On a Friday night, a deputation of two elders from Llanfihangel Glyn Myfyr interviewed them at Tymawr, importuning them to hold a service on the morrow at their chapel. This involved a detour of ten miles, as they were due at Bala early. Mr Phillips thought that it was absurd to entertain such an inconvenient request, but his colleague took him aside and told him he felt induced to consent. Having perfect confidence in his friend's intuitions, Mr Phillips immediately sacrificed his personal objections, and they returned to the deputation. "How will you get a congregation for us, as we have not been announced ? " they asked. "Promise to come, and we'll see to that," was the eager reply. "Very well; we shall be with you at eight to-morrow morning." Away hastened the delegates, and from cottage to cottage over those lonely moors and hills, messages sped throughout the night announcing the early service. The chapel was crowded with worshippers at eight. "The meeting was not on our plan," said Mr Phillips to the writer, "but we saw in less than five minutes that it was on the eternal plan of God." "How?" we asked. "We had only taken hold of the hymn-book when the elders in the big seat were melted into tears; and before the hymn was all read, the weeping had spread to the congregation. Both young men and maidens, old men and children, and mothers in Israel wept unrestrainedly. Stalwart farm-hands were struck all of a heap by the mere reading of the hymn. God filled the place! " The dew of heaven had fallen heavily on the barren hillsides of Llanfihangel during the night. Distressing scenes characterised the testing of the congregation at the close of the service. Only nine yielded, but the arrows of truth had transfixed many others, who left the service literally shrieking with mental anguish. They could be heard screaming in paroxysms of agony as they climbed the heights in the distance towards their homes. When the preachers were mounting their horses, a man came to them, shaking with sobs, and said, "I went out this morning, but I have decided to join the society tomorrow. Before they had proceeded a hundred yards, a husband and wife with tear-stained cheeks hailed them, and said, "We turned our backs just now on Christ, but we will give ourselves to God's people tomorrow" Stranger than the service," wrote Mr Phillips, "was to see people crossing the fields in ones and twos to meet us, and all telling us the same story that they were going to join the church on the morrow. By this time David Morgan was blind and oblivious to his surroundings; his eyes shone like stars and his body trembled; his whole nature dilated with emotion. At last we came to a solitary spot, and there his pent-up feeling found vent in a shout that cannot be forgotten — ' Thou, O God, seest me,' Etc; and with many similar utterances he made the place ring for a long time. That was the strangest spot that I ever stood on."
From, 'The '59 Revival', by J J Morgan, pages 126-7.