As Treherbert was the last place which Mr Evan Roberts was to visit before Christmas, I thought it would be well to obtain and publish in a definite form his Christmas message—if there should be one— to the public. When I first saw him he declared that the Spirit told him not to say anything. He afterwards told me he had had a telegram suggesting that he should appeal to the Churches of all denominations as to the advisability of keeping their chapels open over Christmas, but that he thought it would be better not to do so, as the people might think there was a kind of compulsion in an appeal of that kind, and he would prefer that it should be left to the Churches to do whatever they might be led to do. I went to the meeting at Horeb Chapel, Treherbert, and after a while Mr Roberts appeared, while the congregation was singing “Ar ei ben bo’r goron.” They afterwards sang “Diadem,” to the words ending “Mai cariad ydyw Duw” and “Crown Him Lord of All.” Mr Evan Roberts immediately plunged into his subject, and described, without mentioning the situation of the scene on Calvary, a vision of the Crucifixion. There were three persons nailed to crosses, and in the centre the Christ, Who was sacrificed for us. If they could only realise the greatness of His suffering they could not help loving Him. They could not possibly be lukewarm. What were they going to be? Hot, cold, or lukewarm? (A Voice: “ Ar dan i gyd “— “All on fire.”) The impersonal character of our religion was, he said, an element which might to be eliminated. He himself used to think of the Saviour very frequently, only as somebody else’s Jesus, but now it was “my Jesus”; and when they fully realised this, they could not help loving Him. He had found that at one time he did not love Jesus enough. When he received the fullness of Christ’s love into his own heart it overflowed. Let them think of it: Jesus wept over the sins of Jerusalem. Could they weep over sins. Had they wept? Had they lost their sleep? Had they lost the sweat? Had they shed blood? Or had they lost friends? Had the face of God been hidden from them? Had they been striped by the lash? Had they worn a crown of thorns? Had they carried the cross on their shoulders? No? Well, Jesus went through all that? If they realised it they would wholly surrender themselves: and if they loved Him, they would be like Him. Those who loved the Lord Jesus Christ prayed and worked. “My Father works,” “I also work”; the Holy Spirit also worked. In remembering the scene in the garden—”Wrth gofio’I ruddfanau’n yr ‘Ardd”—who could help feeling? Who could help loving? (The hymn referred to was sung by the congregation.) Artists continued Mr Roberts, have portrayed Jesus nailed to the Cross; but I have not yet seen a picture of the actual nailing. I remember once at Loughor I could see a Roman in the act of nailing my Saviour to the Cross. I could see him kneeling on His arm; see the nail being driven in; see the hammer falling. O! gwyddoch chwi?” (“Oh, do you know?”) and the missioner completely broke down at the remembrance of the vision, The congregation now sang “Pen Calfaria.” Resuming, Mr Robert’s said: “The Church has been sleeping, but she ‘Is awake and putting on her armour now, and marching ~triumphantly. But do not make a mistake: God cannot do a great work through you without doing a great work within you first.” After describing a meeting held In Loughor at which “y saeth weddi”” (a brief, direct prayer) had been used, and the immediate effect of it, Mr Roberts said: “One great lesson we have to learn is to keep sight of God —never to lose sight of Jesus.” The moment this was uttered the congregation began singing “Never lose sight of Jesus,” and for the first time in my acquaintance with him the missioner himself sang, enthusiastically, “Never lose sight of Jesus, Never lose sight of Jesus; Day and night He will guide you aright, Never lose sight of Jesus,” When this had been repeated several times Mr Roberts began singing it in Welsh:— “Cadwn ein golwg ar Iesu; Cadwn em golwg ar lesu—. Nos a dydd, ein Arweinydd a fydd—, Cadwn ein golwg ar Iesu.” The congregation again joined, and when the end of the verse came Mr Roberts started it again and again, smiling when someone in the gallery reverted to the English rendering, and then singing it in English himself, over and over again, so that the whole building reverberated with the music and the words, and the missioner and congregation were roused to a high pitch of fervour. At the close of the service I met Mr Roberts and remarked that judging from what I had seen and heard, the Spirit had moved the missioner to utter, very clearly, too, a Christmas message,—“Never lose sight of Jesus.” He joyously smiled, and said, “Well, it is a message which I felt, and I remember a Cardiff man grasping my hand firmly and saying, ‘You have the right thing—“Never lose sight of Jesus,” “ and Mr Roberts again, in the room in which we were entertained at Brynfedwen, began singing joyously, “Never lose sight of Jesus.” Mr, Roberts added, “Most people sing it, ‘Day and night He will lead me aright,’ but I prefer singing it, ‘Day and night He ‘will guide me aright’” And he again struck up the musical and fascinating message. “Shall it be the message?” I asked. He smilingly nodded assent and went on again singing, “Never lose sight of Jesus.
From, 'The Western Mail', 23rd December 1904.
Although salvations are not mentioned, there were many in the town.