the instrument given us by God for the acquisition of the power; the means as well as the end are prescribed; nor can he expect the help of grace, or the divine approbation, who seeks them by any other method than that which infinite Wisdom has condescended to appoint.

17

SERMON XIV.

ISAIAH, CHAPTER XXVI. VERSE 3.

Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on thee, because he trusteth in thee.

In order to the explication of this text, or the enforcement of the precept implied in it, there seems to be no necessity, either of proving that all men are desirous of happiness, or that their desire, for the most part, fails of being gratified. Every man is conscious that he neither performs nor forbears any thing upon any other motive than the prospect either of an immediate gratification, or a distant reward; that whether he complies with temptation, or repels it, he is still influenced by the same general regard to his own felicity; but that, when he yields to the solicitation of his appetite, or the impulse of his passions, he is overborne by the prevalence of the object before him; and when he adheres to his duty, in opposition to his present interest, he is influenced by the hopes of future happiness.

That almost every man is disappointed in his search after happiness, is apparent, from the clamorous complaints which are always to be heard, from the restless discontent which is hourly to be observed, and from the incessant pursuit of new objects, which employ almost every moment of every man's life: for a desire of change is a suffi

cient proof that we are dissatisfied with our present state, and evidently shows that we feel some pain which we desire to avoid, or miss some enjoyment which we wish to possess.

The true cause of this general disgust an unprejudiced and attentive survey of the world will not long fail of discovering: it will easily appear, that men fail to gain what they so much desire, because they seek it where it is not to be found; because they suffer themselves to be dazzled by specious appearances, resign themselves up to the direction of their passions, and when one pursuit has failed of affording them that satisfaction which they expected from it, apply themselves with the same ardour to another equally unprofitable, and waste their lives in successive delusions, in idle schemes of imaginary enjoyment, in the chase of shadows which fleet before them, and in attempts to grasp a bubble, which, however it may attract the eye by the brightness of its colour, is neither solid nor lasting, but owes its beauty only to its distance, and is no sooner touched than it disappears.

As men differ in age or disposition, they are exposed to different delusions in this important inquiry. The young and the gay imagine happiness to consist in show, in merriment and noise, or in a constant succession of amusements, or in the gratification of their appetites, and the frequent repetition of sensual pleasures. Instead of founding happiness on the solid basis of reason and reflection, they raise an airy fabric of momentary satisfaction, which is perpetually decaying, and perpetually to be repaired. They please themselves,

not with thinking justly, but with avoiding to think at all; with a suspense of all the operations of their intellectual faculties, which defends them from remembrance of the past or anticipation of the future they lull themselves in an enervate and cowardly dissipation, and, instead of being happy, are only indolent.

That this state is not a state of happiness, that it affords no real satisfaction to a reasonable mind, those who appear most engaged in it will, in their calmest moments, readily confess. Those among them on whom Providence has bestowed such abilities as are necessary to the discovery of truth, and the distinction of appearance from reality (for, among the negligent and voluptuous, men of this character are sometimes to be found), have always owned, that their felicity is like that of a deep sleep, from which they wake to care and sorrow; or of a pleasing dream, that affords them short gratifications, of which the day deprives them; and that their pleasures only differ from the phantoms of the night in this, that they leave behind them the pangs of guilt, with the vexation of disappointment.

It may be imagined, that reasonable beings must quickly discover how little such satisfactions are adapted to their nature, and how necessary it is to change their measures, in order to the attainment of that happiness which they desire; and, in effect, it is generally found that few, except the young and inexperienced, content themselves with sensual gratifications; and that men, as they advance in years, and improve their judgment by observation, always confess, by the alteration of their conduct, that mere voluptuousness is not sufficient to fill the

desires of the human mind. They, therefore, shake off the lethargy of sloth, forsake diversion and amusements, and engage in the pursuits of riches or of honours: they employ those hours, which were frequently suffered to pass away unnumbered and unheeded, with the most solicitous application, and the most vigilant attention: they are no longer negligent of all that passes about them, no more careless of the opinions of mankind, or unconcerned with regard to censure or applause : they become anxious, lest any opportunity should be lost of improving their fortunes, and lest they should give any occasion to reports which may injure their reputation and obstruct their advancement: they constrain their words, their actions, and their looks, to obtain popularity; because they consider popularity as necessary to grandeur, and grandeur as the foundation of happiness.

But a very short experience teaches, what might, indeed, have been without the trial discovered by reflection, that perfect peace, that peace which is so much desired, is not to be found in wealth and greatness. He that succeeds in his first attempts is animated to new designs; new designs produce new anxieties and new opposition; and, though the second attempt should be equally happy, it will be found, as soon as the transports of novelty have ceased, as soon as custom has made elevation familiar, that peace is yet to be sought, and that new measures must be taken for the attainment of that tranquillity, for which it is the nature of man to languish, and the want of which is ill supplied by hurry and confusion, by pomp and variety.

The same disposition which inclines any man