But we must hasten to the remarkable subject of their conversation. At present the patriarch did not suspect the real character of his visiters; who introduced their intended communication by asking, "Where is Sarah thy wife?" This must have excited great surprise; for how could strangers know the affairs of his family, and the particular name of his wife, which had been so recently changed? He informed them, however, that she was in the tent, where, according to the prevailing custom of the times, she had her separate table. One of the angels, immediately personating Jehovah himself, if he were not, as appears probable, the very "Angel of the Covenant," gave this solemn assurance: "I will certainly return unto thee according to the time of life; and, lo, Sarah thy wife shall have a son!" Sarah, whom curiosity had brought to the door of the tent to listen to what passed, overhearing this assurance, and looking upon it as an impossible occurrence at her time of life, laughed in derision. She had long come to the conclusion that she should produce no son to Abraham, and, therefore, that all such expectations were chimerical and ridiculous. This excessive incredulity--excessive, because a distinct assurance of the fact had been already given to Abraham upon the occasion of their change of names--was highly culpable; but while we denounce it with merited severity, let us examine our own hearts. Have _we_ never acted in a similar manner? Have _we_ never distrusted the providence of God or his promises? Who can plead exemption from a spirit of unbelief? What surmises have agitated our bosoms, when the events of life contradicted our expectations? What despondency have we shown, and what distrust, when the movements Omniscience were incomprehensible to our reason, and opposed to our apparent interest? If but one part only of the divine proceedings seemed incongruous, we have dared to arraign "the whole stupendous plan;" if but "a momentary cloud" arose upon our prospect, we have begun to fancy that order was at an end, that the sun had for ever disappeared, that God had "forgotten to be gracious, and in anger shut up his tender mercies." Let us then aim to correct these irregularities of feeling, and to dismiss these misinterpretations of providence.