104th Psalm would have said—The Lord has
taken the belief out of men’s hearts and minds.
And I cannot but hope that He has taken it away,
and allows us to believe no more in demons and fairies
ruling the world around us, in order that we may believe
in Him, and nothing but Him, the true Ruler of the
world; in Him of whom it is written, “Him shalt
thou worship, and Him only shalt thou serve;”
even God the Father, of whom are all things, and God
the Son, by whom are all things, and God the Holy
Spirit, who is the Lord and Giver of life, alike to
sun and stars over our heads, and to the meanest weed
and insect under our feet; the Lord and Giver of life
alike to matter and spirit, soul and body, worm and
man, and angel and archangel before the throne of God.
I hope it is so. I trust it is so. For
we never had more need than now to believe with all
our hearts in the living God; to take into all our
hearts the teaching of the 104th Psalm. For now
that we have given up believing in superstitions,
we are in danger of going to the other extreme, and
believing in nothing at all which we cannot see with
our eyes, and handle with our hands. Now that
we have given up believing in the fabled supernatural;
in ghosts, fairies, demons, witches, and such-like:
we are in danger of giving up believing in the true
and eternal supernatural, which is the Holy Spirit
of God, by whom the whole creation is kept alive and
sound. We are in danger of falling into a low,
stupid, brutish view of this wonderful world of God
in which we live; in danger of thinking of nature—that
is, of the things which we can see and handle—only
as something of which we can make use—till
we fall as low as that poor ruffian, of whom the poet
says:
A primrose on the river’s
brim
A yellow primrose was to him,
And it was nothing
more.
Lower, that is, than even our own children, whom God
has at least taught to admire and love the primroses
for their beauty—as something precious
and divine, quite independent of their own emotions
about them. Men in these days are but too likely
to fall into the humour of those poor savages, of
whom one who knows them well said to me once—bitterly
but truly—that when a savage sees anything
new, however wonderful or beautiful, he has but two
thoughts about it; first—Will it hurt me?
and next—Can I eat it? And from that
truly brutish view of God’s world, we shall
be delivered, I believe, only by taking in with our
whole hearts the teaching of the 104th Psalm; which
is indeed the teaching of all Holy Scripture throughout.
The Psalmist, in the passage which I have chosen,
is talking of the circulation of water on the earth;
how wisely and well it is ordered; how the vapours
rise off the sea, till the waters stand above the mountain-tops,
to be brought down in thunder-storms—for
in his country, as in many hot ones, thunder was generally
needed, at the end of the dry season, to bring down
the rain; how it forms springs in the highland, and
flows down from thence in brooks and rivers, making
the whole lowland green and fertile. Well—all
very true, you may say. But that is simply a
matter of science, or indeed of common observation
and common sense. It is not a subject for a
psalm or for a sermon.