tempest. The ancients were the more apt to study the physiognomy and
juxtaposition of the heavenly bodies, because they thought they had a
special influence upon the earth; and perhaps they were right. If the
moon every few hours lifts and lets down the tides of the Atlantic
Ocean, and the electric storms of last year in the sun, by all
scientific admission, affected the earth, why not the stars have
proportionate effect?

And there are some things which make me think that it may not have
been all superstition which connected the movements and appearance of
the heavenly bodies with great moral events on earth. Did not a meteor
run on evangelistic errand on the first Christmas night, and designate
the rough cradle of our Lord? Did not the stars in their courses fight
against Sisera? Was it merely coincidental that before the destruction
of Jerusalem the moon was eclipsed for twelve consecutive nights? Did
it merely happen so that a new star appeared in constellation
Cassiopeia, and then disappeared just before King Charles IX. of
France, who was responsible for St. Bartholomew massacre, died? Was it
without significance that in the days of the Roman Emperor Justinian
war and famine were preceded by the dimness of the sun, which for
nearly a year gave no more light than the moon, although there were no
clouds to obscure it?

Astrology, after all, may have been something more than a brilliant
heathenism. No wonder that Amos of the text, having heard these two
anthems of the stars, put down the stout rough staff of the herdsman
and took into his brown hand and cut and knotted fingers the pen of a
prophet, and advised the recreant people of his time to return to God,
saying: "Seek Him that maketh the Seven Stars and Orion." This
command, which Amos gave 785 years B.C., is just as appropriate for