have been. That we are constrained to admit. The God of the scriptures is worthy of that highest designation. He claims all that is involved in that title, and fully demonstrates his exclusive right to it, by the works of nature, providence, and grace.

The most comprehensive and powerful language appears inexpressibly poor, whenever it is employed to describe the infinite and eternal perfections of God. It may portray excellencies which exist in creation, or such as no creature ever displayed. Imagination may even surpass, in its conceptions and combinations, all the forms of actual existence, as we are acquainted with them in created beings; but it cannot approach to the glory of the supreme and eternal Lord of all. The Holy Spirit has selected in the scripture the grandest images which nature and language can supply, to exhibit the perfection of the eternal Lord and Author of all. But what language or what pencil can fully portray the only perfect character in the universe? Greatest of Beings! Thy illimitable grandeur defies not only our words, but even our thoughts, and leaves our labouring mind to express itself in the borrowed terms and strains of thy own wonderful book-owning that "thy greatness is unsearchable," and "thy dominion throughout all generations."

What, then, shall the ineffable greatness and glory of God be a terror to me, or prevent me from offering the homage of my heart and my affections to him? No; but blending these awful splendours of his majesty with the beams of his mercy, a creature, yea, a sinner, may approach his incomprehensible glory with hope. Hope, did I say? Yea, with joy and triumph. For, if, in one view, the contemplation of this glorious Being inspires awful astonishment, and perplexing wonder, in the soul of a sinful creature, and impels him to exclaim, "Who in the heaven can be compared unto the Lord?" Yet, in another view, he presents to us the aspect of the tenderest love, and most considerate mercy, saying, "Come, and let us reason together: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as wool; though they be red like crimson, they shall become white as snow." Verily, then, "There is forgiveness with thee, that thou mayest be feared, and with the Lord there is plenteous redemption."

Reconciliation and consequent communion with the glorious and ever-blessed God, is a privilege which must be accounted among the first and highest honours an intelligent creature can enjoy. It raises him to a dignity immeasurably above his own conceptions, and frequently beyond his power to realize. It confers so real a greatness on every rational mind, as to make it forget every earthly distinction; and when made sensible of the imparted and inexpressible eminence, it loses itself in the devoutest adoration, and humblest admiration of the unparalleled condescension of the Most High. Will God, indeed, dwell with and commune with man upon the earth?

"In vain might lofty princes try
Such condescension to perform:

For worms were never raised so high
Above their meanest fellow-worm."

Our primitive qualification for communion with God is gone. God's image is defaced, and man's soul is removed to a vast moral distance from the purity and glory of the eternal mind. Moreover, man is in a desperate and dark league with God's enemy-the fallen angel of light; and this enmity against God is against the whole of his nature. Adam betrayed this as soon as he had lost his friendship and fellowship, by fleeing to hide himself from the face of his Maker. Fellowship with Satan and with sinners is man's deplorable and miserable propensity. It stamps his condition as degraded and accursed. With a mind so unlike God, so full of malignant enmity against his moral perfection, and in friendship with the infernal foe of all goodness and purity, what fellowship can he have with light, and purity, and blessedness? Surely none, while he remains in a state of guilt, under the power of sin. Yet, as this communion with God is honourable in the highest degree, so it is essentially necessary to man's happiness. Such is his constitution, his present condition and temper, that no external advantage whatever can render him blessed, without reconciliation to God. He tries the creatures, but he can only commune with them as creatures, and as creatures vastly inferior to himself. They can communi

cate only to his lower nature. His ignorance, guilt, wickedness, trouble, disappointment, and mortality, prove the necessity of communion with a being who can remove them all, or remove some, and give support under the others. Man's enemies, too, are so numerous, subtle, powerful, and experienced, that none but the Being who is almighty and all-wise can afford sufficient aid against them. Besides, his duties are so numerous, various, and spiritual, that he requires to feed and refresh his strength by the constant contemplation of an Almighty Supporter and Friend. All this he finds in the mediation of the Son of God.

How pleasant, too, is fellowship with God in Christ! What joy can, for a moment, be put in competition with that of communion with the ever-blessed God? To feel no want which God cannot remove, or has not promised to supply; no fear but he can remove-yields a felicity untasted by all but the true believer. Happy, thrice happy is the soul that is in such a case. Well may such a one exclaim, "It is good for me to draw near to God." Ah, ye poor deceived mortals, fond of earthly things, satisfied with carnal delights, and living without God in the world! your condition is pitiable in the extreme. Your best pleasures are mere dreams and shadows, and will prove, in the end, exquisite tortures, when you come to know what you have despised and lost, and when you are brought into that world where you will compare them with the joys of a mind communing with the great and blessed Lord of the universe.

LOVE TO GOD.

OUR love to any divine object is founded on a spiritual discernment of its supreme excellence. Without knowledge, passion becomes mere instinct, and not that rational, noble, elevating emotion, which it is worthy of God to implant, and of the soul of man to cultivate. The excellency of the love we enter tain discovers itself in the excellency of the object. That love is low and base whichhas not a noble aim. Our love to God, therefore, should ever be supreme-all-absorbing and commanding.

We must love him with our whole nature, or not at all.

No bounds must be set to this affection; but it must prescribe bounds to all others; it will co-exist with no rival-it must be all or nothing. Wherever it exists it reigns-it triumphs-it exalts. A soul that truly feels it will love relatives, friends, neighbours, enemies; but it will love nothing in opposition: all in subordination. Every thing else-every being beside that is loved or can be loved, is neither in competition, nor separate from God. It loves God in all, through all, for all, and best of all. Unconnected with him, no other thing or being has an attraction or recommending quality. It loves all for his sake. It is ever jealous of every object which proposes itself to the heart, lest it should not be in accordance with love to him. Love to God is a boundless passion, because its object is so it can never say or feel that it has had enough. It constantly feels as if a man were stretching out his hand to hold the sea, or grasp the planets. It is an ever-growing passion, and this is one proof of its reality, and of its divine production. As new glories open in the beloved object, it strikes a deeper root in the soul, and spreads its wider arms abroad; and thus the soul of the believer becomes "rooted and grounded in love." It is, moreover, a strong and vigorous passion. It is full of manly courage and holy daring for the honour of its object. It will do much and suffer much. It is but inflamed by being opposed. It counts nothing too great to be done, and nothing too hard to suffer, for the glory of God. It does not pause at a difficulty; but encounters it with pleasure. It does not shrink from a sacrifice, but rejoices in it. Yea, it counts all things trivial in comparison with its cherished object-to please, to serve, and to honour that, it is content to live, to suffer, and to die. Many waters cannot quench this love of God, for it is strong as death. It is a divine affection, because it is a fruit of the Spirit; and, as such, inherits a nature that cannot perish. It is an abiding affection, as opposed to such as are brief and fitful. "Love never faileth." It is not said it never fluctuates, but it never faileth. It is not a temporary gift of the Spirit, as that of prophecy, of tongues, and of miracles. Love feeds itself on every new favour, and burns with new ardour under a reflected sense

of old ones. Reader, is your love waxing warmer as you gra. dually approach its object? Accumulated, repeated, and augmented favours, should heighten your love, and awaken new and stronger emotions day by day. A hypocrite's love is like a painted fire: it is all show, but communicates no heat. Is your love to God like that?

SAYINGS.

How empty would our congregations be, if there were present no more bodies than souls!

Satan may leave the tavern and the theatre to attend the church. He is not wanted there; but here his kingdom will suffer if he does not keep a good look-out. Hence the vision of that ancient who dreamed that he saw only one Devil in the market, but a thousand in the chapel.

Where there is faith, affliction is like a sword falling on a shield; otherwise it is as a sword falling on bare flesh.

To cure lukewarmness let us frequent those lights burning as well as shining. "Let us go to Dedham and fetch fire," said the godly in Mr. Rogers's time.

Leave the world when you go to worship, as the heathen left their shoes at the temple doors, to intimate that all earthly affections must be left behind. Or as that great statesman who would lay off his robes when he went to worship God, and would say, "Lie there, Lord Cecil." "Lie there, fields, money, cares, while I go up to worship."

Lord's days are often spoiled by too much business on Saturday evenings.

Satan can keep one from the congregation, that another, and perhaps twenty, may be disturbed by one coming in late, and so he can wound two or many at one blow.

People complain that their hearts are roving in prayer, because they notice it most then; as some that their children are more unruly before strangers than at other times. Alas! they are always so, only then most observed.

THOMS, PRINTER, WARWICK SQUARE.