great multitude. The world sits in its
chariot and drives tandem, and the horse ahead is Huzza, and the horse
behind is Anathema. Lord Cobham, in King James' time, was applauded,
and had thirty-five thousand dollars a year, but was afterward
execrated, and lived on scraps stolen from the royal kitchen.
Alexander the Great after death remained unburied for thirty days,
because no one would do the honor of shoveling him under. The Duke of
Wellington refused to have his iron fence mended, because it had been
broken by an infuriated populace in some hour of political
excitement, and he left it in ruins that men might learn what a fickle
thing is human favor. "But the mercy of the Lord is from everlasting
to everlasting to them that fear Him, and His righteousness unto the
children's children of such as keep His covenant, and to those who
remember His commandments to do them." This moment "seek Him that
maketh the Seven Stars and Orion."

Again, Amos saw, as we must see, that the God who made these two
beacons of the Oriental night sky must be a God of love and kindly
warning. The Pleiades rising in mid-sky said to all the herdsmen and
shepherds and husbandmen: "Come out and enjoy the mild weather, and
cultivate your gardens and fields." Orion, coming in winter, warned
them to prepare for tempest. All navigation was regulated by these two
constellations. The one said to shipmaster and crew: "Hoist sail for
the sea, and gather merchandise from other lands." But Orion was the
storm-signal, and said: "Reef sail, make things snug, or put into
harbor, for the hurricanes are getting their wings out." As the
Pleiades were the sweet evangels of the spring, Orion was the warning
prophet of the winter.

Oh, now I get the best view of God I ever had! There are two kinds of
sermons I never want to preach--the one that presents God so kind, so
indulgent, so lenient, so imbecile that men may do what they will
against Him, and fracture His every law, and put the cry of their
impertinence and rebellion under His throne, and while they are
spitting in His face and stabbing at His heart, He takes them up in
His arms and kisses their infuriated brow and cheek, saying, "Of such
is the kingdom of heaven." The other kind of sermon I never want to
preach is the one that represents God as all fire and torture and
thundercloud, and with red-hot pitch-fork tossing the human race into
paroxysms of infinite agony. The sermon that I am now preaching