CHAPTER 5
INSTANCES OF POWER
At the Bala Association of 1807 — Preaching at Pall Mall, Liverpool —
Massillon and Whitefield — Preaching at Cemaes, Anglesey — Great
descriptive power at Tredegar — Effect of his preaching upon
foreigners — Great descriptive power at Bangor — Great power at
Bala — Again at Carnarvon — Again at Pwllheli.
In the year 1807, John Elias was, as usual, in the Association
at Bala. The first days of these Associations were spent with
various matters in connection with the cause. After this was
over, the last day was always devoted to preaching services.
In this Association, John Elias and Evan Richardson, his old
teacher in the school at Carnarvon, were appointed to preach
together in the service at two o'clock in the afternoon. The
chapel was full of people ; and there were hundreds
outside that were unable to gain admission. One of the
other preachers opened the service by reading and prayer.
After the prayer, Mr. Elias got up, and stood in the window
of the chapel, so that he might be able to preach to those
within and without. His text was Eph. iii. 18, 19 :
" That ye may be able to comprehend with all saints what is
the breadth and length and depth and height ; and to know the
love of Christ, which passeth knowledge, that ye might be
filled with all the fullness of God." Before he had gone far
with his sermon, the people in the chapel began to shout with
joy. He beseeched them earnestly to control their feelings,
that they might not obstruct and hinder the service, in order
that those who had come from a great distance might not
have come there in vain. After that they became much
calmer to the end of the sermon. The preacher was clothed
with the power of the Holy Ghost. The Gospel from that
window was crowned with great majesty and glory. The
thoughts of the preacher seemed to flow without end from a
perennial fountain ; and his commanding eloquence was like
the rush of a mighty wind and the sound of many waters.
He commenced preaching at twenty minutes past two, and
continued till four o'clock. Mr. Richardson then got up ;
but not to preach. He said, "Let us pray." He himself was
in the happiest feelings during the sermon, and he prayed
very fervently ; and the pent-up feelings of the congregation
within and without broke out with irresistible force, and there
many of them continued praising God till the next service at
six o'clock.
In the month of December, in the year 1809, he was preaching in the chapel at Pall Mall, Liverpool. His text was Eph. ii. 12: "That at that time ye were without Christ." In this sermon he gave a most vivid picture of the lost condition of men without Christ. While he delineated that terrible state, the minds of the hearers were filled with awe. They beheld the ungodly without Christ ; and they were afraid lest they themselves should be amongst the number. The preacher appeared to be in a terribly earnest mood. He was drawing no imaginary picture ; but a picture that was real, there and then, in that chapel. And, with his tears falling down his cheeks, he shouted with a loud voice, "To be without Christ! Oh! Oh! the dreadful condition of men without Christ! No tongue can ever describe, no mind can ever comprehend the terrible state of that man that is without Christ! He is naked, and without anything to put on ; he is diseased, and without a physician ; he is famished, but there is no bread for him; guilty, and no righteousness for him; vile, and no fountain to wash him; lost, and no Redeemer; damned, and no salvation for him!" After this pathetic strain, from the abundance of his own feebleness, he wept, and put his face in his hands down on the Bible ; and the people meanwhile were in a flood of tears. After a short pause, he lifted up his head, his countenance beaming with the brightest and sweetest smile. "Blessed be God! Every man that is without Christ here to-night need not be so any more. He can have Christ this moment!" And the congregation responded, with a shout of gladness, "Thanks be to God for ever!"
Massillon, when he was delivering his funeral oration upon Louis XIV in Notre Dame, repeated those words of his text slowly, " Lo, I have become great ! " He looked upon the assembly clothed in black, then upon the sombre pomp of the funeral, and upon the mausoleum in the centre of the church ; he then lifted up his hands to heaven, and said, "God alone is great, my brethren!" And with one impulse the people rose to their feet and turned towards the altar, and made a reverent bow. Once when Whitefield was preaching, Lord Chesterfield was among his hearers; the preacher was graphically describing a poor blind beggar, who had been left by his dog ; the place was dangerous, a precipice being not far off. The blind man was moving on, and drawing nearer and nearer to the brink. So vivid was the description that Lord Chesterfield actually rushed forward and said, "He is gone, he is gone ! "The eloquence of John Elias was often of this description ; he had a wonderful power of causing his audience to realize what was said. "Those, mine enemies," he said once, "which would not that I should reign over them, bring them hither, and slay them before me." The power with which he uttered these words, says a man that heard him, and who is now living, was so great, that he and others felt as if there was a mighty decree going forth for all the enemies of Christ to be brought forward there and then for execution.
He was preaching at Cemaes, in Anglesey, upon the doom of the ungodly : he painted hell and its torments with such power that, according to an eye-witness, the people felt that hell was really before them, and that they themselves were on the point of falling down into the flames. One of the hearers suddenly shouted, "Oh, for Mr. Richardson, if it were only for five minutes!" (Mr. Richardson, Carnarvon, whose sermons were always upon the bright side of the Gospel.)
In the Association at Tredegar, South Wales, John Elias was preaching upon the words (i Cor. xv. 3) : "For I delivered unto you first of all that which I also received, how that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures.'' A man that was present at the time said that the vivid descriptions of the preacher were such that they not only heard of the Crucifixion, but saw it. This was in the morning service; the Rev. Ebenezer Richards was to preach at two o'clock. He commenced by saying, "My dear friends, I question whether I shall be able to preach to you to-day, because my mind has been so thoroughly overcome and absorbed by the sermon we heard this morning. I was thinking - when I heard our dear brother describing the Crucifixion of our Lord Jesus Christ - that it took place on the rising ground there, and that it was no history or description, but reality."
He was preaching once in a town where many Englishmen were, and some Frenchmen, who were prisoners of war at the time. Having heard of his great fame as a preacher, they went out of curiosity to hear him, and they testified that, though they understood not a word of what was said, yet there was something in the preacher, his earnestness, his powerful delivery, his looks, and appearance, which they had never seen or heard before. (Whitefield and Lady Huntingdon bear witness to the same thing; in the preaching of Daniel Rowlands).
In the month of December, in the year 1809, he was preaching in the chapel at Pall Mall, Liverpool. His text was Eph. ii. 12: "That at that time ye were without Christ." In this sermon he gave a most vivid picture of the lost condition of men without Christ. While he delineated that terrible state, the minds of the hearers were filled with awe. They beheld the ungodly without Christ ; and they were afraid lest they themselves should be amongst the number. The preacher appeared to be in a terribly earnest mood. He was drawing no imaginary picture ; but a picture that was real, there and then, in that chapel. And, with his tears falling down his cheeks, he shouted with a loud voice, "To be without Christ! Oh! Oh! the dreadful condition of men without Christ! No tongue can ever describe, no mind can ever comprehend the terrible state of that man that is without Christ! He is naked, and without anything to put on ; he is diseased, and without a physician ; he is famished, but there is no bread for him; guilty, and no righteousness for him; vile, and no fountain to wash him; lost, and no Redeemer; damned, and no salvation for him!" After this pathetic strain, from the abundance of his own feebleness, he wept, and put his face in his hands down on the Bible ; and the people meanwhile were in a flood of tears. After a short pause, he lifted up his head, his countenance beaming with the brightest and sweetest smile. "Blessed be God! Every man that is without Christ here to-night need not be so any more. He can have Christ this moment!" And the congregation responded, with a shout of gladness, "Thanks be to God for ever!"
Massillon, when he was delivering his funeral oration upon Louis XIV in Notre Dame, repeated those words of his text slowly, " Lo, I have become great ! " He looked upon the assembly clothed in black, then upon the sombre pomp of the funeral, and upon the mausoleum in the centre of the church ; he then lifted up his hands to heaven, and said, "God alone is great, my brethren!" And with one impulse the people rose to their feet and turned towards the altar, and made a reverent bow. Once when Whitefield was preaching, Lord Chesterfield was among his hearers; the preacher was graphically describing a poor blind beggar, who had been left by his dog ; the place was dangerous, a precipice being not far off. The blind man was moving on, and drawing nearer and nearer to the brink. So vivid was the description that Lord Chesterfield actually rushed forward and said, "He is gone, he is gone ! "The eloquence of John Elias was often of this description ; he had a wonderful power of causing his audience to realize what was said. "Those, mine enemies," he said once, "which would not that I should reign over them, bring them hither, and slay them before me." The power with which he uttered these words, says a man that heard him, and who is now living, was so great, that he and others felt as if there was a mighty decree going forth for all the enemies of Christ to be brought forward there and then for execution.
He was preaching at Cemaes, in Anglesey, upon the doom of the ungodly : he painted hell and its torments with such power that, according to an eye-witness, the people felt that hell was really before them, and that they themselves were on the point of falling down into the flames. One of the hearers suddenly shouted, "Oh, for Mr. Richardson, if it were only for five minutes!" (Mr. Richardson, Carnarvon, whose sermons were always upon the bright side of the Gospel.)
In the Association at Tredegar, South Wales, John Elias was preaching upon the words (i Cor. xv. 3) : "For I delivered unto you first of all that which I also received, how that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures.'' A man that was present at the time said that the vivid descriptions of the preacher were such that they not only heard of the Crucifixion, but saw it. This was in the morning service; the Rev. Ebenezer Richards was to preach at two o'clock. He commenced by saying, "My dear friends, I question whether I shall be able to preach to you to-day, because my mind has been so thoroughly overcome and absorbed by the sermon we heard this morning. I was thinking - when I heard our dear brother describing the Crucifixion of our Lord Jesus Christ - that it took place on the rising ground there, and that it was no history or description, but reality."
He was preaching once in a town where many Englishmen were, and some Frenchmen, who were prisoners of war at the time. Having heard of his great fame as a preacher, they went out of curiosity to hear him, and they testified that, though they understood not a word of what was said, yet there was something in the preacher, his earnestness, his powerful delivery, his looks, and appearance, which they had never seen or heard before. (Whitefield and Lady Huntingdon bear witness to the same thing; in the preaching of Daniel Rowlands).
At Bangor Association, he was preaching upon Acts xxvi.
28, 29: "Then Agrippa said unto Paul, Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian. And Paul said, I would to
God, that not only thou, but also all that hear me this day,
were both almost and altogether such as I am, except these
bonds." He described the condition of Paul at the time, and
the circumstances in which he was placed. He stood before Festus, the governor, and King Agrippa and Bernice, with the
chief captains and principal men of the city ; and he was there
a prisoner in bonds for the Word of God and the testimony of
Jesus Christ. The graphic description he gave of these circumstances, especially of the prisoner in bonds, made a sailor
that was there shout over the place, " Shame, shame, strike off
those chains from the man's hands!"
At the close of an Association at Bala, he was preaching upon Isa. xlix. 24: "Shall the prey be taken from the mighty, or the lawful captive be delivered?" With intense dramatic effect, he said: -
"Satan, what sayest thou? Shall the prey be taken from the mighty? Never! I will intensify the darkness of their minds, the hardness of their hearts, the power of their sins, and the strength of their chains. Never shall the prisoners be delivered. The feeble efforts of these preachers I scorn and despise.
"Gabriel, Gabriel, messenger of the Most High, Shall the prey be taken from the mighty ? I am afraid not. For two days have I been hovering over this great multitude, while they hear the words of everlasting life ; but I have not yet seen the chains knocked off, and the prisoners set free. And now, the meetings are nearly over, and I cannot carry the tidings home of the repentance of a single sinner."
He then turned to the preachers upon the stage, "What think you, ministers of the dying God? Shall the prey be taken from the mighty? Alas, Who hath believed our report, and to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed ? We have laboured in vain, and have spent our strength for nought. The Lord is as if He were hiding His face from us. We are afraid there is but poor hope of deliverance.
"Zion, Shall the prey be taken from the mighty? Alas, the Lord hath forsaken me, and my God hath forgotten me. I am abandoned and left alone, and my enemies say of me. This is Zion, whom no man seeketh after. I feel doubtful enough about their deliverance.
"Ye men of prayer, what say you? Shall the prey be taken from the mighty? Lord God, Thou knowest. High is Thy hand, and strong is Thy right hand. Oh, that Thou wouldst put forth Thy mighty power and overcome. Though we are weary and near fainting, yet we have a slight hope that the Jubilee of the prisoners is at hand."
Then, looking towards heaven, he said: "And what is the mind of the Lord respecting these captives?' Thus saith the Lord, Even the captives of the mighty shall be taken away, and the prey of the terrible shall be delivered. Blessed be God in heaven, there is not the slightest shadow of a doubt about the question, but everlasting certainty. The ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion, with songs and ever- lasting joy upon their heads."
John Elias preached at Carnarvon upon the words (Matt. XXV. 30): "And cast ye the unprofitable servant into outer darkness: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth."
He said he would not keep altogether to the verse he had taken as a text, but would take up the whole parable of the talents. He said, "It is a talent to be a man ; it is a talent to be in Wales ; it is a talent to be a man, for if thou wert a devil there would be no hope for thee ; it is a talent to be in Wales, for if thou wert in China thou wouldst be a pagan ; and if in Rome, a Papist." After graphically describing the man of one talent, who had made no use of it, who had hid his master's talent in the earth, and who now was returning it to his lord as he found it, with the words, " There thou hast that is thine!" he described his lord commanding his servants to bind him hand and foot and to cast him into outer darkness. "Bind him!" "Why should we bind him ? He is not a drunkard, he is not a robber, he is not a murderer." "But he is unprofitable, he has not used any of the great privileges that were given him in this world. Bind him, I say! But who is he Is he a pagan? No ; he is a man that has heard the Gospel thousands of times ! Is he a Papist ? No ; he is a Protestant, and a Methodist, that has heard all the powerful sermons of these Associations ; he is a man who is to-day, in the Carnarvonshire Association. 'Bind him hand and foot and cast him into outer darkness : there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth!'"
Then, when the congregation was almost gasping for breath, with deepening earnestness he appealed pathetically to the multitude, — "Oh ! lend me now a thousand prayers. I feel my spirit this very moment in contact with souls in convulsive agony, passing through from death into life." And now deep sighs were heard in the congregation.
Then he went on again with his theme — the Lord reckoning with His servants : "You must give an account of everything you have had. Thou must reckon with thy Lord for every shilling thou didst ever possess.'' '* I never squandered Thy money" "If thou hast not squandered My money thou hast squandered My Father's money.''
Mr. Lloyd, Beaumaris, was behind him in the pulpit, and smiling. John Williams, Llecheiddior, was sitting below, and from the impressive solemnity of the subject and the place, he shouted, " O friends, what shall we do?" "Come to Christ without delay," said William Havard, who sat by him, "I am with Him long ago!" John Jones, Talsarn, and William Morris, Cilgeran, were weeping, and all the congregation deeply moved. When John Ehas saw several of the preachers weeping he changed his voice and countenance, and a sweet smile played upon his lips. He said : "The service of our Lord is not hard ; God, in Christ, reconcileth the world unto Himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them — without imputing, without imputing their trespasses unto them." With these words a burst of thanksgiving and praise to God broke forth, and the preacher could follow no further. He closed by giving out a beautiful Welsh hymn: —
At the close of an Association at Bala, he was preaching upon Isa. xlix. 24: "Shall the prey be taken from the mighty, or the lawful captive be delivered?" With intense dramatic effect, he said: -
"Satan, what sayest thou? Shall the prey be taken from the mighty? Never! I will intensify the darkness of their minds, the hardness of their hearts, the power of their sins, and the strength of their chains. Never shall the prisoners be delivered. The feeble efforts of these preachers I scorn and despise.
"Gabriel, Gabriel, messenger of the Most High, Shall the prey be taken from the mighty ? I am afraid not. For two days have I been hovering over this great multitude, while they hear the words of everlasting life ; but I have not yet seen the chains knocked off, and the prisoners set free. And now, the meetings are nearly over, and I cannot carry the tidings home of the repentance of a single sinner."
He then turned to the preachers upon the stage, "What think you, ministers of the dying God? Shall the prey be taken from the mighty? Alas, Who hath believed our report, and to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed ? We have laboured in vain, and have spent our strength for nought. The Lord is as if He were hiding His face from us. We are afraid there is but poor hope of deliverance.
"Zion, Shall the prey be taken from the mighty? Alas, the Lord hath forsaken me, and my God hath forgotten me. I am abandoned and left alone, and my enemies say of me. This is Zion, whom no man seeketh after. I feel doubtful enough about their deliverance.
"Ye men of prayer, what say you? Shall the prey be taken from the mighty? Lord God, Thou knowest. High is Thy hand, and strong is Thy right hand. Oh, that Thou wouldst put forth Thy mighty power and overcome. Though we are weary and near fainting, yet we have a slight hope that the Jubilee of the prisoners is at hand."
Then, looking towards heaven, he said: "And what is the mind of the Lord respecting these captives?' Thus saith the Lord, Even the captives of the mighty shall be taken away, and the prey of the terrible shall be delivered. Blessed be God in heaven, there is not the slightest shadow of a doubt about the question, but everlasting certainty. The ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion, with songs and ever- lasting joy upon their heads."
John Elias preached at Carnarvon upon the words (Matt. XXV. 30): "And cast ye the unprofitable servant into outer darkness: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth."
He said he would not keep altogether to the verse he had taken as a text, but would take up the whole parable of the talents. He said, "It is a talent to be a man ; it is a talent to be in Wales ; it is a talent to be a man, for if thou wert a devil there would be no hope for thee ; it is a talent to be in Wales, for if thou wert in China thou wouldst be a pagan ; and if in Rome, a Papist." After graphically describing the man of one talent, who had made no use of it, who had hid his master's talent in the earth, and who now was returning it to his lord as he found it, with the words, " There thou hast that is thine!" he described his lord commanding his servants to bind him hand and foot and to cast him into outer darkness. "Bind him!" "Why should we bind him ? He is not a drunkard, he is not a robber, he is not a murderer." "But he is unprofitable, he has not used any of the great privileges that were given him in this world. Bind him, I say! But who is he Is he a pagan? No ; he is a man that has heard the Gospel thousands of times ! Is he a Papist ? No ; he is a Protestant, and a Methodist, that has heard all the powerful sermons of these Associations ; he is a man who is to-day, in the Carnarvonshire Association. 'Bind him hand and foot and cast him into outer darkness : there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth!'"
Then, when the congregation was almost gasping for breath, with deepening earnestness he appealed pathetically to the multitude, — "Oh ! lend me now a thousand prayers. I feel my spirit this very moment in contact with souls in convulsive agony, passing through from death into life." And now deep sighs were heard in the congregation.
Then he went on again with his theme — the Lord reckoning with His servants : "You must give an account of everything you have had. Thou must reckon with thy Lord for every shilling thou didst ever possess.'' '* I never squandered Thy money" "If thou hast not squandered My money thou hast squandered My Father's money.''
Mr. Lloyd, Beaumaris, was behind him in the pulpit, and smiling. John Williams, Llecheiddior, was sitting below, and from the impressive solemnity of the subject and the place, he shouted, " O friends, what shall we do?" "Come to Christ without delay," said William Havard, who sat by him, "I am with Him long ago!" John Jones, Talsarn, and William Morris, Cilgeran, were weeping, and all the congregation deeply moved. When John Ehas saw several of the preachers weeping he changed his voice and countenance, and a sweet smile played upon his lips. He said : "The service of our Lord is not hard ; God, in Christ, reconcileth the world unto Himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them — without imputing, without imputing their trespasses unto them." With these words a burst of thanksgiving and praise to God broke forth, and the preacher could follow no further. He closed by giving out a beautiful Welsh hymn: —
''Ti Farnwr byw a meirw
Sydd ag allweddau'r bedd,
Terfynau eitha'r ddaear
Sy'n dysgwyl am dy hedd;
Dyw gras i ti ond gronyn,
Mae gras ar hyn o bryd,
Ryw filoedd maith o weithiau
I mi yn fwy na'r byd."
On September 16, 1831, John Elias preached on an ever-memorable occasion at Pwllheli, Carnarvonshire. His text
was Psa. Ixviii. i: "Let God arise, let His enemies be
scattered." There were several thousands present at the
time. Seldom was there such an overwhelming power following the preaching of even John Elias. All the people, without
exception, seemed to feel the authority of the Gospel of Christ ;
and there was a consciousness in the congregation that God
had already arisen. The Rev. Lewis Jones, of Bala, told Dr.
Owen Thomas, Liverpool, that he never in his life was in such
a place, and under such strong feelings, as in that service.
The man in the pulpit had really become to him an object of
terror. He was sitting in the side-pews, and a strong fear
possessed him lest John Elias should turn to that side of
the chapel in the movements of his eloquence. A great number
throughout the western parts of Carnarvonshire were added to
the Church of Christ as the effect of that sermon, and the
occasion proved the beginning of a great revival in that part
of the country.A butcher — who had never thought for a moment in his lifetime that he possessed an immortal soul, who had always imagined that when death came he would perish like the beasts of the field — went to hear John Elias on this great occasion at Pwllheli, and was converted under that sermon. This word "converted," mark, is of no ambiguous meaning here. This man, for the first time in his life, was roused from his oblivious sleep. From that moment he felt that he had a spirit, that he was to live for ever, and that he was the enemy of God. He became a new man henceforth, and his life a new life. This is only one case out of hundreds of similar ones that followed the preaching of that sermon at Pwllheli.
Dr. O. O. Roberts, Bangor, had gone out one morning with his gun and two dogs for sport. In returning he came across a path that led him, unawares, past a small chapel in the neighbourhood of Llanrwst, where a monthly presbytery and preaching meeting was held. Before he reached the spot he could hear the voice of some one speaking with great enthusiasm', and when he came to the chapel he found it was Jolm Elias. His text was the writing by the fingers of a man's hand upon the wall of the king's palace, Mene, Mene, Tekel Upharsin. He paused a moment, attempting to go forward towards home^ but he stood as if paralyzed, and could not move an inch ; the gun dropped from his hand, and he had no power to lift it up; he forgot the dogs and all. The preacher was in the height of his eloquence ; the doctor could see with his own eyes the fingers of the hand writing on the plaster of the wall of the chapel, as real as it was in the feast of Belshazzar ; in so graphic a way was the event brought before his mind. He stood upon the court in front of the chapel, and, according to his own testimony, as given to a friend afterwards, he felt his hair standing on his head like the quills of a porcupine. (See Dryso7-fay 1871, p. 114)
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