world has never outgrown it. It never will. 
 Whence did Christ acquire it ? Not, I repeat, in other 
 lands, for he never went out of his own. Not in books 
 or in schools, for these were denied him. Not by a 
 lengthened experience, for when he began to display 
 it he was only thirty years old. At the age of twelve 
 even, he astonished the doctors of the temple with his 
 questions and answers. 
 
 A parallel is sometimes drawn between Christ and 
 Socrates as teachers. But Socrates lived in Athens, 
 the center of the intellectual activity of the world in 
 his day. He attended its schools. He was arr educated 
 man. He associated with its teachers and statesmen. 
 He devoted himself to the life and pursuits of a phi- 
 losopher. He died in the fulness of years and the ma- 
 turity of experience, having reached the allotted span 
 of man's life — died, no doubt, like a philosopher. 
 Christ died at one-half the age of Socrates — died, as 
 has been said, like a God. The wisdom of Socrates 
 was human: the wisdom of Christ divine. We hear 
 still, to be sure, of the Socratic method in philosophy : 
 yet what is that as a power, as an influence in the world, 
 compared with the truth as it is in Jesus, with that Di- 
 vine Philosophy which the word Christianity represents? 
 Whence then, I ask again, did Christ obtain his wis- 
 dom ? There is but one answer. He could have ac- 
 quired it only from above, only from within. It was 
 the inspiration of the Godward within him, the result 
 of his perfect communion and oneness with the Father. 
 Well might he say : "I do nothing of myself, but as 
 my Father hath taught me I speak these things. ... I 
 speak to the world those things which I have heard of 
 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 343 
 
 him. ... I have given unto them the words which 
 thou gavest me." 
 
 2. The youth of Christ is an element of importance 
 in determining his moral character. Christ, as we 
 know, laid claims to holiness, such as have been pre- 
 sented by no other. He claimed absolute immunity 
 from sin. " Which of you convinceth me of sin?" So 
 he challenged the men of his day, who knew him, who 
 watched him, who thirsted alike for his blood and for 
 his reputation, and the challenge was never taken up. 
 His most intimate associates declared that he knew no 
 sin, neither was guile found in his mouth. With hu- 
 mility, with gentleness, and yet with incomparable dig- 
 nity, he said to those whose righteousness was their 
 pride: "Ye are from beneath, I am from above." 
 What now was the nature of his holiness ? Was it the 
 condition of one who was tired of sin, in whom the pas- 
 sions had expended all their strength, whose sensibilities 
 were blunted by time, on whose senses the world and 
 its pleasures had begun to pall, who was wearied of 
 all its vanities and follies ? Far from it. Was it the 
 holiness of one who had been engaged for long years 
 in the conflict with evil, who had gained the mastery 
 over sinful inclinations and habits only after a prolonged 
 and fluctuating struggle, in which the victory had not 
 always been with his better self? Nay, indeed, not that. 
 Was it even the holiness of one from the first predom- 
 inately, although not absolutely good, gentle, simple, 
 pure, benevolent, who by the diligent cultivation of 
 these graces grew more and more good, pure, gentle 
 and loving, until not a vestige of their opposites re- 
 mained ? Not even that. Mark it. It was not the ho- 
 liness of a faded [blase] life, of a decayed animalism — 
 if that could be called holiness. It was not the moral 
 character of a spiritual veteran, who by dint of a long 
 
344 LLEWELYN 10 AN EVANS. 
 
 and hard struggle had fought his way into holiness, and 
 who carries in his soul the scars of many a doubtful bat T 
 tie. It was not the purity of culture : it was no prod- 
 uct of art. What was it then ? It was the holiness 
 of one who in childhood had recognized as the para- 
 mount obligation of his life the doing of his Father's 
 business, who in youth grew up in wisdom and in favor 
 with God and men, who was never overcome by the 
 most fearful temptations, although they assailed him 
 when he was most susceptible to their power. When 
 all his sensibilities were liveliest, when his capabilities 
 of enjoyment were keenest, when the instincts and im- 
 pulses of his manhood were most vigorous, when 
 the world made its strongest appeals to the love 
 of power, the love of happiness, the love of praise, even 
 then it was his meat and his drink to do the will of his 
 Father in heaven. Such holiness must have been spon- 
 taneous, inborn, Divine : not derived, not created, not 
 developed, but inherent in himself, identical with him- 
 self, inalienable from himself. 
 
 And this is something which stamps Christ as a 
 unique personality in the history of humanity, v/hich 
 distinguishes him from all others. This Holy Child 
 Jesus, this holy youth, this holy young man, Jesus of 
 Nazareth, of whom we cannot think as being ever at 
 any stage of his life, other than holy — this is a phe- 
 nomenon which the world has never elsewhere seen. 
 It is a miracle, one which makes every other miracle 
 possible, which justifies Christianity itself as the greatest 
 of all miracles. 
 
 3. Again the youth of Christ is of peculiar signifi- 
 cance in connection with his mission as one of sorrow. 
 Christ came into this world to suffer. "The Son of 
 Man came ... to give his life a ransom for many. " 
 "He is despised and rejected of men, a Man ofSor- 
 
SERMONS. 345 
 
 rows and acquainted with grief." Was ever grief like 
 His? Gethsemane with its cup of agony! Calvary 
 with its cross of woe ! More bitter agony, darker woe, 
 earth has never known, never will know. " Father, if 
 it be possible, let this cup pass from me." " My God, 
 my God! why hast thou forsaken me?" If Christ 
 must needs suffer these things, was it not well that he 
 should suffer them in his youth when all his powers for 
 endurance, whether of body or of mind, were at their 
 highest and best. And yet if Christ must live the life 
 of the cross, as well as die the death of the cross, is it 
 not a relief that His agony was not prolonged through 
 three score years and ten ? Do we not feel grateful to 
 remember that if he suffered intensely, he did not suffer 
 long , that so few years sufficed to enable him to say, 
 "It is finished." 
 
 At the same time the thought of his youth gives in- 
 creased reality and intensity to his sorrow. He suf- 
 fered when his capability for suffering, as well as for 
 enduring, or for enjoying, was at its highest. When 
 to most men hope is brightest, enjoyment is keenest, 
 life is richest in promise— then it was that the darkest 
 cloud rested on Jesus and his soul was exceeding sor- 
 rowful, even unto death. Can you doubt the reality, 
 the depth, the keenness of his anguish ? 
 
 But thanks be to God ! Death is swallowed up in 
 victory ! The cloud parts, heaven opens ; and we be- 
 hold the Conqueror of Death, radiant with immortal 
 youth, ascend the throne forever. And this leads me to 
 say in the next place that 
 
 4. Christ's undying youth makes him a fitting rep- 
 resentative of Heaven and Immortality. Christ has 
 brought life and immortality into light. Is it not fit- 
 ting that He who is come to reveal them, to be the 
 embodiment of heaven and eternity's highest excellen- 
 
34*5 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 cies and glories, should be thought of as forever young? 
 Without Christ, what should we know of the hereafter ? 
 Take Christ away and what remains? The witchery 
 of the soft blue sky, you say, remains, the stars shed 
 their gentle radiance, the ocean murmurs its deep-toned 
 harmonies, and the mountains lay their mighty spell on 
 the soul, the grand processions of nature move on, 
 evolving phase after phase of beauty and sublimity — 
 but wherefore ? What is the end of all ? Alas ! all 
 these processes of life, glory, and joy, hasten into an 
 abyss of darkness. Over all death reigns. Ah ! 
 
 " That one word death comes over my sick brain, 
 Wrapping my vision in a sudden swoon, 
 Blotting the gorgeous pomp of sun and shade." 
 
 Its dark shadow bounds our vision. Beyond it we 
 can not see. It is the last word of life. " Man dieth, 
 and wasteth away ; yea, man giveth up the ghost, and 
 where is he? Where is he? Is he at all? Who 
 knows? Where Christ is unknown what is the future 
 but a vast unknown, a guess, a Perhaps? What is 
 death but a leap in the dark ? But lo ! Christ comes, 
 and all is light. He comes as the very spirit and au- 
 thor of light. He comes that men might have life and 
 might have it more abundantly. He comes from 
 heaven into our earth, and brings heaven with him. 
 He is the representative of the glory that is beyond, 
 the glory that is to be revealed. He stands before us 
 in immortal youth, in the beauty of the life to come. 
 To behold him is to gaze on immortality. To have 
 him is to have eternal life. To be with him is to be in 
 heaven. Christ has come to show the world that there 
 is no old age in heaven, that eternity is everlasting 
 youth. 
 
 5. The youth of Christ again gives peculiar meaning 
 to the title — "Son of God" — so often given in Scrip- 
 
SERMONS. 347 
 
 ture. When we think of God in his Infinite Life, 
 we naturally think of him as existing from eternity. 
 He "only hath immortality" as an essential underived 
 attribute of his Being, and yet man too hath an immor- 
 tality which God has given him. But of God alone 
 can it be said that He is without beginning, as well as 
 without end. "Before the mountains were brought 
 forth, or even Thou hadst formed the earth and the 
 world, even from everlasting to everlasting, Thou art 
 God." There never was a time, there never was an 
 eternity where God was not. While the earth was 
 forming during those long seons, which were like waves 
 on the ocean of eternity, each wave itself an ocean, 
 itself an eternity almost — God was. Before all material 
 existence, while only heaven and its spiritual hosts lay 
 in the shadow of the Divine Glory — God was. Before 
 all created existence, before there was a creature's eye 
 to see, or ear to hear, or mind to think — God was ! 
 alone ! reigning in the boundless empire of his own 
 infinity, self-subsistent, self-sufficient, all in all ! What, 
 then, shall we call him ? Let us name him with Daniel, 
 "Ancient of Days." With Moses and Isaiah let us 
 call him Eternal God ! But shall we therefore think 
 that his eye ever v/axes dim, that his ear ever grows 
 heavy, that his arm becomes faint, that age clouds his 
 intelligence, enfeebles his activities, diminishes his joy, 
 or chills his heart? Nay, verily, the Ancient of Days 
 is also the Youthful of Days forever. For behold him 
 who calls himself the "only begotten Son of God," 
 whom the Father calls "My beloved Son." Do you 
 see aught of decay, of decrepitude, of age in him ? 
 Not the faintest shadow. His are the fulness, the 
 strength, the glory of perpetual youth. Such, there- 
 fore, as he is, such is God. For what do we mean 
 when we call Christ the Son of God? Do we mean 
 
348 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 that he is less than the Father, that he is younger, that 
 his eternity is not the equal of the Father's ? Nothing 
 of the kind, and they who think so have failed to grasp 
 one of the most beautiful truths in Christ's revelation 
 of the Father. But the meaning is that Christ is the 
 perfect representative of the Father, that he is the 
 exact embodiment of his attributes, the express image 
 of his person, the reproduction of his infinite perfec- 
 tions, the full heir of all his glories, who can say to 
 his Father : "All things are mine!" In his Sonship 
 he embodies accordingly the life of God, let me say, 
 the youth of God. In Christ we see that God is for- 
 ever young, that the Intelligence of God is forever 
 young, that the Power of God is forever young, that 
 the heart of God is forever young, that the Eternity of 
 God is eternal youth. Yes — in the face of Jesus 
 Christ the awful mysterious reality of God's eternity 
 smiles upon us with the sweet attractive loveliness of 
 youth, winning our unshrinking confidence, our unfal- 
 tering trust. Once more : 
 
 5. The youth of Christ is a fact of inestimable precious- 
 ness in assisting our conception of Christ's brotherhood. 
 How easy it becomes for us to think of Christ as our 
 brother, as we remember his youth when he ascended 
 to the right hand of God. "I go to your Father, and 
 to my Father," said he to his disciples, just before 
 leaving them. And so he parted from them, as a 
 brother from his brethren. But such as Christ was when 
 he ascended to heaven, such he is to-day — our brother ! 
 
 He is there as the first-born of the family of God, as 
 the bond which unites all the members of that family in 
 one heavenly brotherhood, which also unites that broth- 
 erhood to the Father of all. As on earth he was the 
 representative of the Fatherhood of God, so in heaven 
 he represents the brotherhood of man. From Eternity 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 349 
 
 the Son of God — through Eternity, the Son of Man — 
 made in all things like unto his brethren, who is not 
 ashamed to call them brethren. He is the Perfect Man 
 — humanity in its highest state of beauty, of glory, and 
 of strength. He is the unchangeable type of the race, 
 to which each one of his brethren will be exalted. 
 "For whom God did foreknow he also did predestinate 
 to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might 
 be the first-born among many brethren." What then do 
 we learn in regard to the Future of Humanity, as we 
 contemplate this one Elder Brother ? We learn that as 
 the Eternal Life of the Godhead is Youth, so also is 
 the Eternal life of perfected humanity Youth. "Now 
 are we the Sons of God, and it doeth not yet appear 
 what we shall be, but we know that when he shall ap- 
 pear, we shall be like him." 
 
 Like him in eternal youth : like him in the bloom, 
 the vigor, the freshness, and joyousness of immortality. 
 No more weariness of body or of mind, no more dim- 
 ness of vision, no more feebleness of sense, physical or 
 spiritual : no more vacancy of thought, no more exhaus- 
 tion of feeling, no growing infirmity of intellect, or de- 
 bility of will : no deepening of the shadows as the night 
 approaches : no passing away of the summer of the 
 heart : no withering of life's glories as the winter draws 
 nigh : no alienation, or unbelief, no sin or despair to 
 blight with hopeless age. 
 
 Perennial youth is the prerogative of every one of 
 Christ's brethren — a youth ever renewing itself by par- 
 taking of His Fulness, who is the Fountain of the Life 
 Immortal. 
 
XVII. 
 
 BEARING EACH OTHER'S BURDENS. 
 
 Galatians 6:2. " Bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.'' 
 
 You are all familiar with the picture set before us by 
 the opening lines of Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, "I 
 dreamed, and behold I saw a man clothed with rags, 
 standing in a certain place, with his face from his own 
 house, a book in his hand, and a great burden upon his 
 back." That burden was indeed a special burden. 
 You remember how the bearer was delivered from that 
 burden. "I saw in my dream, that just as Christian 
 came up with the cross, his burden loosed from off his 
 shoulders, and fell from off his back, and so continued 
 to do till it came to the mouth of the sepulchre, where 
 it fell in, and I saw it no more." The burden of which 
 Bunyan dreamed is doubtless the most serious bur- 
 den of life, the burden of sin and guilt. It is not, 
 however, the only burden which is laid upon us all 
 along our earthly journey. They are the inseparable 
 accompaniments of our sinful mortality, and of our life 
 discipline. We are freed from them only by death. 
 These are the burdens of which the text speaks. These 
 burdens vary much. Each one's burden is not the 
 same with that of his neighbor. The burden of one 
 is lighter than that of another. There are those who 
 (35o) 
 
 
SERMONS. 
 
 D} 1 
 
 
 are almost or quite unconscious of their burdens, and 
 their case is the saddest of all. These words imply- 
 that all have one burden. From them we may infer 
 the Bible theory of life. What is life ? Is life worth 
 living ? These are the questions. There are those 
 who picture it as a gay holiday, made up of mirth and 
 music and sunshine ; not a cloud overhead, not a thorn 
 in the way, no burden to bear, no weary, footsore 
 march, nothing but the present, seizing the day, bask- 
 ing in the sunshine, dreaming. 
 
 Others paint it in dark and dismal lines, as a day of 
 clouds, and rain, and chilling storms; as a valley of 
 shadows, a desert of dead hopes, a Golgotha of perished 
 and perishing travelers, who have fallen by the way, 
 crushed by their loads. 
 
 The Bible picture of life is neither this nor that. It 
 is neither a gala day, nor a day of lamentation ; neither 
 idle play, nor hopeless agony, neither the laughter of 
 fools, nor the wail of the despairing. It is indeed a 
 pilgrimage, a sad and weary one to many, yet not with- 
 out its joys ; a long pilgrimage it may be, yet not 
 without its rests, through the wilderness, yet by many 
 an Elim of fountains and palms ; a burden-laden pil- 
 grimage, and yet the toil of which may be lessened 
 and its pleasures enlarged, if we heed the voice of wis- 
 dom, and seek to " bear one another's burdens, and so 
 fulfill the law of Christ " : 
 
 " Not enjoyment and not sorrow 
 Is our destined end or way, 
 But to act that each to-morrow, 
 Find us further than to-day." 
 
 Find us further, find our brother also further than 
 to-day, helped by us to bear his load, and to take 
 some steps forward which without our help he could 
 not have taken. 
 
35 2 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 What each one's burden is he best knows himself. 
 "The heart knoweth his own bitterness." "Every 
 man shall bear his own burdens." There are physical 
 burdens which many have to hear. Their life is loaded, 
 handicapped down with infirmity or disease. There is a 
 limitation of sense, or of function, which narrows for 
 them the channels of enjoyment or of culture. A con- 
 stant sense of pain adds a drop of bitterness to every 
 cup. Brain, nerve, limb, heart, lung, cries out its dis- 
 cord. A shadow, like that of death, is not far off. 
 
 There are mental burdens, burdens of mental infir- 
 mity or disease, the source of which is rather in the 
 body, and which becloud the life with apprehension 
 and pain, burdens also which are more purely intellect- 
 ual, doubts, discouragement, perplexity, from dealing 
 with the dark problems of being. There are spiritual 
 burdens which come upon us through our spiritual 
 shortcomings, through the infirmity of will, the preva- 
 lence of passion, the power of temptation, through 
 conflict with the world without or with self within. 
 There are burdens which form part of our heritage. 
 We inherit them from those who have gone before, by 
 the laws of hereditary transmission, social liability, re- 
 pressive responsibility. We are born into the world, 
 many of us with fetters on our limbs, with weights 
 around our necks. 
 
 There are burdens which are rolled on us by Prov- 
 idential dispensations — business perplexities, financial 
 embarrassments, failures, family troubles, national ca- 
 lamities, losses, death. There are burdens which others 
 lay on us by their follies, unkindness or unfaithfulness, 
 suspicion, calumny, ill-will, injurious dealing. With 
 many of us the great question is how to get rid of our 
 own burdens, or if not how to get rid of them alto- 
 gether, at least how to lighten them, how to carry 
 
SERMONS. 353 
 
 them with the most ease and comfort to ourselves. I 
 am far from saying that we are not to consider this 
 question. The right disposition of our own burdens is 
 one of the most important problems in life. It is a 
 question of infinite practical moment to each one of 
 us — how shall I deal most wisely with that which God 
 lays on me to bear as part of life's discipline? How 
 shall I secure that my burdens shall not hinder me, 
 crush me, wear me out? How shall I avoid getting 
 bitter or rebellious? How shall I bear my load, when 
 bear I must, so as to learn patience, to grow more 
 humble, to gain strength, to build up my manhood? 
 I say this is a legitimate question to ask. 
 
 But that is certainly a low view of life which stops 
 with our own burdens. The selfish motto — "every 
 man for himself," is abhorrent to every generous in- 
 stinct. It is earthly, sensual, devilish. The dictates 
 even of natural humanity protest against it. The man 
 who hardens his heart against the appeal of suffering 
 and want, who holds back his hand from lightening 
 the load under which his brother is staggering, is a 
 reprobate anywhere, even heathendom repudiates him, 
 much more does Christianity condemn him. For as 
 the text says, to bear one another's burdens is to fulfill 
 the law of Christ. Christ's law is ■ Love. All His 
 teachings inculcate the obligation of mutual service. 
 Nay, more, He is our example. " Himself took our 
 infirmities and bare our sicknesses." Bear ye one 
 another's burdens, and so "fulfill the lav/ of Christ." 
 What then does this precept imply? 
 
 I. It implies that first of all we should acquaint our- 
 selves with one another's burdens. It is a common 
 proverb that one-half* the world does not know how 
 the other half lives. To some extent this is unavoid- 
 able. It is not to be expected that every one should 
 
354 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 know all about every body else. This is not practic- 
 able, neither would it be desirable. It is not for us to 
 pry into the closets which hold our neighbor's skele- 
 tons. There are secrets too sacred to be laid open to 
 the public gaze. There are loads which no human 
 hand can lighten, much less remove. 
 
 If we only did all the duty that comes to hand each 
 day in the way of helping others, how much more ra- 
 diant with active sympathy our lives would become! 
 We certainly do not make the most of the opportuni- 
 ties which our knowledge brings to us. But after all, 
 can it be denied that there is much criminal ignorance 
 and insensibility on our part touching the sufferings 
 and want of others? We do not do all that we know 
 ought to be done, but do we know all that we ought to 
 know ? Do we not willfully, or at best thoughtlessly, 
 shut our eyes to the facts — the sad, tragic facts which 
 are all about us? Within eye-range and ear-range of 
 our homes and of our daily walks, sin and misery are 
 busy, their victims are many, the need of help is ur- 
 gent, and we dream, or try to dream, that all is well, 
 and do nothing. Sometimes a case comes to light, the 
 hidden evil reaches a climax ; the veil is rent, and we 
 get a glimpse of the abyss of corruption and wretched- 
 ness festering beneath, and we are shocked, our con- 
 science smites us, and we blame ourselves that we had 
 not known of the evil in time, and done what we could 
 to prevent it. But too late! 
 
 This is not the law of Christ. He came "to seek 
 and to save." The spirit of Christ seeks when and 
 whom it may help. In true Christlike sympathy there 
 is a spirit of discovery, a holy enterprise of love, 
 which goes forth to find its object, which is not satisfied 
 while there is one soul anywhere who needs help, one 
 want anywhere which can be relieved. 
 
SERMONS. 355 
 
 2. It is not enough, however, to become simply ac- 
 quainted with one anothers burdens, we should interest 
 ourselves in them. This sentiment was not unknown 
 even to the heathen heart. You are all familiar with 
 the utterance of the Roman poet, "I am a man, and 
 nothing pertaining to man is without interest for me." 
 You remember how that sentiment filled a Roman the- 
 atre with acclamations. 
 
 Shall it be said of Christian communities, that they 
 are insensible to the burdens which crush the hearts and 
 lives of those about them ? But you will say it is not 
 true that they are thus insensible. It cannot be so! 
 But are you so sure of that? Do you sufficiently take 
 into account the influence, e. g. of the law of familiar- 
 ity ? We become accustomed even to moral deformity. 
 
 " Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, 
 As to be hated needs but to be seen, 
 But seen too oft, familiar with her face, 
 We first endure,, then pity, then embrace." 
 
 We may not go quite so far as that, but the tendency is 
 
 that way. 
 
 In like manner we become accustomed to suffering, 
 our sensibilities are dulled by use. Misery comes to be 
 a matter of course. We pass by a degraded hovel, the 
 abode of filth and wretchedness, the lurking place of 
 vice and brutality, one of hell's caricatures of that 
 heaven on earth, home. But we go by, and beyond a 
 momentary sense of disgust, it may be, what do we feel ? 
 
 There goes a drunkard, that living satire on God's 
 image in man, alas ! the sight is so common it scarcely 
 affects us at all. With besotted face and maudlin words, 
 he staggers on his way, he reels into the gutter, and we 
 make a jest of it perhaps and pass on, and think no more 
 of it. See the faces which come forth out of the 
 crowded tenements of our cities, wan, poverty-stricken, 
 vice-bleared, epitomes of a life of woe, advertisements 
 
356 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 of days and nights of beastly degradation, photographs 
 of all evil lusts and passions, we look at them, they 
 look at us — and what do they say to us? how many of 
 them awaken even a passing emotion of interest, of 
 genuine thoughtful interest in our hearts? 
 
 They are to us little more than weeds by the way- 
 side, or blasted trees in the landscape. Now I do not 
 say that this is altogether blameworthy. We are all 
 conscious of it, even the best, most humane ; and to a 
 large extent it is unavoidable, the natural result of the 
 law of familiarity. 
 
 But it does show the danger to which we are all ex- 
 posed — a danger too, I venture to say, into which we all 
 fall more or less, of becoming culpably indifferent to 
 the burdens with which our brothers and sisters are 
 struggling, and which claim our attention and help 
 wherever we go. We must be on our guard against this 
 hardening process. We must fight this tendency to 
 apathy and self-indulgence, this fatalistic selfish ac- 
 quiescence in the crushing out of others, provided only 
 that our own burdens are easily borne. We must keep 
 our hearts tender and soft. 
 
 Let us never forget that we are members one of an- 
 other; that if one member suffer all the members suffer 
 with it. — He who liveth in pleasures, who liveth in and 
 for himself, is dead while he liveth, that, after all, sel- 
 fishness is suicide, and he who is dead to the interests 
 of others, sacrifices, murders in the end his own. " Who- 
 soever will save his life shall lose it." 
 
 3. It is not enough, however, to be interested simply 
 in the burdens of others. 
 
 The text enjoins sympathy which is more than a 
 feeling of interest towards those who need our help. 
 Sympathy, as the word denotes, is fellow-feeling, feeling 
 with others, not simply toward, with regard to them, and 
 
SERMONS. 357 
 
 taking their burdens on ourselves so that we shall feel 
 them to some extent, as those do who bear them. 
 "Remember those that are in bonds, as bound with 
 them, and them who suffer adversity as being yourselves 
 also in the body." Put yourself in his place, as an old 
 proverb has it, or in the more precise language of in- 
 spiration, "Put your own shoulder under your brother's 
 yoke." Realize for yourself the conditions, the trials, 
 the weakness, the want, the weariness, the embarrass- 
 ment, the sorrow of your brother. 
 
 This is one of the sacred uses of imagination. This 
 faculty is not given us for aesthetic or artistic uses 
 merely. To fill the mind's gallery with pictures of 
 beauty and sublimity, is not its only, perhaps not its 
 highest function in this state of trial and suffering. It 
 has also an ethical vocation. It is one of the factors of 
 life's moral discipline. It may be, and it should be 
 the agent of conscience, the hand-maid of love. It 
 should be trained to picture, to realize for us the moral 
 conditions and necessities of others, so that we may 
 wisely and efficiently aid them. 
 
 You can not give a man moral help or spiritual re- 
 lief, unless you understand and feel his case, appreciate 
 the peculiarities of his situation, and know through fel- 
 lowship just what his trouble is, where the burden 
 presses most heavily. You may not be able to do this 
 fully, to enter completely into the experience of him 
 you would relieve, but there must be something of it. 
 One who has known nothing whatever of debt, can 
 render but little service to the debtor. He whose own 
 heart has never been heavy with sorrow, can do but 
 little toward lightening the heart of another. The heart 
 that feels with another, must prompt and guide the 
 hand which brings help to another. 
 
 It was the recognition of this principle which led 
 
358 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 John Howard to visit the prisons of Europe, and to 
 take up his abode in lazarettos and pest-ships, that he 
 might see with his own eyes, and realize, to some ex- 
 tent in his own experience, the suffering of those 
 whom he would befriend. So Christ, our Great High 
 Priest, identified himself with our nature, and with our 
 lot, entered into all our mortal experiences, came down 
 into the lowest walks of weakness, loneliness and sor- 
 row, that then, with the power of Divine sympathy, He 
 might help and save his brethren. And thus he has 
 left us an example that we should follow in his steps. 
 As Christ is introduced as saying in the vision of Sir 
 Launfal : 
 
 " The Holy Supper is kept indeed 
 
 In whatsoever we share with a brother's need, 
 Not that which we give, but that which we share, 
 For the gift without the giver is bare, 
 Who bestows himself with his alms feeds three, 
 Himself, his hungering neighbor and me." 
 
 4. But even this is not enough. We must go one 
 step further yet. To feel the burden of another, is 
 not to bear that burden. There are those who find it 
 easy to indulge in sympathy, who enjoy it as a senti- 
 mental luxury, but who are never led by it to do any- 
 thing for others. What does it profit the poor seam- 
 stress in the alley, who is putting her heart's blood into 
 her stitches, that the fine madame around the corner 
 rocks herself while reading the song of the shirt, and 
 revels in the sweet pathos of tears for the unfortunate ? 
 A thin skin is easily affected, and there is a sympathy 
 which has no more merit in its suffering, and which 
 is only skin-deep. 
 
 How, then, are we to bear one another's burdens ? 
 Can you take the burden of another directly on your 
 own shoulders ? In some instances evidently you can. 
 If a friend is staggering under a heavy load of debt, 
 
SERMONS. 359 
 
 you can if it should seem best to do so — assume the 
 debt and pay it for him. But ought you to do this, 
 supposing it to be in your power? That would depend 
 on circumstances. It might be a noble thing to do, 
 provided the aggregate good resulting from it should 
 sufficiently outweigh any incidental damage or grief 
 attending it. The cases are manifestly few, however, 
 where there can be an absolute transfer of one man's 
 load to another's shoulders. In most cases the load is 
 so much a part of the man himself, of his personality 
 and life, that it can not be shifted. It is of such a load 
 that Paul says just below: " Every man should bear 
 his own burden." How, then, can we bear these bur- 
 dens? Or what is it to bear one another's burdens 
 when we can not make them absolutely our own? I 
 answer — it is to undergo that amount of suffering, of 
 sacrifice and of toil, with and for another, which may 
 be necessary to relieve him of his burden, so far as 
 that may be practicable, or if not to relieve him alto- 
 gether, at least to enable him to bear it. This is the 
 law of Christ of which Paul speaks, the law of love, in 
 other words, the great Christian law of sacrifice, the 
 highest law of the moral universe, the law of which 
 the life of Christ is the Divinest illustration. This law 
 requires not that a man should take on himself the in- 
 dividual sufferings of another, but that he should take 
 on himself that kind, and that degree of suffering, of 
 toil, of sacrifice, which is necessary to secure his neigh- 
 bor's good. 
 
 The rich man is not required to strip himself of his 
 wealth, to live in a hovel, to clothe himself with rags, 
 to shiver and to famish in want, but he is required to 
 deny himself somewhere, to live for something else 
 than personal ease and gratification, to make sacrifices 
 at the call of charity and duty, to undergo whatever 
 
360 LLEWELYN 10 AN EVANS. 
 
 toil and anxiety the administration of his property may 
 lay on him in the spirit of true stewardship, with a view 
 not to serve himself, but to help those who cannot help 
 themselves. 
 
 The man of culture is required by this law to hold 
 his attainments and powers at the service of others, to 
 sacrifice even some of the fruits, rewards, and enjoy- 
 ments of culture in himself so as to redeem others from 
 ignorance, grossness and superstition. Those to whom 
 God has communicated of the riches of his grace are to 
 bear these riches to the perishing, and in doing this are 
 to be prepared to encounter loss, obloquy, privation, 
 to crucify their own feelings, to sacrifice their prospects, 
 to lose, if need be, their lives. So the Son of God gave 
 up the throne, and took up the cross, laid aside his 
 glory, and clothed himself with shame, that he might 
 take away our burdens, and give the weary and heavy 
 laden rest. 
 
 Thus did he fulfil the Law of Love. The truest and 
 wisest sympathy, I think, is that which will teach or help 
 others to bear their own burdens. Is the burden one 
 which may be entirely removed? Then the wisest 
 sympathy is that which will teach the bearer to rid 
 himself of it. Here is a pauper, whose soul is pauper- 
 ized even more than his pocket. What is the best thing 
 you can do for him ? Teach him to respect himself, to 
 aspire to a life of self-reliance and industry, to make a 
 man of himself. This may cost you something, more 
 labor, more anxiety, more weariness of heart than if 
 you should buy him a cottage, and set him up in it ; 
 but can you doubt which would be the better way of 
 bearing his burden? 
 
 That ignorant man whose mental barrenness makes 
 him more helpless than the brute creation, for he has 
 not the instinct of the brute to educate himself— what is 
 
SERMONS. 36I 
 
 the best thing you can do for him? Help him out 
 of his imbecility and stupefaction into capacity and 
 usefulness. Help the vicious to throw away the 
 shackles which fetter them, to overcome the habits 
 which enslave them, the appetites which degrade them, 
 and to practice self-restraint, purity, and manly en- 
 deavor. Thus do you not only bear the burdens of 
 others, but bear them away, aye, and roll them into the 
 sepulchre. 
 
 If however, the burden may not be laid down until 
 death comes with rest to the weary, then that is the 
 wisest sympathy which teaches the suffering in humil- 
 ity, resignation, and silence, or even with trustfulness 
 and joy, to carry the burden until the Father's hand 
 which laid it shall take it away. For there are burdens 
 which can be laid down only with the life. They who 
 bear them know what they are. You or I cannot bear 
 them for another, nor take them away — and yet we 
 may do much to lighten them, if our own lives but 
 shine forth with sympathy, with patience, with cheer- 
 fulness, with courage, with faith in Christ. The very 
 presence of Christ is rest to the weary : and what is true 
 of Christ is true of Christ's spirit, wherever, in whom- 
 soever found. 
 
 In our selfish moods we are tempted, it may be, to 
 complain of this arrangement, which makes us our 
 brethren's burden-bearers. "Where is thy brother?" 
 said God to Cain. "Am I my brother's keeper?" was 
 the reply. Ah ! that old question, how it keeps jump- 
 ing to our lips ! Have I not my own burden to carry ? 
 and is not that enough? Why should I worry myself 
 about another's? In our better moods, indeed, we are 
 ashamed of this spirit, ashamed that we have to fight so 
 against it. But is not this Divine arrangement a beau- 
 tiful and a loving one ? What if the world were consti- 
 
362 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 tuted on that Cain theory, that selfish principle, every 
 man his own keeper? What an unlovely place it would 
 be ! Misery is bad enough, but selfishness is misery in 
 hell. 
 
 On the other hand, this law of reciprocal sympathetic 
 help, sheds the fragrance of the rose, even over the 
 thorns of the wilderness. Brighter than the sunbeam is 
 the answering look of gratitude from relieved distress. 
 Sweeter than the droppings of the honey-comb are the 
 yearnings and tears of pity. More thrilling than the 
 song of triumph, is the conscious joy of rescuing the 
 perishing. 
 
 The poor we have always with us, and so the weak, 
 the suffering, the struggling, the heavy laden, we have 
 always with us. The more we feel for them and with 
 them, the more lovingly and absolutely we surrender 
 ourselves to their service — the stronger shall we be, the 
 gentler, the purer, the more helpful, more godlike 
 shall we grow. 
 
 And do you not know this, moreover, and I close 
 with this thought : To bear each other's burdens is the 
 best way to bear your own? Sometimes a man gets 
 rid of his own burden altogether, as soon as he ad- 
 dresses himself to the relief of others. This is es- 
 pecially true of those burdens which grow out of a 
 selfish life, or at least out of a life too much occupied 
 with self. And how many of our burdens are of this 
 class? We dwell in the shadow of our own thoughts 
 and feelings ; we think of ourselves ; we plan for our- 
 selves ; we judge of everything by its relations to our- 
 selves, and we thus heap up for ourselves doubts, anx- 
 ieties, disappointments, failure?, which well nigh crush 
 us. And the more we live in and for ourselves, the 
 more we mope, and pine, and fret, and fume, because 
 of these grievances, the heavier do they become, and 
 
SERMONS. 363 
 
 the more do they chafe and weary us. But let us forget 
 self, let us go to the help of others, and lift at their 
 burdens, and lo ! we lose our own ; our doubtings, and 
 fearings, and strivings vanish; we are free men. And 
 whatever may be the burden, the law is the same. Do 
 your part in bearing your brethren's burdens, and your 
 own will be, if not wholly removed, at least made much 
 lighter. There is the reaction of mutual sympathy; 
 there is the inspiration of love; there is the joy of 
 helping others; there is the assurance of the Divine 
 favor ; there is the sense of liberty, elevation and power, 
 which comes from conscious sympathy with God, and 
 conscious nearness to Him. How much better this 
 than to be staggering and stumbling under your own 
 load, thinking only of your own miserable self! Ah ! 
 my hearers, there is no service so poor as the service 
 of self. There is no such poor paymaster. There is 
 no life so fruitless, so joyless, and, in the end, so help- 
 less, as the life which has never brought help to an- 
 other, which has never been touched by the spirit of 
 Christ, which has never throbbed with his love for 
 God and man. He who cares only for the world, who 
 lives only in the present, only for pleasure, wealth or 
 power, what is there to hold him up when he feels 
 all giving away under his feet ? When the load is too 
 heavy, what is there left for him but to sink under it 
 in the dark depths of despair, it may be to seek refuge 
 in the dark depths of eternity ? I know in another city 
 a Missionary, aged, poor, crippled and blind. For 
 more than forty years he has loved and lived for God's 
 poor in that city, hobbling about on his crutches day 
 by day, feeling his way along through the reeking al- 
 leys and rickety tenements, to comfort, help and save 
 the needy, the sick, the degraded, the dying. The 
 thousands of those for whom he thus labors know, and 
 
364 LLEWELYN 10 AN EVANS. 
 
 love, and bless him. There is not a happier man under 
 God's sky to-day than he, for every day he is doing 
 Christ's work, and every day he finds his reward in 
 doing it. He does not know oftentimes where to- 
 morrow's loaf is to come from, and yet all the gold of 
 California could not tempt him from the work he loves. 
 Heavy as are his own personal burdens, he knows 
 nothing of them ; the only burdens he knows are those 
 of others, which in the fulfillment of the law of love 
 he is striving to bear for them. 
 
 I think I would rather be that poor, old, sightless 
 cripple, than to be the money-king of the market, 
 with all the power which gold can bring, but without 
 the love which the lust of gold devours, and without 
 the hope which the gold of the universe can not buy. 
 
 Oh, for grace to be more like Him who pleased not 
 himself, who took on him the form of a servant, who 
 bare our burdens in his own body, who became poor 
 that we, through his poverty, might be made rich. 
 
PREACHING CHRIST.* 
 
 My desire to-night in opening this new Seminary 
 year, is to speak a word which may tell to some good 
 purpose on the work of the year, and through the 
 work of the year, on the work of your life. You are 
 here to learn to preach, to prepare yourselves for the 
 business of preaching. What is it to preach ? What 
 are you to preach ? These are two questions of supreme 
 interest to each one of you. The second question is 
 that which I would consider with you to-night, and the 
 answer to it will carry with it the answer to the for- 
 mer question. 
 
 At the same time a brief preliminary examination of 
 the description which the New Testament gives of the 
 act of preaching, will prepare the way for an answer to 
 the question, what are we to preach ? 
 
 I. Preaching is, let me say to begin with, a specific 
 act in the generic category of teaching. This act of 
 teaching is, perhaps, the highest practical function of 
 the human intellect. The antecedent process of learn- 
 ing that which is to be taught, is doubtless of extreme 
 importance, involving some of the loftiest speculative 
 activities of the mind. But the process of teaching is 
 of paramount practical importance. In it is attained 
 
 * Although not technically a sermon, this address (delivered at the opening of 
 the Seminary year, Sept. 9, 1886,) is so full cf the highest and noblest kind of preach- 
 ing, that it was thought best to add it to this volume. As the mature expression cf 
 the author's idea of preaching, moreover, its title was chosen as the title of the vol- 
 ume. The sermons are examples of how to " preach Christ." 
 
 (365) 
 
366 LLEWELYN 10 AN EVANS. 
 
 the highest manifestation of mental power. The spirit- 
 ual giants of the race have been its teachers. And 
 this is the fundamental conception of preaching : teach- 
 ing. The great commission is, ' ' Go ye and teach all 
 nations." Bring all into Christ's school, that they may 
 learn Christ, and the things of Christ. 
 
 Learning Christ — that is practical Christianity. As 
 the Apostle writes to the Ephesians, "Ye have not so 
 learned Christ." 
 
 II. Another important New Testament term (xarayysX- 
 htv) describes preaching, as announcing, proclaiming, pub- 
 lishing abroad. " Christ whom we preach, (proclaim) 
 admonishing every man, and teaching every man in all 
 wisdom — that we may present every man perfect in 
 Christ." This term suggests a solemn, authoritative an- 
 nunciation of something which is of general moment, 
 of something which requires to be publicly promul- 
 gated. It is a term which specially befits the Gospel 
 Proclamation, as a Divine Revelation, as a Divine Mes- 
 sage, to be carried everywhere. 
 
 III. Another term in frequent use {luayyeXi^eadat) 
 describes preaching as specifically the proclamation of 
 Glad Tidings. The Gospel is good news to men. The 
 preacher is a messenger of joy that brings the message 
 of life to the dying, and speaks the word of hope to 
 the ear of despair. " How beautiful upon the mountains 
 are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that 
 publisheth peace, that bringeth good tidings of good, 
 that publisheth salvation, that saith unto Zion, thy God 
 reigneth." 
 
 IV. Still another term, perhaps, the most common 
 of all {xrjpvoaetv) describes the preacher as a herald. 
 So in one version of the great commission: "Go ye 
 into all the world and preach (herald) the Gospel to 
 the whole creation." " Preach (herald) the Word: be 
 
SERMONS. 367 
 
 instant in season, out of season." This term describes 
 preaching still more definitely than the preceding, as 
 a mediating agency, a representative function. The 
 preacher is a representative man. He is the ambassa- 
 dor of a Higher Power. He stands for God, and 
 speaks in the name of God. "We are ambassadors, 
 therefore, on behalf of Christ, as though God were 
 entreating by us, we beseech you on behalf of Christ, 
 be ye reconciled to God." This description emphasizes 
 the peculiar personal relations of the preacher. He 
 represents not a system, not an institution, but a being 
 — a personality ; not himself, but another. He is to 
 speak, not his own words, but the words which are 
 given for the purpose. He is to declare, not his own 
 notions, not his own thoughts, but the thoughts, feel- 
 ings, desires, purposes, of Him who hath sent him 
 forth. There is still another class of terms of consid- 
 erable extent and variety, which describes the work of 
 preaching as a work of serving, ministering, helping. 
 It is the preacher's special function to serve others, to 
 advance their interests. He is by way of pre-eminence 
 the servant, the minister. The law of self-subordi- 
 nation, is the distinctive characteristic law of his calling. 
 It is his peculiar privilege to encourage, warn, nurture, 
 comfort, to apply the gospel to the ever-recurring, 
 ever-varying needs of humanity, both in its social and 
 individual life. "Every Scripture is inspired of God, 
 and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, 
 for instruction which is in righteousness, that the man of 
 God may be complete, furnished completely unto every 
 good work." 
 
 So much for the act of preaching. Let us turn now 
 to the contents of the act. What are we to preach ? 
 In one word, we are to preach Christ, "Every day in 
 
368 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 the temple and at home they [the Apostles] ceased not 
 to teach and to preach Jesus, as the Christ." 
 
 "I determined not to know anything among you, 
 save Jesus Christ and Him crucified." 
 
 "We preach Christ crucified, unto Jews a stumbling 
 block, and unto Greeks foolishness, but unto them that 
 are called— both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of 
 God, and the wisdom of God." 
 
 "We preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus as Lord." 
 
 This then is preaching according to the Apostolic model 
 — to preach Christ, or, taking the above terms, accord- 
 ing to the definition given of each : 
 
 I. To preach Christ is to teach Christ. Christ is the 
 wisdom of God, and we are to instruct the world in that 
 wisdom. Paul speaks of "The dispensation of God, 
 which was given to him, to fulfill [fill to the full] the 
 Word of God, even the mystery which has been hid 
 
 from all ages, and generations which is Christ 
 
 in you, the hope of glory." "I strive that they may 
 know the mystery of God, even Christ in whom are all 
 the treasures of wisdom and knowledge hidden." It is 
 the preacher's mission to unfold the mystery, to unveil 
 the treasures of Divine Wisdom, which are stored 
 within it, to initiate men into this blessed secret of God, 
 which to know is life eternal. 
 
 II. To preach Christ is still further to announce Christ, 
 to spread abroad His glory, to proclaim Him as King, 
 as Savior, as Judge — the One for whom the isles have 
 waited, for whom the centuries have prayed. 
 
 III. And so, to preach Christ is to proclaim Him, as 
 the Joy of the world, God's Evangel of peace on earth — 
 and glory in the highest. - 
 
 IV. To preach Christ is to herald Him — to voice His 
 invitation, to mediate His thought, to interpret His life 
 
SERMONS. 369 
 
 and work to the world, to go before Him, to prepare 
 His coming. 
 
 V. And finally, to preach Christ is to apply Christ as 
 the panacea of the world's maladies, as the Bread of 
 Life for its hunger, as the Water of Life for its thirst, 
 as Heaven's answer to earth's questioning, as God's so- 
 lution of life's enigmas. "In Him dwelleth all the ful- 
 ness of the Godhead bodily, and in Him ye are made 
 full." 
 
 Having thus glanced briefly at the act of preaching 
 in its relations to the theme, let us direct our attention 
 more particularly to the theme itself. 
 
 What is it to preach Christ f 
 
 (1.) It is not of necessity to be all the time using the 
 name of Christ in our preaching. "Not every one that 
 saith unto me Lord, Lord, shall enter into the Kingdom 
 of Heaven." 
 
 Not every one that saith of Christ, Lord, Lord, shall 
 preach the Gospel of His Kingdom. There may be a 
 dry formal mechanical use of Christ's name, which is 
 utterly devoid of the spirit and life of Christ Himself. 
 It has often been remarked that the name of God is not 
 once found in the book of Esther — although the book 
 of Esther is from beginning to end, full of God. So it 
 is conceivable — I do not say it is probable — or that un- 
 less in very exceptional circumstances, it is at all desir- 
 able — that a sermon may scarcely once mention Christ, 
 and yet be full of Christ, all the way through. 
 
 (2.) To preach Christ is not of necessity to be all the 
 time making Christ the specific theme of the preach- 
 ing. The sphere of which Christ is the center is a 
 boundless universe : He irradiates with His own light, 
 every point in that sphere. There are in the Word of 
 God, themes without number, which in their Biblical 
 connections, receive a Divine consecration. Indeed 
 
370 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 there is no legitimate object of human thought or in- 
 terest, which, when contemplated in the solar light of 
 this Divine Centre, is not transfigured with a new glory. 
 
 Historic events and epochs, the rise and fall of 
 Babylon or Rome, the mission of Cyrus, of Charle- 
 magne, of Cromwell, the thought of Plato, the song of 
 Virgil, the vision of Dante, each and all will to the 
 Christian thinker, reflect Christ — as to the Christian 
 eye of Paul in Athens, the inscription of an altar, and 
 a line of Aratus shone with the truth which Christ had 
 taught him. . On the other hand, one may take Christ 
 for the formal theme of his sermon, and yet fail of 
 preaching Christ. To be the pulse of the preacher's 
 thought, Christ must be the pulse of the preacher's life, 
 He must be more than the figure-head of the sermon. 
 The sermon must flow out of the head of Christ, as the 
 stream came forth out of the rock, when smitten by the 
 rod of Moses. Thus let men today drink of that spir- 
 itual rock, which follows them — that rock which is 
 Christ. 
 
 (3) And so I remark, once again, there is a differ-, 
 ence between preaching about Christ, and preaching 
 Christ. A man may preach a great deal about Christ, 
 without preaching much of Christ himself. What is 
 said about Christ, is largely the shell. It is— to borrow 
 the nomenclature of philosophy — the phenomena in 
 Christ, as distinguished from the noumena ; the cir- 
 cumstantial in Christ, as distinguished from the essen- 
 tial ; the exterior as contrasted with the interior. It is 
 what they have thought and said about Christ, rather 
 than what the preacher himself has found in him. 
 It is Christ as a creed, rather than Christ as a reality ; 
 the halo, not the living sun. The business to which 
 the preacher is summoned is — let us never forget — to 
 preach Christ Himself. 
 
SERMONS. 371 
 
 But to look at the subject a little more in the con- 
 crete, let us particularize. Christ as the subject of 
 preaching, may be regarded : I. As a Personality ; II. 
 As the Truth ; III. As the Life. 
 
 I. Let us consider the significance which attaches to 
 the preaching of Christ in His personality : 
 
 1. At once the uniqueness of this personality, trans- 
 fixes our attention. He is the God-man; He is the 
 man-God. As man, He is God ; as God, He is man. 
 Here we have personality in its most complex organ- 
 ization. We have personality at the same time in its 
 most real, its most energetic, its most vital manifesta- 
 tion. Here, if anywhere, we may hope, will the mys- 
 tery of personality be solved. Here, at last, we shall 
 find its life-secret — that in personality, which imparts to 
 life its sacredness, and to duty its divineness. I need 
 not remind you of the difficulties which we encounter 
 as we explore the realms of personality. 
 
 You look at man — what do you see? On the one 
 side his nature reaches so low down — he is so earthly 
 in his affiliations, he is so bound up with his physical 
 environment, he seems to be so much a part of the 
 world of cause and effect — as to raise the question : 
 whether any special spiritual significance attaches to 
 man's being or destiny, whether personality is not after 
 all a modification of matter. On the other hand, you 
 look at personality in God, and you encounter diffi- 
 culties which meet you from the opposite side. You 
 carry personality up into the region of abstract infini- 
 tude, and you are beset with metaphysical perplexities 
 and contradictions — which suggest a doubt whether an 
 Infinite Personality is possible. But you look at Christ 
 and what do you see? Here you behold a personality 
 which is so decisively, so unmistakably supernatural, 
 that it is impossible to regard it as a mere phase of 
 
372 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 natural development — a personality which is inexplic- 
 able on any materialistic hypothesis. Here is a con- 
 sciousness which loses itself in the infinite. Here is a 
 Being using the personal pronoun I, who addresses 
 the Father as Thou, who speaks of Himself and the 
 Father, as We, who is at the same time, so completely 
 identified with our human experience, who touches at 
 so many points our common human consciousness, that 
 all metaphysical difficulties vanish in His presence. 
 Here, in a word, is a Being who unites in Himself all 
 the attributes of a human personality, with all the 
 attributes of Deity. Every instinct of our tempted 
 humanity, clings to Him as our Brother. Every in- 
 stinct of our redeemed humanity, cries out to Him as 
 our God. What is the inference? Necessarily, that 
 God in His infinite life, is a person, and that man in 
 his finite life is a person. By His mere personality, 
 by the reality of His personality, Christ vindicates the 
 right, the dignities, the prerogatives of personality in 
 the realms alike of the Infinite and of the finite. In 
 preaching this personality, we provide the surest anti- 
 dote to the negations of materialistic, agnostic, panthe- 
 istic doubt touching this fundamental fact. 
 
 2. Look again for a moment at the expressiveness 
 of this Christ-personality. We have in it the concrete 
 embodiment of the greatest spiritual realities, such as, 
 apart from Christianity, would exist for us simply as 
 abstractions. He personalizes for us the great divine 
 forces of the Universe. Let us look at one or two 
 of these. 
 
 To the modern intellect, there is, I suppose, no force 
 more overwhelming in its impressiveness and fascina- 
 tion, than Lav/. The thinker of to-day lives under the 
 reign of law, and glories in his chronology. "The 
 perception of this" [reign of law,] says the Duke of 
 

 SERMONS. 373 
 
 Argyll, "is growing in the consciousness of men. It 
 grows with the growth of knowledge, it is the delight, 
 the reward, the goal of science. From science it passes 
 into every domain of thought." Surely to the eye of 
 science, Law is a mighty sublime force. You all recall 
 Hooker's noble panegyric : "Of Law there can be no 
 less acknowledged, than that her seat is the bosom of 
 God, her voice the harmony of the world. All things 
 in heaven and earth do her homage, the very least as 
 feeling her care, the greatest as not exempted from her 
 power, both angels and men and creatures of what con- 
 dition soever, though each in different sort and manner, 
 yet all with uniform consent admiring her, as the 
 mother of their peace and joy." But you cannot help 
 observing how much of the dignity and impressiveness 
 of this eulogy, as well as of its rhetorical stateliness 
 and glow, comes from its personification of law. It is 
 no blind, impersonal force, which is here portrayed 
 before us ; it is the Queen of the universe, the mother 
 of our peace and joy, whose tender care of the least 
 and the greatest, combined with her awe-inspiring 
 power, commands our homage and admiration. How 
 much more winning is such a representaton of Law, 
 than that which science idolizes ; that inexorable im- 
 personal fatality, which executes its changeless decree, 
 without love, or pity, or remorse. Before this latter 
 you tremble — you cannot love it. And yet, where the 
 law is not loved, there can be no true moral perfection. 
 To obey the law, only because you fear it — to obey it 
 when perchance, indeed, you hate it, that is to be a 
 slave. Hooker's law, one could love — if such law 
 there were ; but alas, it is only an allegory. There is 
 no such Queen, there is no such mother. Have we 
 then no impersonation of law ? Let us see — what says 
 the Book? "In the beginning was the Word— and 
 
374 LLEWELYN 10 AN EVANS. 
 
 the Word was with God — and the Word was God. The 
 same was in the beginning with God. All things were 
 made by [through] Him, and without Him was not 
 anything made that hath been made. In Him was life, 
 and the life was the light of men." Or, according to 
 the margin of the revised version, "That which hath 
 been made was life in Him." What is this Word — 
 this Logos ? The term explains itself — it is the expres- 
 sion of the Divine Thought, the Divine Intelligence, 
 the Infinite Reason, as we see it voiced in the life, in 
 the order, harmony, movements of the universe. But 
 what is this Infinite Reason? It is no impersonal prin- 
 ciple — no It. The Apostle describing the Logos, says 
 he, him — not It, Nay, more, he goes on to say: 
 "And the Word became flesh (became man), and dwelt 
 among us full of grace and truth." Here we have, 
 Law Incarnate, the Divine Law, speaking, acting, 
 moving among men ; overflowing with grace and truth 
 and glory, as of the only begotten of the Father ; 
 crowned with the majesty of an absolute authority. 
 The Supreme authority for man must ever be a Su- 
 preme Will ; not a letter, not a force, not a mere im- 
 pulse or instinct, but a person, in whose every word is 
 the thunder might of God. "One is your Master, 
 even Christ." 
 
 " We preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus as Lord." 
 "Ye have heard that it was said to them of old time, 
 thou shalt not kill — but I say unto you." "I came 
 not to destroy the law, but to fulfill— to fill up its out- 
 line, to vivify, to energize it, make it a thing — nay, 
 rather a being — of life and power." 
 
 " In His life, the law appears, 
 Drawn out in living characters." 
 
 The whole law is summed up in love. Where will 
 you find love? Where, if not in Christ? What is 
 
SERMONS. 375 
 
 love? What but Christ? "We love because He first 
 loved." In Him is the possibility of love, in Him is 
 the inspiration of love, He is the Law of love. You 
 ask, what of the Decalogue ? I answer, it is an invaluable, 
 Divine epitome of duty. Yet the Bible itself argues 
 that the New Covenant is better than the Old, in that 
 it writes the law, not on tables of stone, but on the 
 living tablets of the heart ; and that the law on the heart 
 is Christ in the heart. In the same line of thought, 
 we might show that Christ is virtue personified. For 
 ages, philosophy has exercised itself about the ques- 
 tion : what is virtue ? We may doubt whether the final 
 answer has yet been found, we cannot doubt, however, 
 that the more of Christ is put into the solution, the 
 more satisfactory will it be. Take the idea of man- 
 hood: what is man? You listen to the rhapsody of 
 Hamlet : ' ' what a piece of work is a man ; how noble 
 in reason ; how infinite in faculties ; in form and mov- 
 ing how express and admirable ; in action how like an 
 angel ; in apprehension how like a God ; the beauty of 
 the world! the paragon of animals!" The description 
 dazzles you perhaps, but leaves no permanent impres- 
 sion or inspiration. The next moment you are tempted 
 to ask with the same Hamlet, "To me, what is this 
 quintessence of dust ?" You turn to the inspired ac- 
 count of man's creation. "God said, let us create man 
 in our image, after our likeness" — or read Paul's defini- 
 tion — "Man is the image and glory of God." Ah! 
 you say, " here is something much more definite and 
 satisfactory " — but alas : this is a world of sin, a world 
 of moral wreck and ruin. The image of God is shat- 
 tered and buried in the debris of the awful catastrophe, 
 where will you find the Divine man? You look to this 
 one and to that one, whom the world has called great 
 — to its sages and heroes, its avatars and apotheoses. 
 
376 LLEWELYN 10 AN EVANS. 
 
 But no, each one is a broken mirror, marred beyond 
 recognition. But in Christ you see the image, aye, the 
 very image of God — His glory, aye, the effulgence of 
 the Divine glory. Here you see humanity at its highest, 
 its largest, its best. The good in each and in all, in Him 
 reaches its best, and that in a form to compel admira- 
 tion, and to inspire imitation. 
 
 Look at the practical ends, the ideals of life, what 
 shall we aim at in living? You say: we have various 
 answers — Perfection, Nobleness, Symmetry, Self-culture, 
 Self-effacement: live for greatness, live for glory, live 
 for love. Well and good ! But after all, how shadowy, 
 how vague, how ineffectual are these ideals as motive 
 powers for the heart? But what says the Gospel? 
 "Live for Christ!" "Live so as to* gain Christ — to 
 realize Christ, to make Him yours, to show Him forth, 
 to glorify Him, to lose yourself in Him !" You live 
 not for an abstraction, but for a Person, and in living 
 for that Person, you live for greatness, goodness, power, 
 love, self-humiliation, self-exaltation, life — finding the 
 life in losing it. Here the ideal and the real meet. In 
 Christ, the idealist, the mystic, the man of contempla- 
 tion, the realist, the scientist, the man of action— each 
 finds his goal. "As many of you as were baptized into 
 Christ, did put on Christ." "There can be neither 
 Jew nor Greek, there can be neither bond nor free, 
 there can be no male and female, for ye are all one man 
 in Christ Jesus." This leads to the remark: 
 
 3. That to preach Christ, is to preach character. 
 The poet tells us that "the proper study of mankind is 
 man." Most assuredly it is the central study. None 
 is more attractive, more popular, more universal. Cul- 
 ture, itself, has taken the name of humanity. History, 
 biography, poetry, fiction, owe much of their hold upon 
 us to the charm of character, the spell of heroism. 
 
SERMONS, 377 
 
 The heroic song of Homer, the dramatic verse of Shakes- 
 peare, the historic page of Tacitus, or Gibbon, never 
 lose their fascination. The page which photographs a 
 human soul, is immortal. The throb of human passion 
 thrills the ages. The crystallization of a tear outshines 
 and outlasts the diamond. In preaching Christ, the 
 pulpit appeals to this universal and imperishable in- 
 stinct. It presents a heroic, a Divine Ideal, such as no 
 imagination has conceived ; a character, the charm of 
 which is deathless, which, the better it is known, the 
 more it fascinates, from age to age. The world is never 
 wearied with the study of the personality and the life 
 of Jesus. The growing light of the centuries, but re- 
 veals more and more its impressiveness, its beauty, its 
 power. 
 
 4. No less true is it, that to preach character, is to 
 preach Christ. This is implied in what has been said 
 already, respecting the abstract idea of character. To 
 the question: "What is character?" there is, as we 
 have seen, but one definite, tangible answer. You get 
 the clearest, fullest analysis of character in the analysis 
 of Christ. But, so also, where we come to the analy- 
 sis of individual character. A large part of the Bible, 
 is biography. Christ as the centre of the Bible, is the 
 centre of its biography. The lives of the Saints are so 
 many broken lights of the "Strong Son of God, Im- 
 mortal Love." The key of the life of Abraham, of 
 Moses, of Joshua, of David, of Paul, Peter, John, is 
 found in the story of the Man of Nazareth— and so of 
 the saints of all ages. It is the Christ in Augustine, 
 the Christ in Bernard, the Christ in a Kempis, the 
 Christ in Luther, in Zinzendorf, in Fenelon, in Wesley, 
 that gives the burning focus of life. He preaches 
 Christ, who preaches the reflections of Christ in the life 
 of His Church, who interprets His thought and spirit, 
 
37& LLEWELYN 10 AN EVANS. 
 
 in their purifying and illuminating agency, in the beauty 
 and character of His beloved. So, also, the antichrist, 
 the mystery of iniquity, finds its key in the life of 
 Christ. The false is known by the true, while at the 
 same time, it serves in part to the better definition of 
 the true. The Pharaohs, the Herods, the Pilates, the 
 Iscariots, the Neros of history, the abnormal develop- 
 ments of character, are to be measured and judged in 
 the light which falls on them from the Holy One. The 
 revelation of holiness is the revelation of sin. Christ 
 is the ultimate test of manhood, the touchstone of 
 character. By Him every man must stand or fall. 
 " Behold this child is set for the falling and rising up of 
 many in Israel, and for a sign which is spoken against, 
 that thoughts out of many hearts may be revealed." 
 
 II. But, I remark, in the next place, that the preach- 
 ing of Christ is an element of universal significance in 
 the proclamation of Revealed Truth. Christ says of 
 Himself: "I am the Truth." Let us dwell for a mo- 
 ment on the value of such a personalization of Divine 
 Truth. 
 
 i. A personalized idea is, as we have already seen, 
 far more definite and palpable to men's apprehensions, 
 than an abstraction. Personality translates the idea 
 into form, materializes it into substance. The diction- 
 ary of heroism is found in the life of a hero. You 
 learn the grammar of patriotism in the self-devotion of 
 a Leonidas, a Tell, a Washington, or a Lincoln. Im- 
 perialism finds its exponent in the Caesar. The Papacy 
 has its living embodiment in a Hildebrand or a Boni- 
 face. Christianity has its own complete expression in 
 the Christ. 
 
 2. But, still more, in the person the idea comes before 
 us not in fixed, rigid outline, but in its living develop- 
 ment. Here you have not merely the statics of truth, 
 
SERMONS. 379 
 
 but its dynamics. A true Christian theology is not the 
 anatomy of a skeleton, but the biology of a Divine 
 Life. Electricity, slumbering in the cloud, or in the 
 earth, is one thing. Electricity, riding upon the storm, 
 flashing in lightning from east to west, leaping in thun- 
 der from crag to crag, is quite another thing. So truth 
 in the Book, is, indeed, power, but truth in the life, 
 truth in the miracle, truth in the Cross, is the power of 
 God. The truth speaking in the Book is mighty to 
 save, because it is the Truth which died on the Cross. 
 3. Again, in its personal developments, the idea 
 presents itself in its organic relations to other ideas. 
 Here the statements of Paul apply: " As the body is 
 one, and hath many members, and all the members of 
 the body being many, are one body, so also is Christ. 
 The eye cannot say to the hand, I have no need of 
 thee, or again, the head to the feet, I have no need of 
 you. Nay, much rather those members of the body, 
 
 which seem to be more feeble, are necessary 
 
 and our uncomely parts have more abundant comeli- 
 ness, whereas our comely parts have no need. But 
 God tempered the body together." You dissect any 
 joint or organism by itself on the table, and you 
 have a far less vivid idea of its uses than you have 
 by studying it in its action, as part of a larger organ- 
 ism. To understand the working of the brain, you 
 must understand the anatomy and functions of the 
 nervous system. So, conversely, to understand the nerv- 
 ous system, you must understand the brain. Fully to 
 measure the brain and nervous system, you must under- 
 stand the action of heart, lungs, vein, muscle, cell, 
 tissue, in a word, of the entire physical man. So in 
 personality, above all in Christ, you have the living 
 organism of the truth, and you have the organic com- 
 plements of each particular truth or member. Thus, 
 
380 LLEWELYN 10 AN EVANS. 
 
 if you were to study the grace of humility by itself, 
 you would be liable to take a very one-sided view of it, 
 possibly (with the old heathen world) to despise it, as 
 a belittling of manhood. Its true significance and 
 beauty are to be seen only in the living combinations 
 of a Perfect Life. Mark, for example, in Christ, the 
 Divine dignity of humility. His very meekness and 
 lowliness attest His Kingship. "Take my yoke upon 
 you, for I am meek and lowly in heart.' ' 
 
 4. Once more, the impersonated idea gathers about 
 itself a more vital human interest. Men are generally 
 much more interested in personal than in impersonal 
 entities. Even the lovers of abstract thought find their 
 interest in it enlivened and enriched through more in- 
 timate acquaintaince with the personal channels through 
 which it has flowed. The thoughts of Philo or Spinoza, 
 have a fresher interest even for the philosopher, v/hen 
 read in the lives of the men. In like manner this 
 Divine philosophy which we call Christianity, arrests the 
 attention, and commands the interest of men, as no 
 other philosophy has ever done, because of the trans- 
 cendent grandeur of the personality through which it 
 speaks to us. Let us for a moment contemplate this 
 Personality as the embodiment of Divine Truth. "I 
 am the Truth." What does this declaration mean? 
 
 I. It signifies first of all, and speaking comprehen- 
 sively, that Christianity as a system, means nothing 
 apart from Christ. There are those who would resolve 
 Christianity into a creed, an abstraction, a code of laws, 
 a sermon or a parable, a poetic idyl, a social revolu- 
 tion. Not so; Christianity means Christ; and Christ, 
 not as a preacher, not as an ethical idealist, not as a 
 stern legislator, not as a reformer, but Christ in all 
 that Pie is — Christ as the Son of God, as the Son of 
 Man, as the Savior of the world : Christ as Prophet, 
 
 \ 
 
SERMONS. 38I 
 
 Priest, King of humanity. In Christianity, Christ is 
 everything. There is no dogma apart from Christ. 
 Its ethics have their conscience only in the cross. Its 
 laws have their " categorical imperative," only in the 
 authority of the Master. Its social creed has its inspi- 
 ration only in the spirit of the Carpenter of Nazareth. 
 Its uplifting forces have their nerve center in His sub- 
 lime passion. Its philosophy has its Divine Light in 
 the Divine Heart, from which it flows. One more 
 creed in the world, one more school, one more system 
 of morals, one more philosophy, one more Utopia — 
 what were that? There is enough ; more than enough 
 of all that. The world is crowded with precepts and 
 rules. The air is thick with speculations and bubbles. 
 The day is full of dogmas, and the night is full of 
 dreams. What we need is substance, reality, the liv- 
 ing tongue of fire, the living heart of flame, the mag- 
 netic quickening touch, the pulsating throb, the saving 
 grasp of an Almighty Hand ; the Creative Power, the 
 Resurrection Power, which comes from personal con- 
 tact with a personal God. 
 
 Christianity means that, or it is nothing. 
 
 2. And what is true of Christianity as a whole, is 
 true of each particular truth in Christianity. Every gos- 
 pel truth means Christ. Apart from Christ, it is barren, 
 impossible, or false. The subject is too vast for more 
 than one or two brief hints. Let us take by way of 
 illustration, the three great truths, which Kant has de- 
 clared to be the cardinal principles of religion : God, 
 freedom, and immortality. 
 
 (1.) Take the truth respecting God. How vivid and 
 practical does this become in Jesus Christ ! I have al- 
 ready adverted briefly to the significance of Christ's 
 personality as a factor in His revelation of God. The 
 man who has known the personal Christ, has seen, in 
 
382 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 His truest Shekinah, the personal God. "He that 
 hath seen me, hath seen the Father." "No man hath 
 seen God, the only begotten son [or God only begotten] 
 which is in the bosom of the Father, He hath declared 
 Him " — exegeted God, drawn Him out, and set Him 
 forth, so that He may be personally apprehended by 
 men. But take another aspect of the Divine Being. 
 Take the Infinity of God. In the abstract conception 
 of God, this Infinity is a metaphysical notion which is 
 beset with many speculative and logical embarrassments. 
 So serious are these embarrassments, that the late la- 
 mented Dr. Henry Smith, of this Seminary, in his 
 recently published critique of Spinoza's Ethics, has felt 
 called upon to repudiate the philosophical infinity, as 
 an unscriptural notion, in its application to God. From 
 this position, indeed, I must withhold my own assent. 
 
 I believe, however, that our earnest and brilliant Pro- 
 fessor was quite correct in teaching that the metaphys- 
 ical side of this Divine Quality is not the one which the 
 Scriptures make prominent. The Divine Infinity, as we 
 see it in Christ, is certainly not the transcendental infi- 
 nity of the logician, but the moral, the spiritual infinity 
 of Supreme Perfection — a positive, mark it, rather than 
 a negative reality. Here, for example, we see Truth 
 as an infinite quantity, Truth as the field of Omniscience, 
 Truth as the product of the Divine Thought, Truth as 
 a Divine Infinite Force in the moral history of the uni- 
 verse. In Christ we see the Infinite of Holiness, the Infi- 
 nite of Righteousness ; that is, we see these qualities as 
 omnipotent energies, put forth for the suppression of 
 evil, and for the restoration of spiritual order and peace. 
 In Christ we see the Infinite of Patience, the Infinite of 
 Pity, the Infinite of Love ; these qualities, that is, as 
 moral omnipotencies, with an energy mightier than 
 light or gravity, with a potency more subtle than the 
 
SERMONS. 383 
 
 sweet influences of the Pleiades, winning a lost world 
 to its fealty to the eternal throne. For such a stupen- 
 dous manifestation of God, no thought, no word, of 
 smaller compass can suffice than this — Infi?iite — Infinite 
 in every possible sense of the word. And this Infinite 
 means Christ. 
 
 (2.) Take Kant's second cardinal principle of religion, 
 Freedom. Man is free, He stands outside the chain of 
 causality and necessity. This must be so, we believe, 
 if religion, nay if morality, is to exist at all. But as an* 
 abstract dogma, how difficult to establish this freedom. 
 How liable we are in discoursing about it to become 
 lost in the wandering mazes of ' ' fixed fate, free will, 
 fore-knowledge absolute." " He must be free !" 
 
 Aye, but nevertheless he is in bondage. But, you 
 say, ' ' he is conscious of responsibility, and of guilt for 
 wrong-doing." Very true; the argument is in itself 
 conclusive. But how difficult, nay, how impossible, to 
 make this sense of guilt practically effective. Man, 
 alas ! is a sinner, and one most disastrous curse of sin is 
 that it deadens the sense of guilt ; and one effect of this 
 insensibility, is to weaken the force of the argument for 
 responsibility and freedom. But what do we find in 
 Christ ? 
 
 First of all, in His own personality, representing as 
 He does the most perfect humanity, we see a practical 
 illustration of the Law of Liberty, which puts its reality 
 beyond question. Next we find, that in the presence of 
 Christ, and under the active influence of His personality 
 and love, sin becomes a reality, human responsibilty 
 becomes a reality, and therewith human freedom be- 
 comes a reality. Finally in active spiritual union with 
 Him, through the participation of the Divine Nature, 
 which comes through the incorporation of our souls 
 with Him, man is lifted above all the limitations of his 
 
384 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 sinful estate into a royal realm of liberty and power, 
 wherein he walks, wearing on his brow the crown of a 
 son and heir of God. 
 
 "The law of the spirit of life in Christ Jesus made 
 me free from the law of sin and of death." 
 
 (3) Take the third Kantian principle — Immortality. 
 There is, I doubt not, a distinct witness to our immor- 
 tality, impressed upon the very constitution of our 
 being. There is an ineradicable instinct, which tells 
 us that as our personal identity is independent of the 
 mutations of the body in life, so it is independent of 
 its final dissolution in death. A man can not, without 
 doing violence to the facts of his being, bring himself 
 to believe that death ends all. And yet, it must be 
 confessed, there are difficulties connected with our be- 
 lief in immortality, which make it exceedingly desirable 
 that some more sure witness should be found to it. 
 We need that this vague instinct should be exalted 
 into a clear and well defined hope ; that this hope 
 should be strengthened and intensified into a steadfast 
 and vigorous belief; that this belief should be organ- 
 ized into a positive, practical force, in shaping and up- 
 lifting the life of the present. This service only Christ 
 can render us. He is Himself a living witness of im- 
 mortality — "I am the Living One, and I was dead, 
 and behold I am alive for evermore." He demon- 
 strates the congruities of manhood and immortality. In 
 Him we see a type and grade of life of which immor- 
 tality is the worthy sequel and crown. " He brought 
 life and immortality into light" — first life, then immor- 
 tality. Men have lost their faith in immortality, be- 
 cause they have lost their faith in life. Christ reveals 
 to us a life which is worth living now, and which, be- 
 cause it is worth living now, is worth living forever. 
 Note how, that here again, Christ brings to us a con- 
 
SERMONS. 385 
 
 ception of immortality of far higher value and potency 
 than any merely metaphysical notion. What do we 
 learn from metaphysics ? Mark the word Immortality f 
 the negation of death, the negation that is of a nega- 
 tion. But what does Christ give? Eternal Life. 
 "Because I live, ye shall live" — a Christ-life which is 
 the necessitating cause of the human life ; a human life 
 which is the responsive parallel of the Christ-life. The 
 life which Christ gives and inspires, is a life which re- 
 quires immortality, as its scope and outcome. Thus 
 we see, that in Christ alone, do we have the certitude 
 and fulness of religious truth. I do not say that 
 Kant preaches his religious trinity altogether in vain, 
 but something more is needed to silence the world's 
 doubts, and to satisfy the needs of humanity. Whether 
 we seek to know God, to realize freedom, to be as- 
 sured of immortality, Christ is the Truth. In Him 
 we have not a truth, not some truth, not certain 
 truths, not truth and truths about God — but in Him 
 we have The Truth, the Reality. He is God, He is 
 Freedom, He is Eternal Life. 
 
 When we advance to the truths which are more 
 specifically characteristic of the Christian System, we 
 see still more clearly how the substance of all these 
 Divine Realities, inheres in Christ. Let me give by 
 way of illustration, one brief passage from Paul. Mark 
 in the reading of it, how every fact, every reality on 
 which the Apostle touches is identified with Christ. 
 "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus 
 Christ who hath blessed us with every spiritual bless- 
 ing in the heavenly places in Christ, even as He chose 
 us in Him, before the foundation of the world, that we 
 should be holy and without blemish before Him in 
 love ; having fore-ordained us unto adoption as sons 
 through Jesus Chkist unto Himself, according to the 
 
386 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 good pleasure of His will, to the praise of the glory of 
 His grace, which He freely bestowed on us in the 
 Beloved, in whom we have our redemption through 
 his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, accord- 
 ing to the riches of His grace, which He made to 
 abound toward us in all wisdom and prudence ; having 
 made known unto us the mystery of His will, accord- 
 ing to His good pleasure, which He purposed in him, 
 unto a dispensation of the fulness of the times, to sum 
 up all things in Christ, the things in the heavens, and 
 the things upon the earth, in Him, I say, in whom also 
 we were made a heritage, having been fore-ordained 
 according to the purpose of Him who worketh all 
 things after the counsel of His will, to the end that we 
 should be unto the praise of His glory ; we who had 
 before hoped in Christ, in whom ye also having heard 
 the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, in 
 whom having also believed, ye were sealed with the 
 Holy Spirit of promise, which is an earnest of our in- 
 heritance, unto the redemption of God's own posses- 
 sion, unto the praise of His glory." How thoroughly 
 en-Christed is the whole chain of redemptive acts and 
 processes which here stretches out before us. Christ 
 is the Alpha of the series, and the Omega of the series, 
 and every link lays hold on Him. And so, through- 
 out the Epistle, at every step and turn, fifty times 
 or more: " In Christ," " In Him," "In Whom," 
 "through," "because of," "with," "for," "unto," 
 "into" Christ. If now we were to analyze each of 
 these specifications in its own connection, we should 
 find boundless vistas and horizons opening before us. 
 Look at the central statement of the passage just read ; 
 the general purpose of God is in Christ. The regnant 
 idea of the Divine Plan as it runs on with increasing 
 volumes through the ages, is Christ. The controling 
 
SERMONS. 387 
 
 law of the movement of the world is the thought, the 
 life, the will, the movement, which we see imperson- 
 ated in Christ. He is the archetype of the universe. 
 In Him all things were created. In Him all things 
 subsist, cohere. All the forces of cohesion, interadap- 
 tation, co-operation, and correlation, have their center 
 in Him. In Him all things culminate. What Faul 
 calls the anakephalaiosis, the summation, the unifica- 
 tion, the final expression of Being in absolute harmony 
 and perfect beauty, is to be realized in Him: "To 
 sum up all things in Christ." As Whittier calls Him 
 the flower of man and God, so we may call Him the 
 grand consummate flower of the universe. 
 
 So again, of the Particular Purposes of God. Be- 
 lievers are chosen, fore-ordained, adopted, constituted 
 God's personal property — all in Christ. Those myste- 
 rious redemptive processes, which our theologies refer 
 to the Divine Sovereignty, were all "in Christ." 
 What does this thought imply? They are not to be 
 regarded as arbitrary processes, partial, exclusive, cold, 
 hard, but in them all the attributes of God act in 
 joyous and loving harmony. Nay, more, all these at- 
 tributes thus act, as we see them impersonated in 
 Christ — the same unerring insight as in Christ, the same 
 comprehensive wisdom, the same impartial righteous- 
 ness, the same discriminative purity, the same unspeak- 
 able gentleness, the same transcendent perfection. The 
 fore-ordaining love of eternity is the redemptive love 
 of time. The heart which shaped the counsels of the 
 God-head, is the heart which bled on Calvary. Elec- 
 tion, fore-ordination, justification, adoption, remission, 
 re-unification — all are integral acts of the one great re- 
 demptive process, throbbing from everlasting to ever- 
 lasting, with one eternal, universal purpose. In elec- 
 tion, itself, there is the same largeness of benevolence, 
 
388 LLEWELYN IOAN EVANS. 
 
 the same tender yearning of pity, the same tearful an- 
 guish in respect to the lost, that we see in the whole 
 redemptive work of Jesus ; the same that thrills the 
 soul on Olivet, in Gethsemane, on Calvary. For all is 
 in Christ, and we are not to interpret Christ by the Di- 
 vine Decrees, but to interpret the Divine Decrees by 
 Christ. 
 
 We are only on the threshold of our theme, but we 
 can not particularized any further in this direction. 
 Nor can we stop to consider at all, the third division 
 of our theme : Preaching Christ as the Life. 
 
 The many practical applications of our theme we 
 must also pass by. Let me simply, in conclusion, 
 urge you, my brethren, to keep this subject distinctly 
 and constantly before your minds. Let it shape your 
 thoughts and studies, your work and life, in the 
 Seminary. 
 
 As preaching Christ is to be the business of your 
 ministerial life, so let learning Christ be the business 
 of your Seminary life. Let every lesson be learned at 
 His feet. Let every deed of service be performed 
 under His eye. Let every heart-throb beat with your 
 bosom close to His. Seek Him in every study. Seek 
 Him in every duty. Seek Him in every truth you 
 learn, in every fact you master, in every ability you 
 acquire. Seek Him in every struggle with self, with 
 sin, with the world. Seek Him in every experience of 
 sorrow or joy, of success or failure. Make Him "the 
 light of all your day, the master light of all your see- 
 ing." Let every thought be Christ. Let every prayer 
 be Christ. Let every purpose be Christ. Let every 
 sermon be Christ. Let every action be Christ. And 
 may it be yours, each one of you, to say, now, here- 
 after, and forever: for me to live is Christ. And to 
 Him be the glory, world without end. Amen. 
 
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