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 absolute certainty, what it is, and points out the way 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 *.”

LECTURE IV.

In which it is proved that Human Felicity cannot be found either in the earth or earthly things.

WE 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 further 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 inquiring 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 ardour; or rather, we supposed, that all are sufficiently

* Apud Ciceronem et Platonem, aliosque ejusmodi scriptores, multa sunt acute dicta, et leniter calentias sed in iis omnibus hoc non invenio, Venite ad me, &c. [MATT. xii. 28.1

Boni fontem visere lucidum.

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-sighted; 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 is suited to intelligent nature*. It is not to be doubted but the felicity of the Deity, as well as His being, is in Himself, and from Himself. But our inquiry is concerning our own happiness. We also positively determined, that there is some blessed end suited and adapted to our nature, and that this can by no means be denied; for since all parts of the universe have proper ends suited and adapted to their natures, that the most noble and excellent creature of the whole sublunary world, should in this be defective, and therefore created in vain, would be so great a solecism, such a deformity in the whole fabric, and so unworthy of the supreme and all-wise Creator, that it can by no means be admitted, nor even so much as imagined. This point being settled, viz., that there is some determinate good, in the possession whereof the mind of man may be fully satisfied and at perfect rest, we now proceed to inquire what this good is, and where it may be found.

The first thing, and at the same time a very considerable step towards this discovery, will be to shew where and in what things this perfect good is not to be found; not only because this point being settled, it will be easier to determine wherein it actually consists; nay, the latter will naturally flow from the former; but also because, as has been observed, we shall find the far greater part of mankind pursuing vain shadows and phantoms of happiness, and, throughout their whole lives, wandering in a

* Πρῶτὸν τι, εχατὸν τε, καὶ μέγιστον καλόν.

great variety of bye-paths, seeking the way to make a proper improvement of life, almost always hunting for that chief good where it is not to be found. They must first be recalled from this rambling and fruitless course, before they can possibly be directed into the right road. I shall not spin out this negative proposition by dividing the subject of it into several branches, and insisting separately upon every one of them; but consider all these errors and mistakes, both vulgar and practical, speculative and philosophical, however numerous they may be, as comprehended under one general head, and fully obviate them all by one single proposition, which with Divine assistance, I shall explain to you in this lecture, and that very briefly.

The proposition is, That human felicity, or that full and complete good that is suited to the nature of man, is not to be found in the earth, nor in earthly things.

Now, what if, instead of further proof or illustration, I should only say-If this perfect felicity is to be found within this visible world, or the verge of this earthly life, let him, I pray, who hath found it out, stand forth; let him tell who can, what star, of whatever magnitude, what constellation or combination of stars, has so favourable an aspect, and so benign an influence, or what is that singular good, or assemblage of good things in this earth, that can confer upon mankind a happy life. All things that, like bright stars, have hitherto attracted the eyes of men, vanishing in a few days, have proved themselves to be comets, not only of no benign, but even of pernicious influence: according to the saying, "There is no comet but what brings some mischief along with it." All that have ever lived during so many ages that the world has hitherto lasted, noble and ignoble, learned and unlearned, fools and wise men, have gone in search of happiness: has ever any one of them all, in times past, or is there any one at this day that has said, Eugnxa, I have found it? : Different men have given different definitions and descriptions of it, and according to their various turns of mind, have

* Ουδείς γὰρ κομήτες ὅστις οὐ κακόν φέρει,

painted it in a great variety of shapes; but, since the creation of the world, there has not been so much as one who ever pretended to say, Here it is, I have it, and have attained the full possession of it. Even those from whom most was to be expected, men of the utmost penetration, and most properly qualified for such researches, after all their labour and industry, have acknowledged their disappointment, and that they had not found it. But it would be wonderful indeed, that there should be any good suited to human nature, and to which mankind were born, and yet that it never fell to the share of any one individual of the sons of men: unless it be said, that the things of life, in this respect, resemble the speculations of the schools; and that, as they talk about objects of knowledge that were never known, so there is some good attainable by men, which was never actually attained.

But to look a little more narrowly into this matter, and take a transient view of the several periods of life. Infants are so far from attaining to happiness, that they have not yet arrived at human life; yet, if they are compared with those of riper year, they are, in a low and improper sense, with regard to two things, innocence and ignorance, happier than men; for there is nothing that years add to infancy so invariably, and in so great abundance, as guilt and pollution; and the experience and knowledge of the world which they give us, do not so much improve the head, as they vex and distress the heart. So that the great man represented in the tragedy embracing his infant, who knew nothing of his own misery, seems to have had some reason to say, "That those who know nothing enjoy the happiest life*." And to be sure, what we gain by our progress from infancy to youth, is, that we thereby become more exposed to the miseries of life, and, as we improve in the knowledge of things, our pains and torments are also increased: for either children are put to servile employments, or mechanic arts: or if they happen to have a more genteel and liberal education,

* Το γνῶναι μηδέν εστιν ἥδιστος βιός;

this very thing turns to a punishment, as they are thereby subjected to rods, chastisements, and the power of parents and instructors, which is often a kind of petty tyranny; and, when the yoke is lightened with the greatest prudence, it still seems hard to be borne, as it is above the capacity of their young minds, thwarts their wishes and inclinations, and encroaches upon their beloved liberty.

Youth, put in full possession of this liberty, for the most part ceases to be master of itself; nor can it be so truly said to be delivered from its former misery, as to exchange it for a worse, even that very liberty. It leaves the harbour, to sail through quicksands and Syrens; and when both these are passed, launches out into the deep sea. Alas! to what various fates is it there exposed! How many contrary winds does it meet with! How many storms threatening it with shipwreck ! How many shocks has it to bear from avarice, ambition, and envy, either in consequence of the violent stirrings of those passions within itself, or the fierce attacks of them from without! And amidst all these tempests, the ship is either early overwhelmed, or broken by storms; and, worn out by old age, at last falls to pieces.

Nor does it much signify what state of life one enters into, or what rank he holds in human society; for all forms of business and conditions of life, however various you may suppose them to be, are exposed to a much greater variety of troubles and distresses, some to pressures more numerous and more grievous than others, but all to a great many, and every one to some peculiar to itself. If you devote yourself to ease and retirement, you cannot avoid the reproach and uneasiness that constantly attend an indolent, a useless, and lazy life. If you engage in business, whatever it be, whether you commence merchant, soldier, farmer, or lawyer, you always meet with toil and hazard, and often with heavy misfortunes and losses. Celibacy exposes to solitude; marriage, to solicitude and cares. Without learning, you appear plain and unpolished; but on the other hand, the study of letters is a matter of immense