The spirit of the revival is spreading, and there is now ample evidence of the accuracy of the statement which I made on Wednesday that the Churches of all denominations were, and for a time had been, waiting, watching, and praying for the wave which now seems sweeping over the southern half of the Principality of Wales. The visits of Mr. Evan Roberts and his singing evangelists appear to be merely what he himself so aptly described them, “opening the doors” of the revival, for the work which is carried on by others is becoming vast in its extent and wonderfully effective in its operations. People who attend his meetings get “fired” with the zeal of the revival, and proceed to the neighbourhoods in which they live and spread the “infection” wherever they go—not only in the Churches, but in the works, in the streets, in the trains, and the subject has become, especially in the mining valleys, the principal topic of conversation among all classes of the community.

One excellent feature of the movement is its absolute freedom from sectarianism and the absence of any attempt at proselytism. The only gospel promulgated is the gospel of love, and the most effective sermon heard on Sunday, beyond question, was the performance of a young girl, with a beautiful voice, at Abercynon, singing with the most, thrilling pathos:—

“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 canu Ei glod?
Dyma destyn na’d a’n anghof
Tra bo’r Nefoedd wen yn bod.”

It was all the more effective because the words and the music expressed the thoughts of all, and because the hymn expresses, in eight lines, the real gist of the gospel of this revival,

But, in order to give some chronological order to this account of Saturday’s and today’s principal gatherings, let me just glance at the movements of Mr. Roberts and his immediate supporters. From Pontycymmer he went on Saturday to Bridgend. It was market day, and there was a large influx of people from the outlying districts, so the Town-hall was filled by half-past ten, and there was no difficulty in keeping the proceedings going, although (as is the case at the opening meeting in most of the places visited) there was what was described as a coldness which was not completely broken through for some time. Various well-known local people took part, and towards the close a very fervent spirit prevailed, but no converts declared themselves. It was the usual gathering—with no consecutive order in the doings, and the incidents were not remarkable when compared with what has occurred elsewhere.

But when Mr. Evan Roberts had left for Pyle and taken with him—that is, they followed him—apparently all the prominent lay and ministerial elements of the place, there were extraordinary scenes enacted at that same Town-hall at Bridgend. Shortly after two o’clock in the afternoon there stood at, the side door of the hall two young men and five young ladies singing the touching lines

“Calon lan yn llawn daioni,
Perffaith fel y lili dios;
Dim ond calon lan all gana,
Canu’r dydd a chanu’r nos.”

I entered, and found the Town-hall absolutely empty, but, I was quickly followed by the singers, and gradually by people from the street, and to hear and see the service that was conducted by these young people, alone and unaided—except as they were, as they prayed, “directed by the Spirit”—was a sight, which I shall never forget. A working man, who came and sat near me in his working clothes, remained untouched until one of the young women sang. “What a Friend we have in Jesus,” and he cried, “Yes, He is my friend, too,” and the ‘Diolch iddo’ which resounded through the half empty hall, must have carried a message to the streets, for the crowd grew and grew until, between half-past three and four, there was a very large audience. Three converts were made, and by the time the visitors had to leave for Abergwynfi one of the preachers from Pyle, after hearing of the gathering, returned and took up the work.

At, Pyle the chapel was not overcrowded, but it was a Saturday afternoon meeting, and the place was not so well calculated too attract outsiders as the populous mining districts. Yet it was here that Mr. Evan Roberts proved that an injustice has been done him by me and others in the press. It has been said that he is not gifted with eloquence, and that he has no pretensions to oratory. Well, he has no pretensions, it‘s true. But these later services show that his “visions” are remarkable, not only in their influence upon himself, but in their influence, when related by him, upon others as well. The dramatic incident of Pyle will rank with the highest efforts of the silver-tongued, poetic. imaginative preacher of the Welsh pulpit.

Mr. Roberts had spoken calmly, deliberately, upon his work, and dwelt upon the “love of Christ which passeth all understanding,” when he suddenly asked, “Is there no one here who will confess Christ?” A young man falteringly got up, and, after cheering him with the remark that no one need be ashamed to confess Christ, Mr. Roberts said. “Strange that we are so weak as to be unable to face a few, like we have here, to acknowledge Jesus Christ!” He then went on, with his eyes fixed upward. “I see a vision. I can see the King of Kings on His Throne I can see around Him, on each side of Him, and behind Him, a vast throng — myriads of saints, angels, seraphim and cherubim—and before that Throne stands our elder brother, Jesus. He stands there, and boldly acknowledges us — acknowledges you and me—in the presence of that vast assembly. Jesus does not falter. Jesus is not, afraid. Jesus is not ashamed. Yet we very often are afraid or ashamed, or too weak, to stand up before a few people to acknowledge the Saviour Who died for us.’

The effect was remarkable.

Just one other touch, and I shall have done with the Pyle meeting. Speaking of the work that is being done, Mr. Roberts joyously clapped his hands and shouted, “Aha, aha,” but remarked that this sort of thing could not go on for ever—this fever-heat could not be kept going long, but let them keep it going as long as they could; Iet them keep it going with a swing (which he illustrated with a swing of his right arm) to raise the Churches to a higher level, and then they could “settle down to business.” The convert's at Pyle numbered fifteen, and two more actually declared themselves at Tondu Station.

From Pyle to Abergwynfi Mr. Evan Roberts went on Saturday evening, and was there joined by the young men from Loughor and the young ladies from the Bridgend Town hall meeting. The crowded congregation was not as sympathetic at first as might have been anticipated, knowing how the people of the adjoining district have been caught by the “fire” of the revival; but as the time wore on there were remarkable scenes of excitement and enthusiasm. Mr. Evan Roberts appealed for active workers in the Churches. He declared that God does not want idle people. “Are you not prepared,” he asked, “to take off your coats?” and immediately a young collier in the gallery got up and actually pulled off his coat, which he threw upon his seat, declaring himself ready for work. The incident created great excitement, and was the means of arousing several others to respond to the call figuratively, though not so literally as the young man already mentioned.

Seeing the Abergwynfi meeting in full swing, after counting 27 converts, Mr. Roberts and his party proceeded to Abercynon, ready for to-day’s meetings, and the torch which had ignited the blaze at Abergwynfi was taken to the Sunday’s scene of operations. Tabernacle Chapel at Abercynon was crowded even before Mr. Evan Roberts appeared this morning, but the service seemed too much like the ordinary Sunday service to lead one to expect what soon followed.

I have already referred to the “sermon” conveyed in the wonderfully touching hymn rendered by one of the young ladies. It was not the first incident of the meeting, but it was “the sermon.” for Mr. Evan Roberts did not preach a sermon. The gentleman who read a portion of Scripture read it with the spirit of one “touched by the living fire.” The congregational singing was at, times very effective. But “the sermon” contained in that pathetic hymn caught the congregation and swayed it considerably with emotion. Tue missioner (Mr. Roberts) in the course of his address spoke very solemnly of the value of a soul—the purchase price, he said, of one soul was the Divine blood. He declared that he had, like others, in the past been more or less imbued with the spirit of anxiety for material position, for an easy retirement from active life and so forth, but he had now given all to God, and did not trouble to look ahead. The God which called for these things was the God Who could provide for all. He had among the letters received last night one containing a cheque for one guinea, the donor asking him not to refuse it. Refuse it, no! He took it for God and would use it for God’s work. Another letter told him to write if he wanted money; so that God opened hearts to provide, and he had absolutely no care for the future. Some people, he said, strained their eyes to look ahead, and did not see or smell the beautiful flowers at their feet. Then he came to a climax in relating a, simple incident. While listening to a sermon at Newcastle-Emlyn once, he said, he received much more of the spirit of the Gospel from what he saw than from what he heard. The preacher was doing very well, was -warming with his work, and sweating by the very energy of his delivery. And when he (Evan Roberts) saw the sweat on the preacher’s brow he looked beyond and saw another vision: his Lord sweating the bloody sweat in the garden (and then as Mr. Roberts thought of the “vision” he utterly broke down). The congregation sang “Diolch iddo,” and presently Mr. Roberts recovered sufficiently to proceed. On this occasion he invited those who were saved to stand on their feet. The majority of the congregation did so. He then invited those who wished to “confess Jesus” to rise, and several responded. He urged his friends to take down the names, and presently he and others spoke earnestly and privately to a number of others who had not risen. They were not in all cases successful, but at the morning service the new roll-call numbered nineteen, among them being people from Ynyshir, Ynysybwl, Pontypridd, Treharris, and other places. Thus is the “fire” spread.

In the afternoon the meeting was held at the Welsh Congregational Chapel, one of the largest sacred buildings in the town, and the accommodation even then was quite inadequate, and an overflow meeting was held at Bethania. A pathetic rendering of a Welsh hymn was given by Miss Stevens, who broke down, but quickly recovered herself. Mr. Roberts spoke for over an hour, and remarked that, although some people laughed and scorned at the movement, he did not mind, and trusted in the Holy Spirit.

[These remaining chapters are availible on the CD-ROM which can be purchased shortly]