ok
abroad without saying, "There must be some place where brilliant
scoundrelism shall be arrested, where innocence shall get out from
under the heel of despotism." Common fairness as well as eternal
justice demands it.

We adjourn to the great assizes, the stupendous injustices of this
life. They are not righted here. There must be some place where they
will be righted. God can not afford to omit the judgment day or the
reconstruction of conditions. For you can not make me believe that
that man stuffed with all abomination, having devoured widows' houses
and digested them, looking with basilisk or tigerish eyes upon his
fellows, no music so sweet to him as the sound of breaking hearts, is,
at death, to get out of the landau at the front door of the sepulcher
and pass right on through to the back door of the sepulcher, and find
a celestial turnout waiting for him, so that he can drive tandem right
up primrosed hills, one glory riding as lackey ahead, and another
glory riding as postilion behind, while that poor woman who supported
her invalid husband and her helpless children by taking in washing and
ironing, often putting her hand to her side where the cancerous
trouble had already begun, and dropping dead late on Saturday night
while she was preparing the garments for the Sabbath day, coming afoot
to the front door of the sepulcher, shall pass through to the back
door of the sepulcher and find nothing waiting, no one to welcome, no
one to tell her the way to the King's gate. I will not believe it.
Solomon was confounded in his day by what he represents as princes
afoot and beggars a-horseback, but I tell you there must be a place
and a time when the right foot will get into the stirrup. To
demonstrate beyond all controversy that there is another place for
adjustment, God lets the wicked live.

Why do the wicked live? For the same reason that He lets us live--to
have time for repentance.

Where would you and I have been if sin had been followed by immediate
catastrophe? While the foot of Christ is fleet as that of a roebuck
when He comes to save, it does seem as if he were hoppled with great
languors and infinite lethargies when He comes to punish. Oh, I
celebrate God's slowness, God's retardation, God's putting off the
retribution! Do you not think, my brother, it would be a great deal
better for us to exchange our impatient hypercriticism of Providence
because this man, by watering of stock, makes a million dolla