is eternal, without wishing to know more particularly than it is in our power to know, in what his Eternity consists. We, who are frail, imperfect creatures, can recollect but, little of what is past, since the short time that we were called into existence. We are ignorant of many events which are now taking place, and what is concealed in the womb of futurity is entirely hidden from our knowledge. The consideration of this may enable us to form a faint idea of the Eternity of God. In all these respects He possesses in an infinite degree those qualities in which we are deficient. He sees all things past, present, and to come, at one clear and certain view, not as if they all existed at once, but as being all within the compass of his knowledge. Many things happen to us which are unforeseen and unexpected. Our knowledge is perpetually increasing,

our notions ever changing, our bodies continually altering their composition, and our minds successively under the influence of the various

modifications of the passions of hope and fear, joy and sorrow, desire and aversion. But with respect to the Deity, nothing is new; nothing surprising; nothing can happen without his knowledge, and even without his permission: His happiness cannot be affected by any thing external. No new emotion can arise in his mind ; nor any uneasy fear disturb his tranquillity; no alteration whatever can take place in his councils, for all things were foreseen by Him, and all things conspire to fulfil his pleasure. These, though inadequate and imperfect, are perhaps the most proper sentiments which we can form of the Eternity of God; and such sentiments as these, if rendered habitual, cannot fail to answer the most valuable purposes, and to produce the most important effects upon our temper and conduct.

In pointing out the effects which the consideration of the Eternity of God ought to have upon our minds, I need

not enlarge upon the demands which it makes upon our highest reverence and veneration. Though it is but little that we know of Eternity, yet that little fills the mind with awe. How incomprehensibly great! how transcendently glorious must be that Being who is underived, eternal, and immutable! He has certainly a claim to our highest regards, our utmost reverence, and our supreme religious homage. Him, therefore, let us venerate and adore; and, whenever we approach the throne of His Majesty, let our minds be deeply affected by a sense of his Greatness and our own unworthiness; and let all our behaviour manifest the utmost reverence for the perfections of His character, and the greatest humility on account of the imperfections of our own. Again,

Eternity ought not to be considered so much as a distinct attribute of the Divine Nature as the character of all his perfections. His Power, his Wisdom, his Goodness, his Justice, and his Mercy

are unchangeable and everlasting. This is the most elevating consideration that can enter the human mind. The kind intentions of our fellow-creatures towards us a thousand accidents may prevent them from executing. The promises which they make of their assistance and friendship, it may not be in their power to perform but absolute certainty belongs to God. Whatever He promises, He is able to perform, and whatever He promises sooner or later He will perform. Vain, therefore, are the objections of those who, contemplating the ravages war, the corruptions of religion, and the many natural and moral evils which abound in the world, ask, "Where is the promise of his coming, for since the fathers fell asleep all things continue as they were from the beginning of the creation ?" To this objection we may reply in the words of St. Peter, " Beloved, be not ignorant of this one thing, that one day is with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day." God

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is faithful, and will, in some period of duration or other, certainly perform whatever He has promised. His truth will stand secure and firm, though all created things, which were formed only for a temporary duration, shall fade and die. The friendship of men is uncertain and precarious. All things here below are perpetually changing, and nothing is more fluctuating than the state of man. The eye which now regards us with fond affection may soon be closed; the heart which is now united to ours may soon be separated from it; the breast which now glows with sympathetic pleasure, or heaves with sympathetic sorrow, may soon cease to be responsive to the feelings of friendship; the hand which is now ready to assist us, may soon become cold and motionless. Nothing here is certain, but one great and important event; the world itself passeth away, and all things, both within us and without us, are hastening apace to dissolution. But amidst this perpetual round of transitory being,