The yearning for a belief is not belief. In order to be a religious poet, it is not enough, in my eyes at least, to cry "Lord! Lord!" to lie prostrate before God, and with the head in the dust, to confess His infinite power. It is necessary to feel His holy law. and to make others feel it in such sort as that they shall constantly and calmly act in obedience to its precepts. I say calmly, and this calmness of the believer must, above all things, radiate from the poet's brow upon those who listen to his lays, as the spirit of God radiated from the brow of Moses upon the Israelite multitudes wandering mistrustingly through the desert.
For this is indeed the mission of the religious poet,—to console, to strengthen, to guide. The God whom he adores is the God of life and love; that is to say, of works wrought in love,— is the God who uplifts, the God who pardons, but on condition that we shall love much, which means that we shall do much; for what is love merely contemplative, love that sacrifices not itself? Wherefore roll the forehead in the dust like an African Santon? Did He not form that forehead after His own image, that, upraised towards heaven, it might adore? Why tremble in every limb like a criminal before human justice? Has He not said, "I am the good God; purify your hearts, serve me in joy"? Such is the God of the religious poet.
