ye stars of light. Let them praise the name of the Lord: for his name
alone is excellent: his glory is above the earth and heaven."

And it is to be observed that the soul cannot be satisfied without this
religious view of Nature. The heavens and the earth are as nothing to
man, if they do not excite his awe and call forth his thanksgiving. We
might almost suppose that it is for this purpose that the sea rolls its
waves on the shore, and the violet smiles by the wayside, and the moon
floods the night with its silver radiance. As a recent writer has
observed,[1] the beauty of Nature is necessary for the perfection of
_praise_; without it the praise of the Creator would be essentially
weakened; our hearts must be roused and excited by what we see. "It may
seem extraordinary," adds our authority, "but it is the case, that,
though we certainly look at contrivance or machinery in Nature with a
high admiration, still, with all its countless and multitudinous uses,
which we acknowledge with gratitude, there is nothing in it which raises
the mind's interest in nearly the same degree that beauty does. It is an
awakening sight; and one way in which it acts is by exciting a certain
curiosity about the Deity. In what does God possess character, feelings,
relations to us?--all unanswerable questions, but the very entertainment
of which is an excitement of the reason, and throws us upon the thought
of what there is behind the veil. This curiosity is a strong part of
worship and of praise. To think that we know everything about God, is to
benumb and deaden worship; but mystical thought quickens worship, and
the beauty of Nature raises mystical thought. So long as a man is
probing Nature, and in the thick of its causes and operations, he is too
busy about his own inquiries to receive this impress from her; but place
the picture before him, and he becomes conscious of a veil and curtain
which has the secrets of a moral existence behind it,--interest is
inspired, curiosity is awakened, and worship is raised. 'Surely thou art