TYLORSTOWN, Tuesday Dec. 13.

In some aspects the revival meetings held at Tylorstown have been the most remarkable of the series, incidents having occurred which broke the even flow of religious fervour and enthusiasm, and caused pain not only to the revivalist but to all who believe in his mission. Mr Roberts was addressing a crowd meeting at Ebenezer Independent Chapel this afternoon. In his most earnest tones he proclaimed that Christ had died for sinners. Collapsing under emotion, he fell back into his chair, and wept loudly for ten minutes. The scene was a touching one, which moved scores to tears. Prayers and songs of praise intermingled for some time, and Evan Roberts, having recovered himself, spoke again.

When he invited "confessions" an infidel was discovered. He avowed his infidelity and openly declared, "There is no God." Evan Roberts looked straight into the man's eyes and asked him if he meant what he said. The infidel replied through another man that he did mean it. But the revivalist was not content. He asked for a "Yes" or "No" from the man himself. With some reluctance the man rose in the pew, and created nothing less than a sensation by the deliberate and solemn declaration that he believed in his heart there was no God. There was a fresh blaze of earnestness lighting up the countenance of the revivalist, who had not taken his eyes off the infidel. "Very well," he said, with perfect calmness, "go to your bedroom tonight and try to think there is no God."

This was followed by another scene. Two Christadelphians, who were sitting on the gallery, sent up a couple of questions to the Rev Dr Phillips, a Methodist minister, who said that the meeting was not for theological debates or disputations. He would speak to his two friends if they called upon him at his house. Thereupon one of the twain got up and contended that Christ was not God. Evan Roberts sprang to his feet and asked all those who believed that Christ was God to stand up. The congregation rose in an instant, but the two Christadelphians remained seated. "Now," said Mr Roberts, "you can sit down. All who do not believe kindly stand."

One of the two youths had the courage to stand erect, and he protested that the question was not rightly put, and that the congregation had been misled. Dr Phillips again came forward and put the question definitely, "All who believe that Christ is an infinite God, stand!" Again the congregation was on its feet in a twinkling, but there were two who did not rise - the Christadelphians and the infidel. A few minutes later the two men made their way out of the chapel. These scenes were simply the forerunners of still another. One man who was sitting downstairs made the extraordinary statement that he "believed Christ was God, but he did not want Him as a Saviour." Evan Roberts turned his searching blue eyes, now kindled with a strange light, upon this man, and, with impressive deliberation, said, "If you don't want Christ why should you laugh sarcastically?" the words were piercing and shortly after they were spoken the man publicly confessed his belief that no one could save him but Christ, but that he could not accept him that night. The revivalist's difficulties were not even yet at an end. "Is there anyone here tonight," he asked, "who is in the devil's service?" One man had the courage to stand, but ere long he repented, and seeming to writhe with supernatural agony, he confessed that he had received Christ. Then he broke down utterly, and sobbed like a child, while "Diolch iddo" was sung with exultation.

And of Evan Roberts let it be said that he conducted this extremely difficult part of the meeting with all the delicacy and tact of a master. Men who have followed him from place to place, and attended nearly all his meetings, were enthusiastic in their declarations that they had never see the man's power so remarkably manifested.

This was an unpromising prelude to the mission at Tylorstown, but the conduct of these men, whatever may be thought of it, became submerged in the depths of religious emotion and fervour which marked the subsequent meetings. At one o'clock in the afternoon ministers and miners, with their wives and children attended a service at Horeb Chapel. Evan Roberts was announced to be there, but he did not make his appearance until two o'clock. He was preceded by Miss Annie Davies and Madame Kate Morgan-Llewelyn, who were accommodated with seats in the pulpit. Behind them sat about a hundred men - mostly miners of rough, rugged exterior. A stirring rendering of "Gwaed y Groes" ("The Blood of Christ") brought three men to their feet simultaneously. Two were praying in Welsh and the other in English, and each was so wrapped up in the intensity of his own feelings that he seemed oblivious of the utterances of the other.

Up to this point the service had been conducted quietly and on orthodox lines, but the "tan" ("fire") was beginning to tell, and under its influence men clapped their hands and gesticulated with joy. A collier, who had been the victim of an accident in the mine and who carried his arm in a sling, sprang to his feet. He was pale with excitement, and, roughly attired as he was, with a muffler round his neck, he present a strange figure, indeed. He prayed fervently, and another man who sat near him was so moved that he too rose to his feet. In a voice quivering with emotion he cried aloud, "Ring the bells of Heaven and frighten the devil to fly away from these valleys." "Amen" and "Diolch iddo" made the building vibrate.

A dozen men jumped to their feet simultaneously. There was a perfect Babel of Welsh and English prayer, and the signs were unmistakable that the phlegmatic, stoic Saxon was affected. Some of the ministers present essayed to speak, but their efforts were swept away by the torrent of song and prayer. The sweet and clear soprano of Miss Annie Davies and the rich contralto of Madame Llewelyn produced a thrilling effect in the beautiful Welsh hymn, "Mae'r etifeddiaeth in ni'n d'od," and the refrain was in full swing when Evan Roberts, muffled in an overcoat, entered the pulpit. One young convert led off with, "I need Thee, oh, I need Thee". Standing erect and swinging his arms, the revivalist joined in the singing, and the last note having died away he asked the congregation, "Where are you going to?" A moment's silence and he asked again, "To Christ on His Throne or to Christ on His Cross?"

The effect was electrifying, and Evan Roberts himself was the first to succumb under its influence. He was speaking of the Crucifixion when, suddenly the tears welled up into his eyes and his voice failing him he sank back into his chair. The tension of feeling, almost at breaking point was relieved by Miss Annie Davies, who sang with exquisite tenderness, "Wrth gofio'I ruddfanau'n yr Ardd," and in the circumstances there was a peculiar appropriateness in the words, "Pa galon mor galed na thodd?" ("What heart so hard that won't melt?"). The whole congregation was in tears when the soft cadences of "O, yr Oen, yr addfwyn Oen" ("Oh, the Lamb, the gentle Lamb") broke upon the ear. Young miners, nervous with emotion, thundered out their prayers. During a moment's silence Dr Phillips asked someone to pray for a man, who is well known in the district. Two or three dozen people jumped to their feet simultaneously, and the only voice that rang out above the others was that of a mere lad, who prayed earnestly and long.

Then another youth of about seventeen piteously cried out, "God, my mother is vexing for me; show her I am safe with Thee". This same young man interceded with an elderly man sitting near him. After some moments the man rose from his seat and hurriedly left the chapel. "He has felt God, but is ashamed", said the youthful intercessionist, and there was another chorus of prayer to "send him back". In answer to the appeal of a man in the gallery there was a united prayer for that man's wife and several repetitions of the refrain, "Save the mother just now", and "Save the children just now". An old man, whose voice was so feeble that it seemed to be far away in the distance, pleaded for forgiveness, and this was followed by the most pathetic scene of all. A little girl had sent up a message to the pulpit asking for prayers for her mother.

To that extent Tylorstown and Pontygwaith, with their population of about 5,000 people, are affected by the revival is best illustrated by the fact that four chapels, each capable of accommodating nearly a thousand people, were crowded in the evening. Mr Evan Roberts, who is looking much stronger than he did when he left Pontycymmer, decided upon attending the Methodist Chapel. The service had been in progress here for an hour and a half before the revivalist appeared. He found the meeting seething with ecstatic emotion. An American evangelist, who had some knowledge of Welsh, was speaking with considerable eloquence.

"Some people", he exclaimed, "think this revival is the fizz of a bottle of pop. No, no; it is the fizz of a fuse, and the dynamite is at the end of it". The hit went home. And then he went on, "We don't come here to see Evan Roberts. I have seen him long enough in my visions". This fuse, of which he had previously spoken, had now touched the dynamite, and there were "explosions" in all parts of the chapel in the form of praying and singing. Stories of wonderful conversions were also related. "God is going to save the masses", shouted the evangelist, "and He must do it in His own way. He has told the ministers to stand on one side and let Him have a try".