Almighty, Thine this universal frame,
Thus wondrous fair; Thyself how wondrous then!’ ”
“ ‘Thyself how wondrous then!’ ” repeated Hamilton, reverentially.
“I don't know how it is, Louis,” said Frank; “in cathedrals, and in beautiful scenery, when a grave fit comes over me, I sometimes think I should like to be religious.”
Louis squeezed his hand, but did not speak.
“Take care, Frank,” said Hamilton with some emotion. “Be very, very careful not to mistake sentiment for religion. I am sure it is so easy to imagine the emotion excited by beauty of sight or sound, religious, that we cannot, be too careful in examining the reason of such feelings.”
“But how, Hamilton?” said Frank. “You would not check such impressions?”
“No; it is better that our thoughts should be carried by beauty to the source of all beauty; but to a poetical, susceptible imagination this is often the case where there is not the least vital religion, Frank. The deist will gaze on the splendid landscape, and bow in reverence to the God of nature, but a Christian's thoughts should fly to his God at all times; the light and beauty of the scenes of nature should be within himself. When a person's whole religion consists in these transient emotions, he ought to mistrust it, Digby.”
“But, dear Hamilton,” said Louis, after a few minutes' silence, “we ought to be thankful when God gives us the power of enjoying the beautiful things He has made. Would it not be ungrateful to check every happy feeling of gratitude and joy for the power to see, and hear, and enjoy, with gladness and thankfulness, the loveliness and blessings around?”
“The height of ingratitude, dear Louis,” said Hamilton, emphatically. “But I am sure you understand me.”