other beings, and at last terminate in him; because he himself is that very end, and out of him there is neither beginning nor end. The felicity of angels, which is an intermediate degree of happiness, we shall not insist on, not only because it is foreign to our purpose, but also because our felicity and theirs will be found upon the matter to be precisely the

same.

With regard to our own happiness, we shall first shew, that such happiness really exists; and, next, enquire what it is, and wherein it consists. We assert then, that there is such a thing as human felicity and this ought rather to be taken for granted as a matter unquestionable, than strictly proved. But when I speak of human felicity, I am well satisfied you will not imagine, I mean such a happiness as may be had from human things, but that I take the term subjectively, and understand by it the happiness of man. Now, he who would deny, that this is not only among the number of possibles, but actually attained by some part, at least, of the human race, would not only render himself unworthy of such happiness, but even of human nature itself; because he would thereby do all in his power to deprive it of its highest expectations, and its greatest honour: but, whoever allows, that all things were produced by the hand of an infinitely wise Creator, cannot possibly doubt, that man, the head and ornament of all his visible works, was made capable of a proper and suitable end. The principal beauty of the creation consists in this, that all things in it are disposed in the most excellent order, and every particular intended for some noble and suitable end; and if this could not be said of man, who is the glory of the visible world, what a great deformity must it be, how great a gap in nature; and this gap must be the greater, that as we have already observed, man is naturally endued with strong and vigorous desires

towards such an end: yet on this absurd supposition, "all such desires and expectations would be vain, and to no purpose;" and so something might be said in defence of that peevish and impatient expression, which escaped the Psalmist in a fit of excessive sorrow, and he might have an excuse for saying, "Why hast thou made all men in vain'?” This would not only have been a frightful gap in nature, but, if I am allowed so to speak, at this rate the whole human race must have been created in misery, and exposed to unavoidable torments, from which they could never have been relieved, had they been formed not only capable of a good quite unattainable, and altogether without their reach; but also with strong and restless desires towards that impossible good. Now, as this is by no means to be admitted, there must necessarily be some full, permanent, and satisfying good, that may be attained by man, and in the possession of which he must be truly happy.

2

When we revolve these things in our minds, do we not feel from within a powerful impulse exciting us to set aside all other cares, that we may discover the one chief good, and attain to the enjoyment of it? While we inhabit these bodies, I own we lie under a necessity of using corporeal and fading things; but there is no necessity that we should be slaves to our bellies and the lusts of the flesh, or have our affections glued to this earth: nay, that it should be so, is the highest and most intolerable indignity. Can it be thought, that man was born merely to cram himself with victuals and drink, or gratify the other appetites of a body, which he has in common with the brutes? to snuff up the wind, to entertain delusive and vain hopes all the days of his life, and, when that short scene of madness is over, to be laid in the grave, and reduced to his original dust? Far be it from us to draw such con* ώςε κινην είναι καὶ ματαίαν τὴν ὄρεξιν.

1 Psal. lxxxix. 47.

clusions: there is certainly something beyond this, something so great and lasting, that, in respect of it, the short point of time we live here, with all its bustle of business and pleasures, is more empty and vanishing than smoke. "I am more consider

able, says R. S. and born to greater matters, than to become the slave of my diminutive body?" With how much greater truth might we speak thus, were we regenerated from heaven? Let us be ashamed to live with our heads bowed down, like groveling beasts gazing upon the earth, or even to catch at the vain and airy shadows of science, while, in the mean time, we know not, or do not consider, whence we took our rise, and whither we are soon to return, what place is to receive our souls, when they are set at liberty from these bodily prisons. If it is the principal desire of your souls to understand the nature of this felicity, and the way that leads to it, search the scriptures; for, from them alone, we all think, or profess to think, we can have eternal life. I exhort, and beseech you, never to suffer so much as one day to pass, either through lazy negligence, or too much eagerness in inferior studies, without reading some part of the sacred records, with a pious and attentive disposition of mind; still joining with your reading fervent prayer, that you may thereby draw down that divine light, without which spiritual things cannot be read and understood. But with this light shining upon them, it is not possible to express how much sweeter you will find these inspired writings, than Cicero, Demosthenes, Homer, Aristotle, and all the other orators, poets, and philosophers. They reason about an imaginary felicity, and every one in his own way advances some precarious and uncertain thoughts upon it; but this book alone shews clearly, and with ab solute certainty, what it is, and points out the way

* Major sum, & ad majora genitus, quam ut sim mancipium mei corpusculi.

that leads to the attainment of it. This is that which prevailed with St. Augustine to study the scriptures, and engaged his affection to them. "In Cicero, and Plato, and other such writers, says he †, I meet with many things wittily said, and things that have a moderate tendency to move the passions; but in none of them do I find these words, Come unto me, all ye that labour, and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”

+ Apud Ciceronem & Platonem, aliosque ejusmodi scriptores, multa sunt acute dicta, & leniter calentia, sed in iis omnibus hoc non invenio, Venite ad me, &c. MATT. xii. 28.

LECTURE IV.

In which it is proved that HUMAN FELICITY cannot be found either in the earth, or earthly things.

W

E are all in quest of one thing, but almost all of us out of the right road: therefore, to be sure, the longer and the more swiftly we move in a wrong path, the farther we depart from the object of our desires and if it is so, we can speak or think of nothing more proper and seasonable, than of enquiring about the only right way, whereby we may all come to see the bright fountain of goodness I know you will remember, that, on the last occasion, we proposed the most important of all questions, viz. that concerning our ultimate end, or the way to discover true happiness; to which we asserted, that all mankind do aspire with a natural, and therefore a constant and uniform ardourt; or rather, we supposed, that all are sufficiently acquainted with this happiness, nay, really do, or at least may feel it within them, if they thoroughly know themselves. For this is the end of the labours of men, to this tend all their toils; this is the general aim of all, not only of the sharp-sighted, but the blear-eyed and short-sightedt, nay, even of those that are quite blind; who, though they cannot see the mark they propose to themselves, yet are in hopes of reaching it at last: that is to say, though their ideas of it are very confused and imperfect, they all desire happiness in the obvious sense of the word. We have also observed, that this term, in its general acceptation, imports that full and perfect good which

* Boni fontem visere lucidum. + Αδιατρέπλω όρμη.

† Μυωπάζοντες.