ishop Scott, and his
humility, strong sense, deep earnestness, and holy emotion, made a
profound and happy impression on all present. The church was again
crowded the next night. Among the audience was a considerable number of
Southerners--wild fellows, who were not often seen in such places,
among them the enthusiastic Kentuckian already alluded to. Kavanaugh,
after going through with the preliminary services, announced his text,
and began his discourse. He seemed not to be in a good preaching mood.
His wheels drove heavily. Skirmishing around and around, he seemed to be
reconnoitering his subject, finding no salient point for attack. The
look of eager expectation in the faces of the people gave way to one of
puzzled and painful solicitude. The heads of the expectant Southerners
drooped a little, and the betting Kentuckian betrayed his feelings by a
lowering of the under-jaw and sundry nervous twitchings of the muscles
of his face. The good Bishop kept talking, but the wheels revolved
slowly. It was a solemn and "trying time" to at least a portion of the
audience, as the Bishop, with head bent over the Bible and his broad
chest stooped, kept trying to coax a response from that obstinate text.
It seemed a lost battle. At last a sudden flash of thought seemed to
strike the speaker, irradiating his face and lifting his form as he gave
it utterance, with a characteristic throwing back of his shoulders and
upward sweep of his arms. Those present will never forget what followed.
The afflatus of the true orator had at last fallen upon him; the mighty
ship was launched, and swept out to sea under full canvas. Old Kentucky
was on her feet that night in San Jose. It was indescribable. Flashes of
spiritual illumination, explosive bursts of eloquent declamation,
sparkles of chastened wit, appeals of overwhelming intensity, followed
like the thunder and lightning of a Southern storm. The church seemed
literally to rock. "Amens" burst from the electrified Methodists of all
sorts; these were followed by "hallelujahs" on all sides; and when the
sermon ended with a rapturous flight of imagination, half the
congregation were on their feet, shaking hands, embracing one another,
and shouting. In the tremendous religious impression made, criticism was
not thought of. Even the betting Kentuckian showed by his heaving breast
and tearful eyes how far he was borne out of the ordinary channels of
his thought and feeling.

He came to Sonora, whe