fixed and determined purpose? Any end thou pursuest with stedfastness? The principles I have embraced under the name of the Christian Religion, the things I have so often heard about a future state and life, and death eternal, are they true or false? If they are true, as we all absolutely profess to believe they are, then, to be sure, the greatest and most important matters of this world are vain, and even less than vanity itself: all our knowledge is but ignorance, our riches poverty, our pleasure bitterness, and our honours vile and dishonourable. How little do those men know, who are ambitious of glory, what it really is, and how to be attained! Nay, they eagerly catch at the empty shadow of it, while they avoid and turn their backs upon that glory which is real, substantial, and everlasting. The happiness of good men, in the life to come, is not only infinitely above all our expressions, but even beyond our most enlarged thoughts. By comparing, however, great things with small, we attain some faint notion of these exalted and invisible blessings, from the earthly and visible enjoyments of this world. In this respect, even the holy scriptures descend to the weakness of our capacities, and, as the Hebrews express it, "the law of God speaks the language of the children of ment." They speak of this celestial life, under the representations of an heritage, of riches, of a kingdom, and a crown, but with uncommon epithets, and such as are by no means applicable to any earthly glory, or opulence, however great. It is an inheritance, but one that is uncorrupted, undefiled, and that fadeth not away: a kingdom, but one that can never be shaken, much less ruined; which can never be said of the thrones of this sublunary world, as evidently appears from the histories of all nations, and our own recent experience. Here, ye sons of Adam, a covetous and ambitious race, here is room for a laudable avarice; here are motives to excite

* Est aliquid quo tendis, & in quid dirigis arcum ? + Lex Dei loquitur linguam filiorum hominum.

your ambition, and, at the same time, the means of satisfying it to the full: but it must be acknowledged,, that the belief of these things is far from being common. What a rare attainment is faith! Seeing among the prodigious crowds of those who profess to believe, in this world, one might justly cry out, Where is a true believer to be found? That man shall never persuade me, that he believes the truth and certainty of heavenly enjoyments, who cleaves. to this earth, nay, who does not scorn and despise it, with all its baits and allurements, and employ all his powers, as well as his utmost industry, to obtain these immense and eternal blessings.

Nor is there any thing in the way to these enjoyments that can deter you from it, unless holiness in heart and life appear to be a heavy and troublesome task to you: whereas, on the contrary, nothing surely can be named, that is either more suited to the dignity of human nature, more beautiful and becoming, or attended with greater pleasure. I therefore beseech and intreat you, by the bowels of divine mercy, and by your own most precious souls, that you would seriously consider these things, and make them your principal study; try an experiment, attended with no danger or expence, make a trial of the ways of this wisdom, and I doubt not but you will be so charmed with the pleasantness thereof, that you will never thenceforward depart from them. For this purpose, I earnestly recommend to you, to be constant and assiduous in prayer; nay, it is St. Paul's exhortation, that you pray without ceasing'. So that prayer may be, not only, according to the old saying, "the key that opens the day, and the lock that shuts up the night; but also, so to speak, a staff for support in the day-time, and a bed for rest and comfort in the night; two conveniences which are commonly expressed by one single Hebrew word. And be assured, that the more fre* Clavis diei, & sera noctis.

11 Thes. v. 17.

VOL. IV.

P

quently you pray, with so much the greater ease and pleasure will your prayers be attended, not only from the common and necessary connection between acts and habits, but also from the nature of this duty; for prayer, being a kind of conversation with God, gradually purifies the soul, and makes it continually more and more like unto him. Our love to God is also very much improved by this frequent intercourse with him; and by his love on the other hand, the soul is effectually disposed to fervency, as well as frequency in prayer, and can, by no means, subsist without it.

LECTURE II.

Of HAPPINESS, its Name and Nature, and the Desire of it implanted in the Human Heart.

OW deep and dark is that abyss of misery, into which man is precipitated by his deplorable fall, since he has thereby lost, not only the possession, but also the knowledge of his chief or principal good? He has no distinct notion of what it is, of the means of recovering it, or the way he has to take in pursuit of it. Yet the human mind, however stunned and weakened by so dreadful a fall, still retains some faint idea, some confused and obscure notions of the good it has lost, and some remaining seeds of its heavenly original *. It has also still remaining a kind of languid sense of its misery and indigence, with affections suitable to those obscure notions: from this imperfect sense of its poverty, and these feeble affections, arise some motions and efforts of the mind, like those of one groping in the dark, and seeking rest every where, but meeting with it no where. This at least is beyond all doubt, and indisputable, that all men wish well to themselves, nay, that they all catch at, and desire to attain the enjoyment of the most absolute and perfect good: even the worst of men have not lost this regard for themselves, nor can they possibly divest themselves of it. And though, alas! it is but too true, that, as we are naturally blind, we run ourselves upon misery under the disguise of happiness, and not only embrace, according to the common saying, "a cloud instead of Junot, but death itself instead of life; yet, even from this most fatal error, it is evident that we naturally pur* Cognati semina cœli. + Nubem pro Junone,

sue either real happiness, or what, to our mistaken judgment, appears to be such. Nor can the mind of man divest itself of this propension, without divesting itself of its being. This is what the schoolmen mean, when, in their manner of expression, they say, "That the will is carried towards happiness, not simply as will, but as nature *.

It is true, indeed, the generality of mankind are not well acquainted with the motions of their own minds, nor at pains to observe them, but, like brutes, by a kind of secret impulse, are violently carried towards such enjoyments as fall in their way: they do but very little, or not at all, enter into themselves, and review the state and operations of their own minds; yet in all their actions, all their wishes. and desires (though they are not always aware of it themselves) this thirst after immortality exerts and discovers itself. Consider the busy part of mankind, hurrying to and fro in the exercise of their several professions, physicians, lawyers, merchants, mechanics, farmers, and even soldiers themselves; they all toil and labour, in order to obtain rest, if success attend their endeavours, and any fortunate event answer their expectations. Encouraged by these fond hopes, they eat their bread with the sweat of their brow: but their toil, after all, is endless, constantly returning in a circle; and the days of men pass away in suffering real evils, and entertaining fond hopes of apparent good, which they seldom or never attain: "Every man walks in a vain shew; he torments himself in vain "." He pursues rest and ease, like his shadow, and never overtakes them; but, for the most part, ceases to live before he begins to live to purpose. However, after all this confused and fluctuating appetite, which determines us to the pursuit of good, either real or apparent, as it is congenial with us, and deeply root

m

* In beatitudinem fertur voluntas, non ut voluntas, sed ut natura.

m Psal. xxxix. 6,