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 forever—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 'The Western Mail', 23rd November 1904.