that could take in the whole compass of
nature, and pass from one end of creation to the other; as it is
possible there may be such a sense in ourselves hereafter, or in
creatures which are at present more exalted than ourselves. We see many
stars by the help of glasses, which we do not discover with our naked
eyes; and the finer our telescopes are, the more still are our
discoveries. Huygenius carries this thought so far, that he does not
think it impossible there may be stars whose light is not yet travelled
down to us since their first creation. There is no question but the
universe has certain bounds set to it; but when we consider that it is
the work of infinite power, prompted by infinite goodness, with an
infinite space to exert itself in, how can our imagination set any
bounds to it?

To return, therefore, to my first thought, I could not but look upon
myself with secret horror, as a being that was not worth the smallest
regard of one who had so great a work under his care and
superintendency. I was afraid of being overlooked amidst the immensity
of nature, and lost among that infinite variety of creatures, which in
all probability swarm through all these immeasurable regions of matter.

In order to recover myself from this mortifying thought, I considered
that it took its rise from those narrow conceptions which we are apt to
entertain of the Divine nature. We ourselves cannot attend to many
different objects at the same time. If we are careful to inspect some
things, we must of course neglect others. This imperfection which we
observe in ourselves is an imperfection that cleaves in some degree to
creatures of the highest capacities, as they are creatures, that is,
beings of finite and limited natures. The presence of every created
being is confined to a certain measure of space, and consequently his
observation is stinted to a certain number of objects. The sphere in
which we move, and act, and understand, is of a wider circumference to
one creature than another, according as we rise one above another in the
scale of existence. But the widest of these our spheres has its
circumference. When therefore we reflect on the Divine nature, we are so
used and accustomed to this imperfection in ourselves, that we cannot
forbear in some measure ascribing it to Him in whom there is no shadow
of imperfection. Our reason indeed assures us that his attributes are
infinite; but the poorness of our conceptions is such, that