EVAN ROBERTS
By Gwilym Hughes
EVAN ROBERTS, REVIVALIST
Story Of The Liverpool Mission
by Gwilym Hughes
(Special Correspondent of the "South Wales Daily News")
WITH A SPECIAL ARTICLE ON THE REVIVALIST AND THE
MISSION BY SIR EDWARD RUSSELL,
Editor of the "Liverpool Daily Post and Liverpool Mercury."
About This Booklet
It was Wednesday 29th March, 1905 that Evan Roberts began his only
mission outside of Wales, in the city of Liverpool, where scores of
thousands of Welsh people lived. He laboured there almost three weeks>
and it is estimated that 750 converts joined the churches as a result of his
ministry. Each evening of the campaign Gwylim Hughes hurriedly wrote
a short sketch of his observations of the meetings and telegraphed them
to the South Wales Daily News, 170 miles away. This book is comprised
of these eighteen vibrant and first-hand sketches.
Preface
THE extraordinary, not to say the marvellous, incidents that marked the
visit of Mr. Evan Roberts, the central figure of the great Welsh Revival of
1904-5, to the city of Liverpool, and the widespread interest they aroused,
call for a permanent record; and the request has reached me from many
quarters for a reproduction in book form of the sketches which, during
those never-to-be-forgotten three weeks, it was my duty to telegraph each
evening to the South Wales Daily News. I am indebted to Messrs. D.
Duncan and Sons, the proprietors of that newspaper, for their kind
permission to comply with this request, and the enterprise of Mr. E. W.
Evans has made possible the reproduction of the sketches in the form
they now assume.
For these sketches no literary merit is claimed. Slip by slip the copy had
to be written hurriedly each evening in the heat and excitement of
crowded gatherings and handed to telegraph messengers in waiting, for
transmission over the wires. Thus, often, the first, half of each evening's
message would be set up in type in the printing office 170 miles away ere
the second half was completed. For this reason the sketches undoubtedly
lack in literary polish; but for the same reason, they have, I venture to
believe, the compensating quality of conveying to the reader the vivid
impressions produced by the many incidents at the very moment of their
happening.
The Liverpool meetings will be memorable for the new phase therein
revealed of Mr. Evan Roberts' wonderful powers.
It was in November, 1904, that after a short term of six weeks at the
Newcastle Emlyn Grammar School, he suddenly returned home to
Loughor, and there, in his native village on the Glamorgan border,
kindled the first spark of the revival which, by the end of February, had
set the whole of Glamorgan, Monmouthshire, and East Carmarthenshire
ablaze and added 80,000 converts to the churches. Then, suddenly at
Neath he withdrew into silence and solitude. For seven days and seven
nights he kept to his room "commanded of the Spirit" to remain mute,
and commune only with God. Emerging from that retirement, he
divested himself of all worldly possessions, sharing his savings
(amounting to £350), among a number of churches, and travelled to
Liverpool in literal obedience to the Divine command - "Take nothing
for your journey, neither staves, nor scrip, neither bread, neither money."
In Liverpool, we saw the missioner turn prophet. We heard his
predictions and marvelled as we witnessed their fulfilment. We listened
- often in pain - to his denunciations of the secret thoughts of men
around him; but, looking back, I cannot recall a single condemnation of
the kind that was not afterwards fully justified. Theologians and
psychologists may explain these things; my province is that of the
historian.
As to the beneficial effects of the mission, let it suffice that during the
three weeks 750 converts were added to the churches; that professed
Christians enjoyed a real deepening of the spiritual life; and that numbers
untold have been compelled to turn serious thoughts to the great issue of
"the life beyond."
GWILYM HUGHES
Cardiff, April, 1905.
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION
By Sir Edward Russell,
Editor of the Liverpool Daily Post and Mercury.
Mr. Evan Roberts and the Mission.
"The Silent Evangelist" has held his last Liverpool meeting. During the
stay of Evan Roberts, while attention has been largely attracted, few have
known what to say. Many have not known what to think. But from first
to last the phenomena have been unique, and, in presence of them he has
received, not only from all communions, but from the general public,
demonstrations of respect and interest. There has been no indifference.
There has been astonishingly little scepticism. Any scepticism there has
been has scarcely been expressed. The general sentiment has been that
there could be no doubt of the need to which Evan Roberts's
ministrations have been addressed; that the success of those ministrations
showed that he could make the need felt; and that, as good must result -
God speed to it. No one who has encountered this young man has
doubted his good faith. No one could doubt his power over people of his
nation. Nor has anyone disputed the reality of those traits which his
admirers celebrate: his intense and searching gaze, his ready and
illustrative action, his curiously bewitching smile, his devout and
strenuous silences, his appearance of being amenable to instantaneous
impulses, which he takes to be Divine. In this respect it has been rather
shrewdly suggested by a thoughtful member of the Society of Friends
that what has happened with Evan Roberts is only what happens at every
Quakers' meeting. Nor need more be made of it, though there were one
or two incidents which favoured a more fanatical or more supernatural
theory. The idea of good thoughts being put into the mind by God is one
of the first to be entertained, one of the last to be surrendered. He who
can with most conviction and effect convey such communications to
others is the best George Fox or Evan Roberts. In each of these cases the
thing specially notable - the distinctively new trait in evangelism is the
silence, which much overbalances the speech. The trait which has been
least mentioned as to Evan Roberts, but which has been most new, has
been the entire absence of personal push.
If anyone had gone into the great Welsh Calvinistic Church in the Princes
Road, on Saturday evening, without any previous information, he might
well have failed to discover - at all events, till after four hours, and then
he might have been forgiven for missing it - that the 2,500 denselypacked,
visibly excited people assembled had come to hear, and were
longing to bear, a young man who in the main sat saying nothing, doing
nothing, with his head on his hands. He might have been the Rev. John
Williams's unimportant subordinate, waiting to take a message or to start
a hymn. Those who have seen other revivals must know how totally
different this is; and the evidence seems sufficient that from the beginning
of his career in Wales Evan Roberts has behaved in the same way.
Leaving unoffered the transcendental explanation which his disciples in
solemn confidence advance, we may suggest as a rationalistic explanation
the character and ways of the Welsh. There may have been in camp
meetings in America scenes comparable to that of Saturday night. There
have been no such scenes among the English. Go back to Wesley and
Whitefield; come down to Moody and Sankey; if you will, to Torrey and
Alexander; in all the revivals of these there was the visible personal
domination, and in the last two contrived music. Whereas in the Welsh
revival all is voluntary, impulsive. This one starts praying, that one starts
singing, over the whole area of the congregation. The responses to what
is heard are numerous. Response pervades. But no one obtains
monopoly as mouthpiece. As often as not the weird, rhythmic, oftrepeated
cadence of the Welsh petition, frequently in lovely female voices
mellowing from moment to moment under the influence of spiritual
passion, is the expression of some personal agony or ecstasy; desolation
because of some dear one's insensibility to the Divine love or the Divine
authority; joy at the remembrance and the experiences of salvation; tragic
horror at the thought of hundreds then and there on the road to spiritual
ruin; giant-joy in the faith that they will yet be saved.
Ever anon comes by swift casual force of humble personal initiative,
bursting amidst and overwhelming the exclamations and pleadings, the
great, inimitable volume of Welsh hymnody - a vast, solemn, deliberate
torrent of majestic melody. This, the warp of the magnificent soundfabric.
Shooting across it a grand woof of many harmonies, strong,
vigorous, pealing, startling, with all the effect - nay, more than the effect
- of the noblest counterpoint; greater in effect because the singers, the
whole assembly - all knowing the words - are to the manner born of
this matchless musical achievement. A venerable Welsh friend whispers
as you murmur your almost unspeakable admiration, "Because it comes
from the heart." But even then you know that it comes from the heart of
a national being and essence, which has no peer in the musical expression
of spiritual emotion - perhaps no peer in popular possession by spiritual
realities. And this knowledge is deepened as you receive from kind,
eager friends suggestions of the poetic purport of these wonderful, chiefly
minor-key lyrics of two-thousand-voiced power. One of them is an
impassioned appeal for likeness to Christ. Another pours forth in aeolian
strains the air that breathes from Calvary. Another surveys from
Calvary's height all the glories of the world, and serenely declares their
true place in the scheme of things, and the higher range of truths which
Calvary's deed and doctrine have made part of the continuous experience
of humanity.
When the adhesions of converts begin to be taken the singing take
another tone - that of pure joy. A hymn-verse is repeated and repeated
in triumph, and the genius of the people seems to give newness even to
the seventieth repetition. Of the solos, inspired by the wildest emotions
and often sung with frenzied gesticulations in appeal to the Almighty -
but always well sung - we need not speak. Let us note how Evan
Roberts rises and without posing mounts to the height of the occasion.
He eagerly turns the leaves of the pulpit Bible. He struggles with the evil
principle which he seems to see rampant among the unyielding of his
hearers.
He dissolves into his own smile at the thought of precious Bible passages
and sidelights. Big book on shoulder he transacts, but not theatrically, the
lost sheep reclaimed and so carried by the Good Shepherd. Then comes
stress of gloom, and he buries his head in his hands and arms. Anon
comes the head uplifted, the face suffused with the smile, prompted by
something he or another has said. And a curious Welsh peculiarity is that
what is a smile in Evan Roberts is often a quick genial laugh in some of
his hearers. And when you seek the humorous cause, it was no humour,
but a glad recognition of a familiar, household-word, spiritual joy.
Meanwhile, you are one of a vast assembly which for three or four hours
has been, as far as you can judge, intensely and individually racked by
anxiety for the salvation of the unsaved minority present. We are using
the language which best expresses the ideas of the rapt participators in
the scene. It is a great illustration of the strength of the personal
redemption idea in the popular religion of this country that where it is
realised it can produce such a scene, and though the Welsh temperament
is necessary for enacting it, English sympathy has no difficulty in
understanding it. This is true not only in England and Scotland, but in
America and in the colonies - wherever English is spoken. May we
venture to suggest that here comes in the permanent moral of the Evan
Roberts Revival period?
Are our clergy in their regular ministrations justified in laying aside or
leaving to occasional revivalists, as they undoubtedly have done for
years, the active prosecution of the doctrine and practice of conversion?
Whenever British religion has been earnest and zealous this element has
been its key. Because it is in the background in the beautiful quietism of
Keble, the sacerdotalism of Pusey, the reasoned continuity of Newman's
Catholicism, the Oxford Movement has, after all, been a penchant rather
than a popular power. There is, of course, much converting grace in High
Church teaching, and Conversion was long the main business of the
Evangelicals, who had to import it into Anglican usage and phraseology
in order to do under Church of England forms their work in the world.
But of late years the direct insistence on the New Birth has gone much
into desuetude. Yet, if there is one irrefragable human fact, denied by
none of any faith, it is that it must be right and saving (in every sense) to
turn with full purpose of heart to good and to God. The extent to which
this must be connected, either in rationale or method, with this or that
dogma, must be decided by this and that Church. The important thing
for the world is that all Churches alike should insist on the one central
necessity on which Evan Roberts has been insisting, and for which, under
his mystical stimulus, thousands personally and many thousands
vicariously have during the past few weeks in Liverpool been wrestling
with angels. Perhaps the most pathetic incident of Saturday evening was
when it was pleaded for a young man in the galleries that in infinite
distress he was willing and wishful to "decide," but that on Monday he
would have to go to work among his companions, and he felt that then he
might fall. Weak and foolish? Yes; but it is to strengthen such honest
Fainthearts and triumphantly to extirpate by grace such cowardly folly of
unaided human nature that the Gospel ought to be preached, and
effectually, every Sunday. Such is the accruing lesson of the Evan Roberts
Liverpool mission.
One other thing must in honesty be said. Things that exist cannot be
annihilated either by ignoring them or by denouncing them. Let it be
quite understood that the real results of sound inquiry as to Revelation
are not got rid of either because Dr. Torrey protests against them, or
because Evan Roberts says nothing about them. It was distinctly no
business of Dr. Torrey as an Evangelist to make futile protests against the
results of scholarship and reason. It was no business of Evan Roberts to
deal with any such matter: He showed good sense, good taste, and a
sound spirit in adhering to what was his business. The important body of
ministers by whom the Welsh Churches are served are more and more
cultured. The juniors are taking B. D. degrees at the new Welsh
University. For these degrees they are examined by some of the finest of
Biblical scholars. The testimony of those who know is that the members
of Welsh congregations love the old unction, for which they have a
special and untranslatable word, quite as well as ever, but they exact also
weight and thought. It is natural and right that the pivot fact of the New
Birth not only should be continually urged, but may at times collect
around it an accumulated force of special interest and attention. But the
ministers will lead the people into blindness if, either in their teaching or
tacitly, they allow it to be thought that the truths of conversion are
incompatible with the truths of the intellect. Happily there is not even
incongruity between them. We should deprecate in the Revival
atmosphere even an unconscious laying aside of intelligent conclusions.
The New Birth not only does not render unnecessary - it demands -
intellectual sustenance of the New Life.
Sketch 1
The Inaugural Meeting at Princes Road,
LIVERPOOL, Wednesday, March 29, 1905.
Mr. Evan Roberts, this evening, commenced his work in Liverpool, and
for the next fortnight or three weeks, so it is now arranged, he will
minister among the scores of thousands of Welsh people who are residing
in and around this great city. We of South Wales are well aware how
heavily the Liverpool visit has, during the last month, weighed on the
missioner's mind. It was one of the reasons given by him for his
retirement into the seven days' silence and solitude at Neath, but he left
his home at Loughor yesterday fully persuaded that his efforts here
would secure the Divine blessing. Among the Welsh churches of the city
and suburbs, embracing all denominations, the visit has been anticipated
with feverish anxiety, and recent events, with the delays and
uncertainties they involved, have served only to heighten the fever. The
Liverpool Welsh Free Churches Council, the body that has charge of the
mission arrangements, organised in preparation for it a thorough canvass
of the Welsh people of Liverpool. These, it was found, numbered 30,000,
and of these 4,000 are described as non-adherents - that is to say,
persons who do not attend any place of worship. During the next few
days' special efforts will be made to bring these within the influence of
the revival.
Tonight's opening meeting was at Princes Road C. M. Chapel, a
handsome edifice often described as the cathedral of Welsh
Nonconformity. It stands on the Princes-road Boulevard - a magnificent
avenue leading to Sefton Park, and within easy access of the centre of the
city. Simultaneously another meeting was held at the Mount Zion
Wesleyan Chapel, close by, and this was likewise crowded out. That Mr.
Roberts would appear at one or other of these meetings was generally
known, but, outside the committee, no one knew which of the two places
he would select. At six, the chapel doors were thrown open, and for the
next twenty minutes a force of Liverpool police - all Welsh-men - had
as much as they could do to control and marshal the great and excited
crowd besieging the entrances. Under normal conditions Princes-road
Church is assured to seat 1,800 people. This evening it was packed in
every corner, though the aisles were kept free. The stewards had strict
orders to prevent anybody standing in the aisles, and the injunctions
were rigidly observed. Among the occupants of the deacons' pew I
observed practically all the best-known leaders of Welsh Nonconformity
in the city. The Rev. John Williams, the pastor of the church, one of the
great preachers of Wales, was conspicuous, and so also were Dr. Owen
Evans, ex-president of the Congregational Union of Wales, Revs. D.
Adams (C.), W. M. Jones (C. M.) David Jones, W. O. Evans (W.), O. R.
Owen (C.), J. Lewis Williams (C.), Owen Owens (C. M.), J. D. Evans (C.
M.), W. Owen (C. M.) Robert Lewis (W.), J. Hughes, BA., B. D. (C.M.), Mr.
W. Evans, chairman of the Liverpool Welsh Free Churches Council,
Councillor Henry Jones (secretary), and others.
An hour ago, as I wended my way to this meeting, my companion, one of
the best known laymen of the Welsh Calvinistic Methodists, incidentally
remarked, "This is a great and risky experiment, to transplant the
revivalist from his native Glamorgan." It was with some such doubts
also that I scanned this great gathering. Before the missioner arrived, the
atmosphere seemed to entirely lack that spiritual electricity we have been
accustomed to associate with revival gatherings in the Southern province.
Indeed, for the first half-hour the congregation seemed too eminently
respectable to do anything of its own initiative, and assumed an air of
expectancy and curiosity that was chilling, if not absolutely fatal to
anything approaching enthusiasm and spontaneity.
The opening prayer was offered by the Rev. J. Lewis Williams (C.), who it
was interesting to learn is the successor at the Great Mersey Street Church
of the Rev. Peter Price, now of Dowlais, the writer of the recent attack
upon the missioner and his methods. He was followed by the Rev. W. O.
Evans (Wesleyan), and subsequently, after some urging from the "set
fawr," a few prayers were offered in the congregation, and a number of
hymns were sung. The revival "fire," however, had not yet been kindled.
Promptly at 7 o'clock Mr. Evan Roberts entered the pulpit from the vestry
behind, looking in excellent health. With him were Miss Annie Davies
and his sister, Miss Mary Roberts. They were followed by the Rev. D. M.
Phillips, of Tylorstown. Their advent seemed to arouse no special
interest. Evidently, the stolid, phlegmatic Northman is not so easily
excited as his mercurial brother in the South.
Is the revivalist disappointed? This meeting, after his recent experiences,
must seem to him something like an approach to the Arctic regions. He
sits in one of the pulpit chairs, and for the next hour and a half utters not
a word.
Meanwhile let us glance at the audience. Gradually we become conscious
of an increase of fervour in the hymns. The prayers too, seem attuned to
a more spiritual key. We hear the same hymns that we sing in the South,
but - with a difference. They are all here sung in the minor key, and the
tempo is slow and at times almost dragging? Those who pray are of all
ages, old and young. At last, here are two on their feet simultaneously,
both praying loud and long, and ere they finish someone strikes up a
well-known hymn. Presently, the whole congregation is singing with
something akin to enthusiasm.
A minute later Miss Annie Davies is rendering her first revival solo in
Liverpool. It is "I need Thee every hour," and we note with delight that
her voice is so far recovered that today it is as pure as it was in the early
days of the revival, and shows no signs of wearing. Her example inspires
many other sisters to participate in the service, and the prayers that
follow in rapid succession from half a dozen young women in various
parts of the building are stirring and truly eloquent.
It was 8.30 when the missioner first broke silence, and then it was in
terms of severe reproof. Someone had started the quaint Welsh hymn "Y
Gwr wrth ffynon Jacob," the congregation taking it up to all appearance
with great heartiness. But when the fifth line was reached, in which a
desire is expressed for closer contact with God, the missioner, who had
for some half-hour been burying his face in his hands, suddenly sprang
up and, with right arm uplifted and features tear-stained, peremptorily
called upon the congregation to stop. There was instant obedience. "You
ask for closer contact with God," he exclaimed in severe tones, "when
there are in this very meeting hundreds of obstacles to the coming of the
Spirit. There are scores, nay, hundreds here who during the last hour
have disobeyed the Spirit. The lesson of prompt obedience to the Holy
Spirit must be learnt at all costs. He must be obeyed at all times, in all
places, and in all circumstances, in small things as well as in great."
With this introduction the missioner proceeded to dwell upon the~
danger of offending God. "In that never-to-be-forgotten Cwmavon
meeting," he remarked, "some of us saw what it meant to displease God."
Christ had died for a whole world. He was entitled to receive a whole
world in return. Was He to receive it? The sacrifice on the Cross called
for sacrifice on the part of all Christ's followers. Then had been no
successful gathering yet which had not cost something to somebody.
Heaven had cost much. Those who would serve Christ must serve Him
at the cost of sacrifice. They must in the first place give Him their hearts.
With dramatic suddenness the missioner now cut off his address with the
remark, "I can proceed no further. There is someone here ready to
speak." And after a second's pause a lady in the nave speaking in low,
tremulous tones, recited portions of Scripture. Meanwhile Mr. Evan
Roberts, glancing rapidly and excitedly around the congregation, cried
out, "Come, oh! come at once; don't delay." And those near him
observed with some alarm that he compressed his lips, as in a violent
effort to suppress his emotions, that the veins in his temples and his neck
became prominent, standing out like whipcord, and that he bent in the
attitude of a man in a paroxysm of pain. He resumed his seat, and
presently recovered his composure.
There was no call made for "confessions" or "testimonies," and yet for the
next five minutes confessions came from all parts of the building, and this
phase of the proceedings was appropriately closed by Miss Mary Roberts
reading the 4th chapter of the first Epistle General of John. Then, as if
moved by a common impulse, the congregation rang out in a thrilling
rendering of a rousing Welsh hymn, and we felt that at last the
congregation had been thawed, and was under the indefinable spell of
the revival. Hitherto every word uttered in public had been in Welsh, but
someone sang a strain of the revival melody "Come to Jesus," and
English people present, recognizing their own language, summoned
courage to participate in the proceedings. From this point to the end
English prayers, and English hymns were frequently heard.
Still the missioner was not satisfied. Another hour had passed when he
spoke again, and again it was a complaint that he uttered. Either the
Holy Spirit worked differently in the North, or there was disobedience in
the meeting, so we heard declared; but, continued the missioner, the Holy
Spirit was the same North and South. The Spirit was at His best at that
meeting, but hundreds within the building were in deed, if not in words,
saying Him nay. The result of this disobedience was, that he (the
speaker) was not permitted even to give out a hymn, much less to test the
meeting.
Later there was a visible improvement, for the revival feeling rose to a
great height, though in no way approaching anything witnessed in
Glamorgan. At ten o'clock the meeting was tested by the Rev, John
Williams, and a dozen converts were enrolled. The revivalist's closing
words were a solemn warning to unbelievers.
It must he recorded that at this inaugural meeting the revivalist fell far
short of doing justice to the reputation that had preceded him, and
possibly many left the building disappointed. It is yet too soon, however,
to form any conclusions. Mr. Evan Roberts is evidently feeling his way,
and those who know him best are confident that in a few days the
extraordinary outburst of religious fervour which marked his visits to the
towns of Wales will be witnessed also in this great seaport on the Mersey.
As we left the crowded building, we had outside to fight our way into the
streets. Through a great throng inside the chapel railings, who all
through the evening had been holding a revival service of their own in
the open air. In this service dozens of Welsh policemen of Liverpool,
drafted thereto by the chief constable, took conspicuous part.
Sketch II
At Anfield. - A Chant of Praise. - Features of the Mission.
LIVERPOOL, Thursday, March 30, 1905.
Disappointing as was last night's meeting at Princes Road Chapel to those
familiar with revival scenes in South Wales, the Liverpool people express
themselves delighted with it. They regard it as an unqualified success.
"Mr. Evan Roberts made an excellent first impression" is the phrase we
hear on all sides, and this view is amply confirmed by the Liverpool and
Manchester morning papers, all of which find in the Princes Road
gathering ample justification of the renown which the revivalist has won.
"We did not anticipate," said a leading local minister to me today,
"witnessing in Liverpool anything like the stirring scenes you have had
down South. I question whether our people here are capable of any
extraordinary ebullition of feeling, and we do not desire it; but there
prevailed at last night's meeting a deep and intense feeling which was
unmistakable, and the revival, we feel confident, is taking a firm hold of
the city."
In a conversation with the Rev. John Williams, of Princes Road, today, I
was told something of the manner in which the city had been prepared
for the coming of the mission. A house-to-house canvass of so vast a
community as Liverpool is surely a task that would not be lightly
undertaken by any body or association, no matter how highly organised,
but the Welsh Free Churches of Liverpool, having conceived the idea, did
not rest until it was carried into execution. The work was divided
between the churches, and for many days one thousand canvassers were
daily at work. Not a house was left unvisited, either in Liverpool or the
suburbs, including Birkenhead and Garston, and at each the inquiry was
made, "Are there any Welsh people here who do not frequent places of
worship?" In the result, as previously stated, 4,000 such prodigals were
discovered.
While this work was in progress, the canvassers met every Sunday night
for prayer, and at one of these meetings someone conceived the happy
idea of organizing during the mission special gatherings for this class of
non-church goers. I hear today that three such meetings have been
arranged in three different parts of the city, and they will be held next
week. These meetings, every one of which Mr. Evan Roberts is anxious to
address, are expected to be the feature of next week's programme.
Mr. Evan Roberts, I ascertained this morning, is in the best of health and
spirits, and is deeply grateful to the Liverpool committee for the very
excellent arrangements made for his comfort. The address of the house
(No. 1 Duc's Street, Princes Park, the residence of Mrs. Edwards) in which
he resides during his stay in the city is kept a profound secret, and he is
thus enabled to enjoy rest and freedom, and to escape the unweleome
attentions of the army of inquisitive callers who had been dogging his
footsteps in other places. I very much fear, however, that the secret will
soon become public property, for as I passed the house this morning I
observed a crowd of the curious ones in the immediate vicinity watching
the carriage which had just arrived to take the revivalist out for his
morning drive.
Tonight's meeting is held in the northern end of the city, the chapel
selected for the missioner's visit being that of Anfield Road, opposite
Stanley Park. Simultaneously three similar gatherings, all crowded, were
held in other chapels in the vicinity. Commodious as is the chapel at
Anfield Road, for it will comfortably accommodate 1,200 people, it
proved hopelessly inadequate to house the enormous crowd that
besieged all the entrances at 6 o'clock. Three minutes later every inch of
room within was occupied. Then the doors were finally closed, and the
pastor (the Rev. Owen Owens) conveyed to those within, a message from
the chief constable of Liverpool that no one was to leave the building
until the close of the proceedings. This precaution, it was explained, was
necessary so as to avoid crushing and panic.
It was an inspiring audience, typically Welsh, with a slight sprinkling
perhaps of other nationalities. The spirit, of idle curiosity so painfully
evident at Princes Road was tonight markedly absent; and ten minutes
after the congregation was admitted I could detect nothing to distinguish
the meeting from the finest revival gathering seen even in the Rhondda
and the Garw. The Rev. Dr. Abel T. Parry, D.D., of Rhyl, an ex-president
of the Welsh Baptist Union, had scarcely finished reading the
introductory chapter ere a lady under the gallery was heard in earnest
supplication. She was immediately followed by two young men, one a
mere boy, and both prayed with irresistible power. Their theme was one
of praise that in this revival the young men of Liverpool had been deeply
immersed in the baptism of the Spirit. This elicited loud and fervent
"Amens" from all parts of the building, and presently the "gorfoledd"
found adequate vent in hymn after hymn. During the brief intervals
between the stanzas we heard the music being repeated by a choir of
apparently many thousand voices clustered in the streets on three sides of
the building.
Let us glance around. While the congregation is yet singing, fully half a
dozen persons in as many pews up and down the building are engaged in
prayer, and as the music ceases we hear their voices, pitched in a quaint
and musical monotone, betraying their North Wales origin. All of them
are apparently blissfully unconscious of their surroundings. Like Jacob,
one is wrestling for the blessing;, another, striking an altruistic note,
pleads for the baptism of the Spirit upon all and sundry, but especially
upon Evan Roberts, "Thine honoured servant.".
No one is in charge. The conduct of the meeting is entirely in the hands
of the congregation. The spontaneity of the proceedings is delightful.
Prayers and hymns follow absolutely without interval, and, as in South
Wales, we occasionally have a dozen people simultaneously on their feet.
Last night Mr. Evan Roberts - he has I see, just arrived, he is now in the
pulpit, though his arrival has created no commotion - the revivalist, was
taken aback by the lack of warmth at the Princes Road service, and asked
whether the Spirit worked differently in the North from the way He
worked in the South. Surely such a query would tonight be quite out of
place. The ladies are now very much in evidence, and striking and
beautiful are some of the prayers they offer. "The Pentecost that was lost
through unbelief must come again," exclaims one, while the next pleads
that the Lord should make them "all Marys, all prostrate at the feet of
Jesus."
Shortly all eyes are fixed on the pulpit. Miss Annie Davies is singing the
revival love song,
"Dyma gariad fel y moroedd,
Tosturiaethau fel y lli'!
T'wysog 'bywyd pur yn marw,
Marw i brynu'n bywyd ni!
Pwy all beidio coflo am dano?
Pwy all beidio traethu'i glod?
Dyma gariad nad a'n anghof -
Tra bo'r nefoedd wen yn bod!
In a second or two she is complete mistress of the congregation. All seen
enraptured by the vocalist, who, despite her glorious voice, evidently
thinks more of her theme than of her art. She sings as one inspired. The
line "Dyma gariad nad a'n anghof" ("Love that cannot be forgotten") is
rung out again and again at the top of her voice with telling effect, and,
presently, in contemplation of His love thus extolled, hundreds are
silently weeping. A Wesleyan Methodist minister from Paris offers
prayer in English for France; Gipsy Smith's brother-in-law, Mr. Evens,
offers another for the salvation of the world, and other Englishmen and
Englishwomen follow their example.
Why this silence of the missioner? It is nine o'clock; two hours have
elapsed since he took his seat in the pulpit, but he has not yet uttered a
word, nor has his face been once lit with a smile. Half an hour ago he
bent his head and hid his face in his hands; now, as the congregation are
absorbed in a rousing rendering of the Welsh Christian war march,
"Marchog lesu yn Ilwyddianus," 'he seems to be rousing himself from a
reverie and to be taking an intelligent interest in what passes around.
A young fellow in the gallery has been praying for a downpour of the
Spirit. It was this that brought Mr. Evan Roberts at last to his feet. "No,"
he exclaimed, "don't ask the Spirit for the downpour, for we shall not get
it. The Spirit will not come in all His fullness until a place is prepared for
Him." Hence, he continued, the need for whole-hearted dedication of self
- body and soul - to the service of God. Some prayed for a revival, and
yet closed the doors of their own hearts against it; others were ready to
do great things for God, but refused to do the lesser things for Him. They
must learn to do the lesser things before they would be permitted to do
the greater things. Was that meeting a success? Yes, perfectly; but Jesus
had not been given all the glory that it had been possible to give Him, nor
yet as much glory as He desired to have. They must not rob God of His
glory. They must make up their minds to give all for God or all for the
Devil. Each one of them must attract people to Jesus or repel people from
Jesus. Which was it to be? In many Christian hearts Jesus reigned, while
the will, the affection, the intellect, had not all been subjected to Him.
There was need to rub the rust off many a follower of Christ. God needed
workers, not men. Jesus was the greatest worker the world had ever
seen, and he who would be like the Master must be ready to be bent, and
to be humiliated, even as the Master was.
For fully five minutes after the revivalist had suddenly ceased speaking,
there is a silence that can be felt. Evan Roberts, bending over the pulpit
desk, glances up and down the silent, solemn congregation with face now
smiling, now sad, his solitary remark being,
"I have stopped, because I feel that now in this chapel scores are
weighing themselves in the balance." Eventually the painful silence is
broken by a touching prayer from the gallery for Universal peace,
universal salvation." "Thou hast saved the Welsh, O Lord," ran one of
the phrases, "save also the English, and the Scotch, and the Irish," and the
congregation after a loud "Amen" breaks forth into a fervent and ecstatic
rendering of "Diolch Iddo."
A little later the delicate task of testing the audience is conducted by the
Rev. Owen Owens. On this occasion church members are asked not only
to stand up, but to raise the right arm, and at once we see a whole forest
of arms uplifted. "Up with them," cries the missioner, "up even unto
Heaven if necessary; remember the arms that were once extended on the
Cross." Are there any arms down? Only a few. Two, three, four
converts are announced in rapid succession, and after each
announcement the revivalist, who is now as eager and boyish in manner
as he was wont to be at the beginning of this historic movement, leads the
audience in a great chant of praise.
"Here is one who doesn't want to give in," The voice comes somewhere
from the far end. "He won't? " asks the revivalist, "Let him beware lest
the cry soon be that he shall not." Another man was said to decline
because "he knew too many of the tricks of some who were church
members." "It will be every man for himself in the great day to come,"
was the revivalist's response, "Do you find any fault with God?"
It was close upon 11 o'clock when the meeting terminated, and a similar
gathering held in the adjoining hall was simultaneously brought to a
close. These Anfield meetings, if I mistake not, mark the beginning in
Liverpool of a movement destined to prove as marvellous as that
witnessed even in South Wales.
Sketch III
The Duty of Forgiveness. - Sensational Scene at Birkenhead.
BIRKENHEAD, Friday, March 31, 1905.
Throughout all the great centres of population skirting the banks of the
Mersey, Evan Roberts, the Welsh revivalist, is undeniably the hero of the
hour. His name is on every lip, his pictures are exhibited in hundreds of
shop windows, and repeatedly today have I heard the regret expressed
that the mission is not conducted in the universal language of the Saxon,
and held in the Torrey-Alexander pavilion, which is still up, and in which
14,000 people could be accommodated. Evan Roberts has, however, come
to Liverpool to conduct a mission to the Welsh people in the language
they know best, and, as to the second point, the Welsh revivalist has not
yet, except in one solitary instance at Bridgend, conducted a service since
the beginning of the revival in any building not habitually used as a place
of public worship. The Liverpool Committee, in arranging a series of
suburban gatherings in preference to any central demonstration, are not
only carrying out the wishes of the revivalist himself, but are keeping the
movement in Liverpool and district strictly on the lines that have led to
success in the towns and valleys of Wales.
The scene of operations today was changed from Liverpool to
Birkenhead, and we are assembled this evening in the spacious chapel of
the English Primitive Methodists in Grange Road. It is yet but six o'clock.
The revivalist is not due for another hour, but the building was packed,
and all the doors closed half an hour ago. Since then thousands have
been turned away. Two other chapels in the vicinity, we are informed,
are also crowded out. They are the English Baptist Chapel, Grange Road,
and the Welsh Wesleyan Chapel, Claughton Road. In which of these
three chapels will the revivalist appear? Anyone knowing the secret, and
willing to part with it for a consideration, could have added considerably
to his wealth during the last few hours. But the committee have kept
their secret well, and there are not many, even in this congregation, who
know that this is the chapel which the missioner will favour.
Looking around I recognise in the solitary occupant of the pulpit pew the
form and features of the Rev. Thomas Gray, of Birkenhead, who must
now be numbered among the veterans of the Welsh Calvinistic Methodist
ministry. He is "in charge" pending the missioner's arrival, but the
congregation is already aflame with the spirit of the revival, and any
attempt at leading would be out of place. An eloquent prayer for "the
lessening of immorality and ungodliness in the town" is offered by the
Rev. William Watson, the well-known Presbyterian minister of
Claughton, but this is the only English we hear during the first hour,
though there must be a large number of Englishmen present. The next
prayer is in Welsh, and he who offers it, a middle-aged man of the artisan
class, is evidently a recent convert. In the fluent, vigorous phrases that
fall from him, we glean a bit of his personal history. For 20 years he had
been a pronounced infidel, but two months ago the light came, darkness
and doubt were for ever-dispelled and faith and conviction had been
enthroned. It is a great prayer of thanksgiving, and the congregation is
deeply stirred. The joy of the last two months is poetically depicted, but
we are told that the only true happiness is that derived from bringing
other souls within reach of the mercy of God. We must all be fishers of
men and winners of souls. The same altruistic note is struck in many
other prayers.
The Mission of the Welsh, it has often been written, is to counteract
materialism, and to deepen the spirituality of the human race. If this be
so, then the revival helps the nation to fulfil its destiny. A writer in a
Liverpool daily today claims to have found the secret of the revival. It is,
he asserts, the power of the Welsh people to sing. Had he made the
remark after hearing this Birkenhead congregation tonight, one might be
tempted to pardon him. In all my experience of the revival I have
certainly heard no more inspiring singing than this. Perhaps the
explanation lies in the fact that there is here a large number of visitors
from Festiniog and other North Wales centres, though I am reminded, by
the way, that the Welsh vocalists of Birkenhead have on more than one
occasion asserted their superiority in the chief choral and the ladies'
choral competitions of the National Eisteddfod. In the prayers, as in the
hymns, there is in every word an unmistakable heart-throb, and
occasionally the building re-echoes to the sound of loudIy-proclaimed
"Amenau."
It was a few minutes past seven when the missioner arrived. He at once
took his seat, with the Rev. John Williams, in the pulpit. Miss Annie
Davies was accommodated with a seat in the front. For some reason the
missioner's sister is tonight absent. The arrival of the missioner causes
an unusual flutter of excitement, and his features are closely scanned, and
his every movement eagerly followed by an excited throng - but only
for a moment. A fervent prayer is heard in the galleries 'that we may
look to Thee, oh Lord, and not to Thy servant," and thus recalled to the
spiritual aspect of the gathering, the congregation abandons itself once
more to an ecstasy of praise. In a subdued voice Miss Annie Davies gives
an exquisite rendering of Sankey's 'I hear Thy tender voice," and a
solemn hush falls upon the assembly as it drinks in every warbling note
that trills from the throat of the youthful singer.
In the audience are scores of young men and women from Rhos, aflame
with the fire of the revival, kindled there simultaneously with the
outbreak at Loughor. They are easily distinguishable by the fervency of
their prayers, and presently four or five of them are heard addressing the
Throne of Grace in voices pitched in a high, tremulous key, pulsating
with emotion.
We begin to feel that this is going to be an unusual service, for the
atmosphere is surcharged with that indefinable something so frequently
experienced, at Evan Roberts's meetings. Call it hypnotism, magnetism,
or what you will, or apply to it the revivalist's own description, "the
Operation of the Holy Spirit," the effect is unmistakably manifest. Hearts
beat quick and faces grow pale. There is a catch in the throat, and a deep
consciousness that something is about to happen. A silence supervenes
that is positively painful - the tension is at breaking point.
Half a dozen voices start a hymn, the congregation makes an effort to
follow, and anon the, revivalist, rising suddenly from his seat, excitedly
seizes the pulpit Bible and quickly turns o'er its leaves, as if in search of a
text that is eluding him. Then, surveying the congregation, with face
twitching as if with pain, and eyes full of pathos and sorrow, he sternly
demands "silence, stop!"
The congregation is startled, and looks up. The hymn is abruptly stopped
in the middle of a line. "Stop," repeats the missioner. "Stop, we must
first clear this place before we can sing. A moment ago a friend over
there beseeched God to come nearer, but He will not come nearer until
some things here are cleared out of the way."
What is amiss? Each man looks with wonder at his neighbour, and we
seem to read in the astonished faces that are turned towards the pulpit
the startling question, "And is this man in the confidence of the
Almighty?" Presently, the missioner proceeds to explain. "There are
some here tonight who cannot pray the Lord's prayer, 'forgive us our
trespasses as we forgive those that trespass against us.' Why? Because
they will not forgive those that have trespassed against them, and they
are here tonight, and are obstacles in the way. Think not this is
imagination, say not this is a flight of fancy; it is KNOWLEDGE. They are
here, as certain as I am here, as certain as God is here," and, proceeding,
he urges those thus alluded to, to forgive at once.
The scene that follows baffles description. Frantic prayers are heard from
many parts of' the building. List to some of the phrases, "Bend them, oh
Lord." "Forgive us and strengthen us to forgive." "Pardon our
hypocrisy." "Bend the entire congregation." A little boy of eleven, who
is in the gallery behind the pulpit, offers a prayer that is beautiful and
touching. "Let love prevail like the ocean," he cries, "to enable us all to
forgive and forget trespasses, and to think only of the infinite love of God.
"
Again the congregation, with more than half of its members in tears,
starts a hymn, and again, the missioner imperatively intervenes. "These
people decline to forgive, and some of them are important personages,
too. Let them beware lest the Spirit compels them to stand up and
publicly denounce their own iniquity, nor must they be surprised if their
names are given me. God is revealing Himself in wonderful ways these
days."
This, we know from experience, is no idle threat; and we recall memories
of that extraordinary meeting at Blaenanerch, when the missioner who
now speaks actually pronounced a name under circumstances similar to
these.
Again we hear a multitude of prayers. One of the number is by a young
man, who is described to me as a leading official of the Free Church of the
Welsh (Eglwys Rydd y Cymry), the section that recently seceded from the
Calvinistic Methodist body in Liverpool. I look up and recognise him.
He took a prominent part in the painful historic controversy that
preceded that secession. We seem to be getting a glimmer of light on
what is happening. Are hostile leaders in this meeting, with hearts still
filled with bitterness and rancour? "Unite us, O Lord, unite us" is the
young man's piercing cry, and again he repeats it, and again and again he
is followed by loud "Amens." Sounds of sobbing fall on the ear from all
sides. He who prays proceeds: - "We are in a hopeless tangle. Lord,
reduce us to some semblance of order. We are in mortal fear of quitting
this meeting until we are assured we are all brethren and sisters in Christ.
Bend us all until every church in the district is ready to co-operate for the
furtherance of Thy Kingdom." Is this a reference to the recent decision of
the Welsh Free Church Council of Liverpool not to admit the Free Church
of the Welsh into its ranks? Other rhapsodies in the same prayer are
equally pointed.
After this it seemed the most natural thing in the world to hear prayer
after prayer in which were heard the declarations, "I thank Thee, Lord,
Thou hast given me the strength. I forgive all now. I beseech Thee to
grant me Thy forgiveness." "No," declared the missioner, a little later, "It
is not clear here yet. There are still some here who refuse to forgive.
They are stubbornly resisting the promptings of the Holy Spirit. They
must not expect any sleep tonight. God in His own good time will deal
terribly with each of them. May He have mercy upon them."
The Rev. John Williams, speaking slowly and solemnly, asked the
congregation to unite with him in the Lord's Prayer, and at once 1,800
people bent in supplication, and with faces lifted, offered in Welsh the
Lord's Prayer, repeating with significant emphasis the passage referring
to forgiveness. When the Welsh version is finished Miss Annie Davies
leads the assembly in an equally fervent repetition of the same prayer in
English. Then the revivalist, with face beaming with joy, exclaims, "At
last, the Spirit is permitting us to sing. Let us then sing,
"Ymgrymed pawb i lawr
I enw'r addfwyn Oen!
Yr Enw mwyaf mawr
Erioed a glywyd son:
Y clod, y mawl, y parch, a'r bri
Fo byth i enw',n Harglwydd ni!"
In the rendering of this noble hymn, the missioner himself leads the
congregation, and then the incident is closed by Miss Annie Davies with
an exquisite rendering of "Dyma Feibl Anwyl lesu" wedded to the music
of "The Last Rose of Summer."
"Will those who would like to love Jesus, put their hands up?" The
question is put by the Rev. John Williams, and there is prompt response.
Every arm in the building is uplifted. The revivalist claps his hands with
very joy.
Soon afterwards many converts were enrolled, among the names called
out being that of Mr. - - who, it was explained by the Rev. Thomas
Gray, "is a brother of the Rev. - - a well-known South Wales minister."
"Oh," retorts the missioner, "he has found a better brother in Jesus tonight.
"
It was a long way past ten ere this remarkable service ended. While it
proceeded members of the Y.M.C.A. of Birkenhead conducted an equally
remarkable open-air service outside the chapel, where many thousands
were gathered.
Old Feuds Healed. Saturday.
At the Birkenhead meeting last night the hindrance mentioned by the
revivalist was the presence in the congregation of people who refused to
forgive their enemies. Today I have received full details (including
names, addresses, etc.) of an incident which in this connection will be
read with interest. There were present at the meeting a brother and a
sister, both advanced in years, who for 20 years had not spoken to each
other. Every effort at reconciliation had failed. During the stress of those
never-to-be-forgotten moments, when the revivalist depicted the
sinfulness of hatred and the duty of forgiveness, both agreed to forgive
and forget, and to seek reconciliation. Outside the chapel the two
accidentally met, mutually embraced, craved each other's pardon, and
then walked home together linked arm-in-arm.
Sketch IV
Five Envious Persons. - A Dramatic Accusation. - Service for Non-
Adherents.
LIVERPOOL, Saturday Night, April 1 1905
A special meeting exclusively for non-adherents is surely a novel feature
even in a revival which, from its beginning, has been run on unusual
lines. The idea of organising such a gathering was conceived in
Liverpool, and tonight we witness in Liverpool the first attempt to carry
the idea into practice. On paper the arrangements were perfect.
Hundreds of pink tickets were distributed exclusively, so we were
officially assured, to non-adherents, while canvassers who were
responsible for bringing these "esgeuluswyr" once more within hearing
of the evangel, were supplied with white tickets, securing their own
admittance only on condition that they brought one or more nonadherents
with them. This is the first of three similar ticket meetings to
be held during Mr. Roberts's visit to the city.
Very often, alas, the best laid schemes "gang agley," and tonight's effort,
from all appearance, has not been the success it was hoped for. What
than is lacking? Certainly not enthusiasm. The crowd is greater than
ever. Shaw Street Chapel, in which we are now assembled, is the chapel
of the Welsh Wesleyans, where the late Egiwysbach ministered for some
years, and is possibly one of the most commodious places of worship to
be found in the north end of the city. Now at 6.50, 20 minutes after the
doors were thrown open, it is packed from floor to ceiling.
Looking at the congregation from the pulpit end, what do we see?
Ministers and preachers of all denominations clustered in and about the
pulpit pew; deacons and leading church workers, whom we recognise as
having met at previous gatherings - they are all here with zeal and
vigour undiminished. Scan the pews closely and critically, and note how
they are crowded with well-dressed men and women - typical chapel
goers, every one of them. And if you are in any doubt on that point listen
to the singing! In what church or chapel in all Wales can you hear 'a
heartier, a fuller-throated, a more soulful and "hwyliog" rendering than
this of the music of the sanctuaries of Cymru? There is not a single hymn
book in view on balcony or floor. Close your eyes, and as you hear hymn
and prayer and testimony and confession, you can emphatically declare
that this is a Welsh valley where revivalism is at fever heat. This a
congregation of non-adherents? Have the Mission Committee been
befooled on this first day of April?
When on the point of putting this very question to one of the officials, my
ear caught a few phrases of protest from the Rev. W. 0. Evans (Wesleyan),
Bootle. He is in the set fawr, and facing the audience makes a pointed
appeal - "Outside there are hundreds of non-adherents with tickets, but
they cannot come in. Will those in the audience who are Christian
members quit the building and make room for some of them? "What a
fine opportunity this for the exercise of a little Christian self-denial. But
no; so far as I can see there is scarcely any movement. The appeals fall on
deaf ears, and the next minute we are caught in the mighty sweep of
another Welsh hymn. Turning to the Rev. W. O. Evans I ask, "Are there
any non-adherents here?" and the sorrowful reply is, "There are
hundreds of church members:" "Nay," said a voice behind him, "there
are hundreds of esgeuluswyr, too. We have been bringing them in by the
score all the afternoon, in cabs, in wagonettes, and by trams. Many of us
have been for hours after non-adherents, just as on election days we run
after the voters."
All this of course may be, but what business have these church members
at all in this meeting, arranged for those who are outside the pale of the
Christian churches? How obtained they the tickets? Have non-adherents
been trafficking with the passports supplied them? Outside, as I write,
many hundreds have assembled who have come by a late afternoon train
from Wrexham, Rhos, and other districts in North Wales in their
eagerness to attend one of the Liverpool meetings; but, alas! they are
turned away disappointed.
From six to seven, the meeting is more or less in charge of the pastor of
Shaw Street. the Rev. Robert Lewis, and others in and around the
platform include the Revs. Griffith Ellis, M.A., Bootle (C.M.); W. O. Evans,
Bootle (Wesleyan); Thomas Hughes (Wesleyan); Owen Owens, Anfield
(C.M.); John Hughes, M.A., Fitzclarence Street (C.M.); J. D. Evans. B.A.
(C.M.); David Powell (B.); John Hughes, BA., B.D. Princes Road (C.M.);
Hawen Rees (C); O. L. Roberts ('C.), Tabernacle; D. C. Edwards, M.A.
(C.M.), Llanbedr; Hugh Roberts (C.M.); E. J. Evans (C.M.), Walton;
Thomas Charles Williams, M.A. (C.M.), Menai Bridge.
It is 7. 15. Here comes the missioner. What's this change? Swiftly
mounting the pulpit he stands facing the vast congregation with delight
in every feature. Is this he who last night at that memorable Birkenhead
meeting threatened a terrified congregation with Divine wrath? The
pain, the sorrow, the anguish, the pity, and the anger then reflected in his
countenance are apparently gone - all gone. The Evan Roberts whom
we now see is the smiling, jovial, light-hearted, merry evangelist who in
the early days of the revival spread the gospel of hope and joy through
the mining valleys of South Wales. What has happened?
There is tonight, no suggestion of that mood of reticence and reserve,
which have hitherto marked his appearance in Liverpool. Bending over
the pulpit desk he beams with delight upon the congregation. His face
wreathed in captivating smiles. Some one starts a hymn as he is about to
speak, and someone else cries "Hush." "Nay. nay," replies the
evangelist, "you sing on, sing on," and thus encouraged, we have hymn
after hymn, and prayer after prayer, now in English, now in Welsh and as
often as not half a dozen engaged in public prayer together. Suddenly
Annie Davies's voice rings through the building, and there is instant
silence. In the middle of her solo she is overcome with emotion: the solo
is turned into a sobbing prayer, Turning to the audience, we observe
hundreds in silent tears who a moment ago were jubilant singers. But it
is only a gentle summer shower, and anon the clouds pass away, and all
is sunny again.
A few minutes later the missioner is on his feet with a new-found text. It
was evidently suggested to him by the prayer of the Rev. W. O. Evans,
who in his supplications had asked that their ears be attuned to hear the
voice of Jesus. "This is His voice," declares Evan Roberts, "Come unto
Me all ye that are weary and are heavy laden and I will give you rest" -
On this favourite verse, the young preacher founded a bright, winsome
address, in which it was shown how the needs of the 'fallen race were
more than met by the love of Christ. He alone could relieve us of
burdens. "Come," and the missioner beckons again and again, as if
addressing individuals in the audience. "Come! Come!" What
tenderness, what pathos, what loving-kindness, he throws into this one
word, "Come!" "You have fallen to 'the depths, some of you," he
continues, "but Jesus has not yet given you up. His word is still 'Come.'
When to come? Jesus has no special hour of call. Come early, come every
hour, every minute, every second. You feel too weak? He will give you
strength. Naked? He will clothe you. Steeped in sin? He will cleanse
and purify you and attire you in a royal robe, a robe that shall cover not
filth and iniquity, but purity, and a purity that will whiten the robe."
A Prediction and its Fulfilment.
The speaker is silent. For a moment he surveys the congregation with
love-lit eyes, and then remarks, in a low, soft, musical voice: "When I
came in, this place was full of angels. There is a fierce battle now going
on here. Who is going to win? Jesus Christ." Again he pauses, again we
have silence, and hundreds are in an expectant attitude as if listening for
the flutter of angel wings. "Think not," is the next remark, "that this
great effort of yours in Liverpool is going to fail. No, there is too much
love in it for failure."
A little later he again embarks upon a prophecy. "Are there some who
are to come to Him tonight? Yes. How do I know? Because I have
asked that it shall be so, and because I have the assurance that it shall be
so. Jesus is waiting to relieve your burdens, and scores of you here are
going to yield yourselves up to Him tonight and when the burden is
removed you can then sing in the day and sing in the night (canu'r dydd
a chanu'r nos). There will be then no night, for you will be with Him,
Who is the Light."
Just at this moment, as we marvel at the prophecy, and wonder whether
we shall witness its fulfilment, Miss Annie Davies's voice is heard softly
rendering Sankey's hymn in Welsh, "Os caf lesu, dim ond lesu" ("If I
have Jesus, Jesus only ").
"This is the beginning of glorious times in Liverpool." The speaker is the
Rev. John Williams, of Princes Road, who now stands at the pulpit desk.
With tact and delicacy he proceeds to test the meeting. "All who want to
love Jesus, will they raise their hands?
A second invitation is not needed, every hand is up. "Da lawn." remarks
the reverend gentleman; "but if you really desire to love Him, your place
is inside, not outside the churches."
When those who were already members of churches were asked to stand,
about two-thirds of the congregation sprang to their feet. Ah! I thought
so. Non-adherents are in a hopeless minority. In less than a second the
set fawr is emptied. Ministers and officials who had sat there are now
rapidly threading their way in and out of the crowded congregation in all
parts of the building in search of stricken ones.
The net having been thrown out is drawn in. We now see the prediction
fulfilled. Dozens of repentant sinners are discovered, some prostrate with
grief, others engaged in prayers, and still others too overcome to speak.
Names of converts are called out in apparently endless succession. I keep
record up to 30 and even 40 and then the names come in too rapidly and
in batches, and I am unable to follow. This must rank amongst the most
successful meetings that even this unrivalled revivalist has ever held.
Surely he must be overjoyed. Where is he?
While the congregation are, for the sixtieth time, singing Diolch Iddo,
Byth am goflo llwch y llawr," I try to discover the missioner, who for ten
minutes past has been silent. Ah, there he is at the far end of the pulpit,
his 'face buried in his hands as if weeping. Why this mood, when all is so
bright? We see signs of a coming storm.
Returning to the pulpit, the Rev. John Williams announces "There are
scores here engaged in a bitter struggle. Let us pray for them," and at the
word the Rev. Owen Owens leads the congregation to the throne of grace,
and he is followed by dozens of others in English and Welsh. Meanwhile
a lady in the congregation, with a rich contralto voice, gives a perfervid
rendering of the sacred solo, "There is life for a look," and presently a
thousand voices join exultantly in the refrain.
But we are suddenly pulled up by the missioner. With both arms raised
he sternly demands silence. He is in tears, and his brow is clouded.
What's wrong? "Don't sing." He speaks with a voice that is choked.
"Don't sing. Oh, the tragedy of it. When salvation has been secured by
so many, the Spirit has suddenly departed, and some of you know the
reason." Why? The congregation looks bewildered, failing to detect the
slightest reason for the interruption, and possibly many resent it. A
minister, more courageous than his brethren, calls out, "Here is another
soul crying for rescue. Let us rejoice." "No," replied the missioner, with
increased severity, "Don't sing, Diolch (thanks); there's no Diolch due to
some who are here, though there is praise due to Heaven for all that."
Then with scorn-flashing eyes, clenched fists, and in a heightened voice
he exclaims, "Some of you are jealous, envious (eiddigeddus) because of
the rescue work that has been accomplished, and you who are guilty
must at once ask God to forgive you - yea, to bend you. This, oh this, is
awful. Men jealous because Christ is being glorified! "
A thrill of something akin to horror passed over all present at this
extraordinary pronouncement. In the pulpit, on the gallery, on the
ground floor, everywhere around us, men and women cry out in prayer.
The air is full of the sounds of moaning. The missioner, as he bends with
closed eyes over the pulpit desk groans as if in physical pain. The
moaning gives way to loud, and bitter lamentations. Women shriek, and
many are on the point of fainting. The situation is excruciatingly painful,
almost intolerable. Well-known ministers exchange despairing glances.
"Plyga nhw, O! Dduw" (" Bend them, O Lord") cries the missioner, and
the prayer is repeated by hundreds of others, who are kneeling.
Clear as a bell rises the resonant voice of Mr. William Evans, of Newshani
Drive, one of the deacons of Anfield, and an ex-member of the Liverpool
City Council. "Forbid it, Lord " - this is his supplication - "that there
should be any elder brothers among us tonight." "But there are," swiftly
rejoins the missioner, "and these persons have not yet asked for
forgiveness. They are the obstacles. In the Name of the Lord I ask them
to go out or bend. Let us as one great army again beseech the Lord to
bend them."
And once again the building resounds to the earnest, almost hysterical,
pleadings of hundreds. Presently, the terror increases, when the
missioner, having presumably received a still further revelation, commits
himself to a still more definite statement - "There are five persons here
who are obstacles. Will you five go out or seek forgiveness? We shall not
be allowed to sing or to test the meeting, nor shall we see any mere saved
here until something happens. If this proceeds much longer, perhaps the
names of the five shall be revealed to me."
Wild and Delirious Scenes.
What is to be done? The scenes now witnessed are wild and delirious.
Tension is at breaking point. A happy thought occurs to the Rev. W. O.
Evans, a Wesleyan minister. Perhaps, the five are Englishmen who do not
understand that they are rocks of offence, and, presumably, with a view
to enlighten them, the minister breaks forth into an English prayer for a
relief of the crisis that has arisen. But the missioner forbids him to
proceed.
"They are not English friends," he cries, "they are Welsh, all five of
them." "Save them, Lord," a woman prays. "No, no," excitedly
interrupts the revivalist, "don't pray; God is not listening; Heaven is
locked against us, as it were. Three of the five are preachers of the
Gospel. There is a terrible ordeal in store for the five."
It needs a more graphic pen than mine to depict the sensation produced
by this declaration. "Five men, three of them preachers." This is the
statement, and inferentially it is a statement made under Divine
inspiration. It is received with loud and general exclamation of "Oh, dear
oh, dear!" in tones of mingled pain and astonishment.
The uppermost feeling seems to be one of utter despair, and I experience
an uneasy feeling that unless this acute tension is speedily relieved there
may be a panic. The Rev. John Williams, standing in the pulpit behind
the missioner, who is bent as if in a trance over the desk, appears to share
this disquietude, for, placing one hand firmly on the missioner's
shoulder, he with the other beckons silently to the congregation to depart.
A few take the hint, and frantically endeavour to push their way out. The
great mass remains, anticipating developments. Then Mr. Williams,
resolved to take no more risks, quietly makes a few simple
announcements, and without consulting the missioner pronounces the
benediction and declares the meeting over.
Just at this moment Mr. Evan Roberts stands upright, and realising what
is happening, turns an affrighted glance to the minister and assumes an
attitude of protest. Then appealing to the congregation he cries: "No,
don't go out. Pray! Pray! Pray! We cannot leave until Christ is glorified.
This meeting is not a failure. It is a success. There will be no envy after
tonight. God is awful in Zion. Woe be unto those who are obstacles;
woe be unto those who are obstacles."
A section of the congregation makes another attempt to sing, and the
hymn "Dyma Gariad fel y moroedd" is started, but the revivalist
peremptorily calls upon them to stop. "No, there is to be no singing just
yet. We may have singing presently. It is beginning to lighten. You can
pray as much as you like, but the only subject of prayer now must be
these five. No praise, and no prayers for salvation."
Five minutes later, after innumerable prayers have been offered, singly
and in chorus, Evan Roberts, with face streaming with tears, declares that
"All who are here must before they retire to rest tonight interceed to God
on behalf of the five. Now we shall sing, and let us sing.
"Duw mawr y rhyfeddodau maith!
Rhyfeddol yw pob rhan o'th waith."
Great God of wonders! all Thy ways are matchless, Godlike and divine!
But the fair glorys of Thy grace more Godlike and unrivalled shine.
Who is a pardoning God like Thee?
Or who has grace so rich and free ? - President Davies.
There is no need to repeat the permission. The congregation seizes the
opportunity with avidity, and finds refreshing relief for its pent-up
feelings in the noble strains of "Huddersfield."
Still the congregation is loth to depart, though 10 o'clock is now long past.
Miss Roberts reads the story of the prodigal son, punctuating it with
quaint and picturesque comments as she proceeds. After this the meeting
is again tested, and a shoal of converts is added to the already large list.
Above the clock sits a man, who to the stewards has declared he cannot
surrender, for he is not ready. Under the gallery is another man, of
whom it is announced that he lacks not in knowledge of the plan of
salvation, but he declines to surrender. Looking in turn at the two, the
revivalist is heard to remark. sotto voce, that the man over the clock will
give in, but the one under the gallery is to be left alone. A few minutes
later the first-named is seen to collapse in a paroxysm of grief. He has
surrendered, and once more the chapel rings with the strains of "Diolch
lddo". This brings the total number of converts at this one meeting up to
70.
In response to the missioner's request the congregation stands, and in one
great volume of sound repeats after him, thrice in Welsh and thrice in
English, the verse, "Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be
saved." "There," he declares, "that verse will ring for years to come in
the ears of scores that are present, and let none of you come into any
more of these meetings without first asking God to save."
"This," declares the Rev. John Williams, "has been a meeting we shall
remember for ever, but we who are church members have room to show
more of the spirit of self-denial. A large number of non-adherents, for
whom this meeting was intended, have been turned away because
hundreds of you members who are here ought to have been at home."
Thus ended one of the most remarkable gatherings yet held.
Back to the city I travelled with a number of Liverpool Pressmen, to
whom this had been a first experience of the revival. "What think ye of it
all?" asked one of the others. "My thoughts are too tumultuous for
expression," was the reply elicited, "but this man Roberts seems to me to
be beyond human comprehension."
On Sunday, Mr. Evan Roberts enjoyed a rest, but in the afternoon
accompanied by the Rev. John. Williams, he paid a surprise visit to the
Princes Road Welsh C.M. Sunday School, and there officiated at a
distribution of prizes.
The Missioner as Thought Reader.
LIVERPOOL, Monday.
The startling declaration of Mr. Evan Roberts at the Shaw-street meeting
on Saturday night that there were present five persons envious of the
work of saving souls then proceeding, and that three of the five were
preachers of the gospel will be recalled.
A Liverpool barrister, in a letter to the "Liverpool Daily Post," writes "I
was present at the meeting and at that period when the names of converts
were being taken. A minister was standing close behind me. Just then
another minister came up to him having a piece of paper, apparently with
the names of converts on it. The latter minister said to the first minister in
reference to a young man whose name he had taken, and who had
prayed with great fervour, "It's all humbug," and then went on to
mention a charge, which would show that the said young man was not fit
to be a member of a church. Then the first minister began to speak about
Evan Roberts, and said, 'I have heard him at Princes-road and at Anfield,
and I see nothing in him! The second minister agreed, saying, 'I see
nothing in him either.' It was shortly after this that Evan Roberts went
into a paroxysm, and made the declaration about the five persons - three
of them ministers - who were full of envy and jealousy. I relate the
story without any comment. Evan Roberts certainly has the rare gift of
saying the right thing at the right moment."
This letter has aroused great interest, and is being keenly discussed. The
writer, however, is not quite correct. Mr. Evan Roberts did not say,
"Three of them were ministers." His exact words were, "Tri yn pregethu
yr efengyl" (three of them preachers of the gospel).
In private conversation afterwards the same evening Mr. Evan Roberts
said, "They were preachers, not ministers. The fourth was the son of a
minister, and the fifth the son of a deacon."
Sketch V
Church Members Denounced. - Missioner Prohibits a Test. - Congregation Abruptly Dismissed.
LIVERPOOL, Monday, April 3, 1905.
Liverpool is stirred to its very depth. The scenes witnessed at Shaw-street
Chapel on Saturday night are described as unprecedented in the religious
history of the city, and since then citizens have been, and still are,
discussing the young Welsh missioner, his attractive and magnetic
personality, the novelty of his methods, the astounding results of his
efforts, and all that pertains to him, with eagerness. Nor is the interest
confined to Liverpool. North Wales is said to be seething with
excitement, and today several "specials" poured hundreds of visitors
from the northern counties into the city.
Calling this morning at the office of Councillor Henry Jones, one of the
hon. secretaries of the Liverpool Committee, I was shown a pile of
hundreds of letters received by that day's post from correspondents from
far and wide, pleading, yea, craving, for admission tickets, while similar
requests poured incessantly into the office by telegrams and telephone.
"Then," I asked, "why not solve the problem by centralising all the
meetings henceforth in the Torrey-Alexander pavilion?" "The
committee," replied the Councillor, "would have no objection to do so,
but we cannot secure Mr. Evan Roberts's consent."
According to the original arrangements, tonight's principal meeting
should have been held at the Park-road Welsh Congregational Chapel, of
which the pastor is the Rev. O. R. Owen, late of Glandwr. Park-road is in
the south, and within five minutes' ride of the centre of the city. Mr.
Owen and his deacons realised this morning that their chapel, with 800
sittings, would prove hopelessly unequal to the occasion. In their
difficulty they appealed to their neighbours, the English Baptists, and as a
result we are now assembled in the Toxteth Tabernacle.
Two thousand people are inside now at six o'clock. Park Road
Congregational Chapel was likewise packed when I passed it half an
hour ago, and a message has just arrived stating that Mount Zion
(Wesleyan), Princes Road (Calvinistic Methodist), and Chatham Street
(Calvinistic Methodist), all in the south end, are already crowded out.
Outside Toxteth Tabernacle at the moment of writing is a crowd of at
least three or four thousand with keen disappointment depicted on every
face. A posse of Welsh constables from the Liverpool police force are
having a warm time of it, for there have been threats muttered of
storming the railings and forcing admission.
Marshals, standing on the curb inside the railings, try to pacify the crowd,
and earnestly entreat them to disperse. "No," replies one, "turn out the
ministers to make room for some of us sinners." Had the speaker
surveyed the crowd he would have realised that there was less sting in
this remark than he doubtless thought, for among the disappointed ones
were at least a dozen well-known ministers.
Subsequently inside, the Rev. O. R. Owen urged local ministers to leave
the building to conduct overflow meetings outside, and dozen
responded. The officials of the committee are loud in their praises of the
very substantial and sympathetic help rendered them by the chief
constable and his staff. It is recognised that but for their intervention a
panic, with disastrous results, might have occurred on more than on
occasion recently.
As I sit under the pulpit and scan this magnificent audience, I wonder
how many unsaved ones are among it. If heartiness of singing and
fervency of prayers count for anything, then a large proportion are
church members. Of course, this is an open meeting, and admission was
regulated on the principle of first come first served, and we must not
overlook the fact that one of the characteristics of the present revival is
the conversion of actual church members.
Young people of both sexes are here in great numbers, and scores of them
take part in the prayers. Here is a supplicant for a baptism of the Spirit
on the young of all lands. Over there is a young lady who mid sobs and
tears entreats that she be permitted to take some of the fire from
Liverpool back to her Welsh home. An old man in the baleony recites the
revival miracles he has witnessed during the last few weeks. There is
plenty of spontaneity, and the hwyl is in creasing momentarily.
Here come the missioner and his party. It is 10 minutes past 7. With him
in the pulpit are Miss Annie Davies and Miss Mary Roberts, the Rev. John
Williams, the Rev. O. R. Owen, the Rev. Dr. Phillips, Tylorstown, the
Rev. William Jones (Crosshall Street), and the Rev. T. Charles Williams,
Menai Bridge.
What is this extraordinary influence? Evan Roberts has scarcely arrived
ere we are conscious of an appreciable increase in the fervour of the
meeting. A deeper spiritual note is struck in all the prayers. A woman
who is now on her feet is uttering a prayer of overwhelming intensity and
eloquence, and the "Amenau" are deafening. She pleads for many
blessings "for the sake of Jesus Christ."
What is the missioner's mood tonight? He sits with closed eyes in the
pulpit chair. He has not been well this afternoon, so we learn. He looks
sombre, and not a single smile has yet lit his face.
"Er mwyn lesu Grist" A woman in prayer utters the words, and the
missioner, facing the audience, slowly and solemnly repeats the phrase,
"Er mwyn Iesu Grist" (for Jesus Christ's sake). He seizes upon this as his
text, and founds upon it a short address of remarkable power. Oh that
we could have seen the full depth of those four words, "for Jesus Christ's
sake." Many present, he continues, had already refused to do anything
for Jesus Christ's sake, and it would have been better for such had they
not sung some of the hymns rendered that evening. It was very easy to
cry out "Amen" and to sing. Nothing more simple, but what was needed
was work, work, work - for Jesus Christ's sake. They could enjoy seeing
others having a hwyl, but they could not have the hwyl themselves
because they had refused to work. Let them beware lest they crowded
into the house of God merely to enjoy themselves. Some who had
disobeyed the promptings of the Spirit that evening were members of
Christian churches. They were not at one with the Christ Whose name
they professed to bear. Many present were not at one with one another.
They prayed for a downpour, but the Spirit would never come to a heart
that harboured rancour and enmity. Others prayed for the fire from
heaven before they had even erected an altar and prepared a sacrifice.
What was this but a mocking of God? When the fire came it would come
to destroy some things; it would burn and consume some things; it would
purify other things. Were they ready to receive such fire?
At this moment an exciting scene was witnessed. At the far end of the
gallery opposite the pulpit a middle-aged man sprang to his feet, and in a
prayer pitched at the top of his voice made pointed reference to the
controversy that led to the secession in Liverpool from the Calvinistic
Methodists of those who now form the Free Church of the Welsh. "There
is," he exclaimed, "an old quarrel in Liverpool. Ministers of the Lord
Jesus have declined to forgive. O Lord, bend the Liverpool ministers and
compel them to forgive."
Loud-voiced and violent as was the prayer, it was almost drowned by
another man, who also in a prayer made similar references to the same
fend, and added, "They have refused tickets to our young people to the
Sun Hall, but, thank God, the road is free to heaven." For a minute or
two the missioner cast scrutinising looks at both men, and then in a
peremptory tone ordered both to sit down.
The command had several times to be repeated before it was complied
with. "There is no need to name anything to Gods" was the missioner's
subsequent comment. "He knows everything. The brother there thought
possibly that in my remarks I was alluding to something or other. I know
all about it, but I had nothing in my mind at the moment, save a
knowledge of the hindrances that exist at this meeting." After a deep
hush of some moments' duration Mr. Evan Roberts added in a low voice,
"Don't think, friends, that the service is stopped; it is going on splendidly
now. It is easy for each one of you to find out whether it is clear or not
between you and God, or clear between you and a fellow-man. If
everything is not clear between you and your enemy, it will never, never
become clear between you and God."
For the next ten minutes we had a succession of prayers, and in every one
there was an earnest plea for peace and forgiveness. "Maddeu er mwyn y
Gwaed" (forgive us for the sake of the Blood) cried one, and another
asked that they be taught to look above the ministers to Christ Himself.
A little later the painful incident became quite forgotten. Miss Annie
Davies gave a beautiful rendering of "Nearer my God to Thee," and then
the great audience abandoned itself to a veritable feast of hymn singing.
If incidents were not numerous for the next hour, the proceedings
certainly did not lack in interest. The wildness, not to say the frenzy, that
marked some previous gatherings was entirely absent. We enjoyed
rather an atmosphere of pure devotion. Only once was a jarring note
struck. That was when a man in prayer asked forgiveness for "the
brother who had tried to raise a disturbance here an hour ago, and who
may have been the means of hardening hundreds of hearts." The voice
was promptly drowned by a hymn.
After an hour's silence Mr. Evan Roberts is again on his feet. He gently
remonstrates with the congregation for its unreadiness to respond to the
promptings of the Spirit. "I have been quiet; don't think I have come here
to create a fire; it is God that gives the fire; listen to His promise - "Lo, I
am with you alway, even to the end of the world. Place all reliance upon
that promise. God reveals Himself fullest to the congregation that yields
itself absolutely to worship. What are the hindrances tonight? How
many of you have prayed before coming to the service? Not one half of
you. Hundreds of you are being moved by the Spirit this moment. Will
you still disobey?"
Suddenly, as by magic, the whole character of the meeting changed. No
sooner had the query been put than scores of voices were heard in prayer.
The painful scene witnessed at Shaw-street was now repeated in all its
intensity. Women screamed, cried, fainted. The Rev. Dr. Phillips, of
Tylorstown, sought to end the scene by putting the meeting to the usual
test, but the revivalist abruptly stopped him. An attempt to start a hymn
was similarly treated, Mr. Evan Roberts remarking, "There is to be no
testimony, no singing, until these hindrances are removed. Are you
going to permit Jesus thus to be robbed of His glory? Pray, hundreds of
you, that the hindrance be removed," and the injunction is literally
obeyed.
Meanwhile, the revivalist throws 'himself into a chair as if in a paroxysm
of pain. The attack is of short duration tonight, for presently he is again
on his feet, exclaiming, "Praise heaven, because your prayers have been
answered." The statement is received with joy, and the congregation
bursts into a perfervid rendering of "Marchog lesu yn Llwyddiannus."
The Rev. O. R. Owen's attempt to test the meeting is, however,
unceremoniously cut short. "No, no," cries the revivalist, who is now
pale and shivering, "there is to be no testing just yet. Some of those who
hindered are gone out, but some still remain. God has been very longsuffering
with these hindrances, but He will soon sweep them away like
chaff before the wind. He will not permit the Gospel to be thus
obstructed. It has cost Him too much, it has cost Him the blood of His
only begotten Son." The storm has subsided; agonising prayers give way
to testimonies; and simultaneously a confusing number are on their feet
reciting various portions of Scripture.
It is now 10. 15. People are getting uncomfortable and many have left the
building, but their places are speedily filled by others. The revivalist,
with closed eyes, is resting his head on his hand, with his elbow on the
pulpit desk, facing the audience. The Rev. John Williams announces that
at the Park-road meeting there have been several converts, and we
receive the statement with "Diolch Iddo." So far, however, every attempt
to test this congregation for converts has been stopped, and the revivalist
shows no sign of relenting. Ald. Snape, one of the leading men of
Liverpool, is seated in the pulpit, and apparently regards the proceedings
with amazement. Prominent ministers in the pulpit whisper to the
revivalist as if persuading 'him to close the meeting, but he waves them
impatiently away.
Fifteen minutes more elapse, and then comes relief. "We shall now test
the meeting," declares the missioner. "We were not permitted to do so
before, but there are persons here who still stubbornly remain hindrances.
Here is a command to them from God. 'Take care not to sing in a service
any more, and take care not to take any public part.' It is not I that say
this. It is God's command. These people are conscious that they are
hindrances. Now do as you like with the command. But you will feel the
hand of God upon you. A hand of love. Perhaps you think this service a
singular one. But God is wonderful. You would have gone on singing,
singing. It is not singing; it is purifying that we need. Don't be surprised
if you see God showing some very great wonders in the immediate
future. Now before we test the meeting let us all breathe a prayer for
salvation."
There is a deep hush. Apparently all bow and pray. But the missioner is
again displeased, and presently exclaims, "There is to be no testing tonight.
There are church members here who have disobeyed. They refuse
to pray for the salvation of souls in this meeting."
A startling statement this, and the audience appears mystified. Three
times is the command given to pray, and three times the congregation is
bent in an attitude of prayer. Surely all is now clear? "No," at last,
exclaims the revivalist, in a tone of pity mingled with scorn. We are not
going to have any testing tonight. There are church members here who
still decline to pray. We shall have no testing, no singing, no praying.
The service is at an end. You can now go home. This is not the first time
that a service has thus ended." He closed the Bible and resumed his seat.
It is within a few minutes to 11 o'clock. Slowly the huge congregation
files out of the building more mystified than ever. The question is on
hundreds of lips, What meaneth all this?"
Sketch VI
Where is the Mocker? - Unique Service at Seacombe.
SEACOMBE, CHESHIRE, Tuesday. April 4, 1905.
Tonight the Welsh revivalist, Mr. Evan Roberts, is on a visit to the Welsh
population who, to the number of many thousands, reside on this
Cheshire side of the Mersey. At 5 o'clock an enormous crowd of visitors
from Liverpool are assembled outside the Welsh Calvinistic Methodist
Church in Liscard-road. They are early for a 7 o'clock meeting, and yet
they are too late, for the chapel has been full for some time, and
arrangements are being made for overflow meetings.
Scanning the congregation, I judge it to be on the whole a gathering of
suburban swelldom, with a fair sprinkling of visitors from the North
Wales counties. Ministers are here from as far south as Aberystwyth, and
the Vale of Clwyd has sent a large contingent. The Rev. Lodwig Lewis,
the pastor of the church, opens with a prayer of remarkable fervour.
Some of his phrases are unique, and reflect the attitude of the public mind
here towards the young missioner from Loughor - "Forbid, O Lord,
that there be tonight any hindrances to the operation of Thy Holy Spirit.
Ease the burden that weighs on Thy prophet, and sustain him with Thy
strength. Many prophets of old have been unequal to the burden.
Sustain this young prophet, Lord, and help him to give us Thy Message.
He is young, he was unknown. From the mountains sendest Thou him
with a message of joy to a perishing world."
Suburban swelldom or not, these Welsh people of Seacombe and Liscard
are full of the spirit of the revival. As in Wales, so here, the eloquence of
the women in speech and in prayer sweeps everything before it. A whole
chapter of St. John with its touching picture of the incidents of the upper
room and the Last Supper, has just been reverently recited from memory
by a lady with rare elocutionary power, and now we are listening to a
passionate prayer by a servant girl, who has the broad Snowdonian
dialect.
English? There is heard scarcely a word other than Welsh at these
Liverpool meetings. We are in England, but the bilingual difficulty is far
less acute here as yet than we have seen it at Glamorgan gatherings, and
yet at every meeting scores are present of nationalities other than Welsh,
athirst for some of the spirit that has come in copious showers on the
people of Wales.
Sometimes we learn something of the identity of those participating in
the services. On Friday at Anfield a grey-headed lady in the set fawr,
who once or twice essayed to pray, was the daughter of the great John
Jones, of Talvsarn. As I write now, we are listening to an impassioned
prayer offered by the youngest daughter of the no less eminent divine the
late Dr. Owen Thomas, of Liverpool.
We were all looking forward to a bright and sunny service when the
missioner, shortly after 7 o'clock, faced the expectant congregation. So
many fervent prayers had already been offered for the removal of
hindrances, and such an intense spirit of reverence seemed to dwell in the
hearts of all present, that there seemed every prospect of our hopes being
realised. The missioner started in a pleasant mood. "Lord, who shall
dwell in Thy tabernacle?" "You can all answer," he remarked; "those
who walk uprightly, who work righteousness, who do that which is just,
who have truth in their hearts, who backbite not with their tongues."
A cloud gathers on his brow. He suddenly ceases to speak, closes the
Bible, and surveys the congregation. Then, after a deep and solemn hush,
painfully prolonged, he declares in a low voice, audible, however, in
every corner of the building: - "There are some of you here tonight who
cannot look back at your past; the thought of it horrifies you. Why?
Because you have not walked uprightly. Because there is something in
your past you would hide, but it has not been hidden. You may hide it
from men. Don't waste your time in trying to hide it from the Almighty.
Once let it be hidden by the Almighty, and it will not be revealed through
all eternity. Otherwise, everything must come to light. YOU have need
to wash your hands."
Another prolonged silence ensues. The missioner, with lowered brow
and piercing eyes, seems to be scrutinising the congregation into its very
heart. "Ask the Lord" - His words are scarcely above a whisper - "Ask
the Lord to bury your past, but before doing that you must confess Him.
We must be cleansed ere we can truly worship a God Who is holy. The
Welsh poet said,
'Daw dydd o brysur bwyso
Ar grefydd cyn bo hir'
(a day of severe testing will soon overtake religion). Heaven be praised,
that day has come. God is cleansing and purifying the temples these
days."
A little later the missioner again speaks. "Fear reigns in many hearts here
- a fear of judgment, a fear of light. Some of you are trying to deceive
the Almighty this very minute!
Suddenly he stands erect, and with eyes flashing and voice full of anger
loudly exclaims, "Where is the mocker tonight? (It was not until I
returned, about midnight, from this meeting, to the Liverpool Press Club,
that I realised the full force and meaning of this query of the missioner.
At the club I met the representative of the Daily Mail and the Daily
Dispatch, both of whom had been at the Seacombe meeting. An hour
before Mr. Evan Roberts arrived," so ran the story they related to me, "we
were joined in the chapel by Mr. - , the representative of - , a well
known Socialist organ. This was his first revival meeting. He treated the
incidents lightly, indulged in sneering and sarcastic remarks at the
expense of the worshippers, and generally played the part of the scoffing
sceptic. Judge then our surprise when we heard that startling~ query of
the Revivalist.
'Where is the mocker?' But our surprise was turned into sheer
amazement later, when shortly after the sceptic had left us, Mr. Roberts
suddenly cried out, 'It is clear now. We shall do everything for He is
receiving our worship now!" I give the incident without comment. - Gwilym Hughes.)
He may have come here to laugh and mock. How
sayeth the Psalmist, 'The Lord will mock them'? Some are here mocking
the work of the Lord and despising the Blood of the Covenant. (A pause).
Will no one here utter a prayer that this mockery be removed?"
In rapid succession, for the next fifteen minutes, prayer after prayer in
English and Welsh ascend. "God be praised, it is beginning to lighten,"
remarks the missioner at last, "Let us all pray that all the obstacles here to
the spirit of true worship be removed, and, as you pray, believe."
The congregation kneels, and silent prayers are offered. The silence, the
hush, is awe-inspiring. A woman in the audience who starts a Welsh
hymn is commanded to cease, the missioner remarking, "No matter how
great our thirst is for a successful service, Heaven is still more athirst.
Some of you want to sing with great hwyl, but the Spirit forbids. Before
we can get hwyl we must get purity, else we shall be building on the
sand.'
After a vivid word picture of the omniscience of God, the revivalist, who
has the entire audience hanging on his lips, remarks, "Some of you fled
into the darkness in an endeavour to escape from God. You have been
found out, and tonight God is turning your darkness into light. Oh! that
the day would come when every unworthy servant is swept out of the
church, or that he is made worthy. Oh, that the Lord would send an
angel down to expose the hypocrites that are in this congregation."
Five minutes later, to all appearances, the hindrances are all gone, for the
revivalist makes no further reference to them, but proceeds with an
address of great power on the need of more consecration and
strenuousness in the Christian life. A pathetic reference to Gethsemane
brings Annie Davies to her feet with a sweetly pathetic rendering of "Cof
am y Cyfiawn lesu" to the air of "Flee as a bird."
"There," exclaims the missioner, as the singer resumes her seat, "We shall
do everything now. Sing, confess, pray, for He is receiving our worship
now." The congregation received the announcement with evident relief,
and presently we are listening to inspiring renderings of "Dyma Gariad,"
"Marchog lesu," and other old favourites.
There is a novelty in the test tonight, conducted by the Rev. John
Williams. "All who desire to live better lives, to become more
consecrated to the Lord and His work," is the first query. It is put in
Welsh and in English, and when hands are raised the Rev. gentleman fails
to see one that is not lifted. There are many, however, who are not
church members. Of some it is said, after inquiry, that they do not desire
to surrender just yet. Only one conversion is announced.
Sketch VII
Sweetness and Joy. - A Sparkling Service.
LIVERPOOL, Wednesday, April 5, 1905.
Tonight we are assembled in the Crescent English Congregational
Church, Everton Brow, which normally provides accommodation for
1,200. When this morning it was decided to substitute this building for
the Welsh Tabernacle, which it was originally arranged Evan Roberts
should visit tonight, the committee, with the consent of the Crescent-
Church deacons, had a huge platform erected at the pulpit end running
up almost to the ceiling. This increased the sitting capacity of the
building by many hundreds.
Since four o'clock this chapel has been packed to suffocation; so have six
others, all in Everton, and at each the proceedings are at fever heat. This
is Evan Roberts's seventh meeting since his arrival in Liverpool, and he
has ten more to address ere his mission ends. It is by no means certain
that at the end of that time the revivalist will return to Glamorgan. He is
being inundated with urgent appeals by letters and telegrams to visit
North Wales, and a tour through Flintshire is already being arranged.
Carnarvonshire and Anglesey are also likely to be visited, and a strong
desire is expressed that the revivalist should visit Rhos, near Wrexham,
where a remarkable revival broke out last November simultaneously
with that at Loughor. By the way, the Rhos converts are very prominent
at this meeting tonight. The Rev. Jonah Hughes, who comes from that
district, has just concluded an address of great power, describing the
marvellous changes he has witnessed in that corner of Denbighshire
during the last few months.
The revivalist is late tonight. It is 7. 20, and he has not yet appeared. Can
it be that we have been misinformed, and that this is not the meeting
selected for his visit? Presently we are reassured on the point, for we
learn that this afternoon, accompanied by the Rev. John Williams, he
unexpectedly appeared at a ladies' Dorcas meeting at the David-street
Chapel, where he delivered a short address. Then he was driven to West
Derby for a short rest at the residence of Councillor Henry Jones, one of
the secretaries of the local revival committee.
But here he is. It is 7. 30, and the meeting is in full swing. Never have I
seen the revival tide rise higher. The prayers, the hymns, the testimonies,
are all aglow. The word enthusiasm is hopelessly inadequate to describe
the tone that prevails, and certainly it is not frenzy. There is an influence
abroad that thrills the strongest.
"The Spirit is here!" are the revivalist's opening words. Is this the
explanation of the phenomenon we witness? "But," he continues, "the