The prophet in the former of these verses seems to be expanding the
thoughts that lie in the name, 'the Lord of hosts,' in so far as that
name expresses the divine relation to the starry universe. The image
that underlies both it and the words of the text is that of a captain
who commands his soldiers, and they obey. Discipline and plan array
them in their ranks; they are not a mob, but an army. The voice that
reads the roll-call summons one after another to his place, and,
punctually obedient, there they stand, ready for any evolution that may
be prescribed. The plain prose of which is, that night by night above
the horizon rise the bright orbs, and roll on their path obedient to
the Sovereign will; 'because He is strong in might not one' is lacking.
Astronomers have taught us, what the prophet did not know, that even in
the apparently serene spaces there are collisions and catastrophes, and
that stars may dwindle and dim, and finally go out. But while Scripture
deals with creation neither from the scientific nor from the aesthetic
point of view, it leaves room for both of these--for all that the
poet's imagination can see or say, for all that the scientist's
investigation can discover, it sees that beneath the beauty is the
Fountain of all loveliness, beneath and behind the 'number' of the
numberless stars works the infinite will of God. Surely an intelligible
creation must have an intelligent source. Surely a universe in which
Mind can apprehend order and number must have a Mind at the back of it.
Wordsworth has nobly said of Duty what we may more truly say of God:
'Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong, And the most ancient heavens
through Thee are fresh and strong.' 'For that He is great in might, not
one faileth.' Scripture bids us think of God, not as a creative energy
that set the universe in motion, and leaves it to roll or spin, but as
of a Divine Presence--to use a word which can only be in a very
modified sense applied to that mysterious, intelligent
Entity--operating in, and being the sustaining Cause of, all that is.
This Divine Presence stamps its signature on the unfailing strength of
these bright creatures above.
But in our second text we drop from the illumination of the heavens to
the shadowed plain of this low earth. It is as if a man, looking up
into the violet sky, with all its shining orbs, should then turn to
some reeking alley, with its tumult and its squalor. Just because man
is greater than the stars, man 'fails,' whilst they shine on unwearied.
For what the prophet has in view as the clinging curse that cleaves to
our greatness, is not merely the bodily fatigue which is necessarily
involved in the very fact of bodily existence, since energy cannot be
put forth without waste and weariness, but it is far more the weary
heart, the heart that is weary of itself, the heart that is weary of
toil, the heart that is weary of the momentary crises that demand
effort, and wearier still of the effortless monotony of our daily
lives; the heart that all of us carry, and which to all of us sometimes
whispers, with a dark and gloomy voice which we cannot contradict,
'Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.' I was going to say, happy are you
if you do not know that weariness, but I check myself and say, tenfold
more miserable are you if you have never been sober and wise enough to
have felt the weariness and weight of all this unintelligible world,
and of your own sorry selves.
For it is ever to be remembered that the faintness and the ebbing away
of might, which is the truly tragic thing in humanity, does not depend
upon physical constitution, but upon separation from the Source of all
strength, breaking the union between ourselves and God. If a star could
shake off its dependence, and shut out the influx of the sustaining
power that by continual creation preserves it, it would die into
darkness, or crumble into dust. It cannot, and we cannot, in so far as
our physical being is concerned, but we can shake ourselves free from
God, in so far as the life of the spirit is concerned, and the godless
spirit bears the Cain-curse of restlessness and weariness ever upon it.
So the contrast between the unfailing strengths that ever shine down
upon us from the heavens, and the weariness of body and of mind
afflicting the sleeping millions on whom they shine, is tragical
indeed. But far more tragical is the contrast, of which the other is
but an indication because it is a consequence, the contrast between the
punctual obedience with which these hosts, summoned by the great
Commander, appear and take their places, and the self-will which turns
a man into a 'wandering star unto whom is reserved the blackness of
darkness for ever.' Above is peace and order, because above is the
supremacy of an uncontested will. Below is tumult and weariness,
because when God says 'Thou shalt,' men respond, 'I will not.'