84 THE VEN. ARCHDEACON W. MACDONALD SINCLAIR, D.D., ON 
3. Duty of Gratitude for what we can see. 
“God is unsearchable; the ages of His Eternity cannot 
be numbered, nor the spaces of His immensity measured ; the 
depths of His Wisdom cannot be fathomed, nor the reaches 
of His Power bounded; the brightness of His Glory can 
never be described, nor an inventory made of the treasures 
of His Goodness. This is good reason why we should 
always speak of the Eternal with humility and caution, and 
never prescribe to him or quarrel with Him; why we should 
be thankful for what He has revealed of Himself, and long 
to be there, where we shall see Him as He 1s.” 
A. Immensity and Nearness of Deity. 
‘A million beats of man’s united heart (so writes an Eastern poet) 
Are fainter than one throb of ocean’s pulse, 
Which thrills her awful veins in every part, 
And throws up waifs and shells and crimson dulse. 
A million tides of ocean’s weltering breast 
Are weaker than one glance that lights the sun, 
When in the bannered East he breaks his rest, 
His race gigantic round the sky to run. 
A million journeys of the sun’s swift foot 
Are smaller than one limit of the space 
Through which the tree of life from Being’s root 
Upsprings, powdered with stars, in heaven’s face. 
A million trees of life, with all their loads 
But poorly God’s profound domain reveal : 
The crowd of worlds that throng heaven’s thickest roads 
Are letters of a word His lips unseal. 
A inillion worlds, with universes rife, 
His all-creative might can no-wise drain : 
When closing order bounds chaotic strife, 
His fulness as before doth still remain. 
That fulness such, in earth’s stupendous force, 
That, to His thought serene and tender gaze, 
The frailest insect, hamming in its course, 
Is just as near as seraph in his blaze. 
Yes, though all worlds of space would be, combined, 
Too small to fit His finger to a ring, 
Yet is He not to humblest creatures blind, 
But daily spreads their board, and hears them sing. 
Each tear forlorn that trickles down man’s cheeks 
He marks, and pities every aching sigh ; 
To give them consolation ever seeks ; 
Their life-woes shares ; and takes them when they die.” 
