swered the
good grandmother.

Of the second part of the sermon--that in Tagalog--we have only a
few rough notes, for Padre Damaso extemporized in this language,
not because he knew it better, but because, holding the provincial
Filipinos ignorant of rhetoric, he was not afraid of making blunders
before them. With Spaniards the case was different; he had heard
rules of oratory spoken of, and it was possible that among his hearers
some one had been in college-halls, perhaps the alcalde, so he wrote
out his sermons, corrected and polished them, and then memorized and
rehearsed them for several days beforehand.

It is common knowledge that none of those present understood the drift
of the sermon. They were so dull of understanding and the preacher
was so profound, as Sister Rufa said, that the audience waited in
vain for an opportunity to weep, and the lost grandchild of the
blessed old woman went to sleep again. Nevertheless, this part had
greater consequences than the first, at least for certain hearers,
as we shall see later.

He began with a "_Mana capatir con cristiano_," [91] followed by an
avalanche of untranslatable phrases. He talked of the soul, of Hell,
of "_mahal na santo pintacasi_," [92] of the Indian sinners and of
the virtuous Franciscan Fathers.

"The devil!" exclaimed one of the two irreverent Manilans to his
companion. "That's all Greek to me. I'm going." Seeing the doors
closed, he went out through the sacristy, to the great scandal of
the people and especially of the preacher, who turned pale and paused
in the midst of his sentence. Some looked for a violent apostrophe,
but Padre Damaso contented himself with watching the delinquent,
and then he went on with his sermon.

Then were let loose curses upon the age, against the lack of reverence,
against the growing indifference to Religion. This matter seemed to
be his forte, for he appeared to be inspired and expressed himself
with force and clearness. He talked of the sinners who did not attend
confession, who died in prisons without the sacraments, of families
accursed, of proud and puffed-up little half-breeds, of young sages
and little philosophers, of pettifoggers, of picayunish students,
and so on. Well known is this habit that many have when they wish
to ridicule their enemies; they apply to them belittling epithets
because their brains do not appear to furnish them any other means,
and thus they are happy.

Ibarra heard it all and understo