The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913, 1895-03-16
A SERMON THAT DID SOME GOOD.

AS Iemigrated from Wales at the tender age of
IL months it was not to be expected that
could preach in my mothcr-tongue as one to
the manner born when l went back to the old
country a fullblown preacher in 1882.
The worst of it was that I was consumed with
the desire to preach one sermon in Welsh be-
fore died. When l was divinity student
had worked at that sermon, during the years of
my preaching had put finishing touches to
it, and on the boat going l embellished it
every day. Perhaps some people will think
this an unnecessary amount of labor, but let
them try to throw off gems of oratory in a
language they want to use fiuently, but cannot,
and let that language be Welsh. They will I'M
derstand then why wrestled so long with that
sermon.
l happened to reach my native village just
in time to celebrate the eighty-second ami
versary OF Unitarianism in Wales and when
they invited me to preach my first thought
was, This is my chance for using the sermon"
Sunday r-orning arrived, and the people
came from far and near to the service in traps
and dogcarts, wagonettes and even hay-wagons,
TILL the churchyard was surrounded by vehicles
and the church was thronged with people.
1t was with considerable trepidation that
went up the pulpit steps with my Welsh SER
mon in the right pocket and an English one in
the left wondering whether / dared preach to
these people in their own tongue. However
much or little English they knew they all IN
derstoOd Welsh and could criticize it.
But would they be critical? A glance at the
simple, kindly folk-the men in smock-frocks
and the women in quaint pointed hats-was so
reassuring that pulled out the Welsh sermon
ana began in hurry, like man who plunges
into cold wster. more delighted congrega-
ton it would have been impossible to find, for
the villagers took it as a personal compliment
that any one should come from America and
preach to them in their beloved Welsh.
My success was so marked that the clergyman
of neighboring parish insisted that I should
preech for him the following Sunday.
"But it would take me years to preach
another Welsh sermon,' pleaded.
preach the same sermon over again." re-
piled the clergyman cheerily, and he added
"You know there are more than eight miles
between my two parishes. You might preach
it at the other in the afternoon"
The following Sunday when 1 arrived at my
friends church cold Precipitation bespangled
my brow TO find the same traps and dogcarts,
wagonettes and hay-wagons, around the
churchyard, and almost abe same congregation
occupying the benches of the church. How
ever, as l could not preach extempore in Welsh
under any pressure of circumstances, the only
thing was to deliver the same old sermon.
After hasty lunch the pastor and | drove off
to the other parish. The road was very pictur-
esque, but in the intervals OF admiring the
scenery I could not help noticing that the
same traps and dogcarts, wagonettes-Yes, and
hay-wagons-that had become so familiar to
me were going in the direction that we were.
"Do the people all live this way?" l asked.
"oh, no." replied the clergyman carelessly,
"they are going to afternoon service"
"But they are the same peoplel" cried, in a
voice broken by anxiety.
eyes; we generally have about the same
congregation" he answered soothingly
"And my sermonl'' walled.
Preach it again." replied the pastor. "You
will get used to repeating it by and by"
And the worst of it was that his prophecy
came true, for that sermon must have been
heard twelve times in the neighborhood alto
gether-and always by the same congregation.