DISCOURSE III. St. JOHN, CHAP. vi. VER. 66, 67, 68. "FROM THAT TIME, MANY OF HIS "DISCIPLES WENT BACK, AND 66 WALKED NO MORE WITH HIM. "THEN SAID JESUS UNTO THE "TWELVE, WILL YE ALSO GO AWAY? THEN SIMON PETER ANSWERED HIM, LORD! TO WHOM 66 SHALL WE GO? THOU HAST THE "WORDS OF ETERNAL LIFE. H APPINESS is the great end and aim of all thofe reftlefs purfuits in which mankind are perpetually engaged. The laborious peafant, and the contemplative philofopher; the man that wisheth for wealth, and the man that that poffeffeth it; the gay votary of worldly pleasure, and the gloomy tenant of the folitary cell, are alike industrious in exploring this hidden treasure. Their imaginations are ever upon the stretch after this something yet unknown. Their ideas of happiness indeed, as well as the means which they make use of to attain it, are as different as their prevailing tempers and inclinations. Whatever objects coincide with their present conceptions, those they efteem, and those they pursue, with all the eagerness of newly awakened defire. Deluded, however, by fpecious appearances, mistaken again and again in their choice of objects, loathing to-day what they pursued yesterday with ardour, chearful and confident in profpect, disappointed and melancholy in poffeffion, they fondly rove from one scene of imaginary bliss to another, unable to rest on any with permanent satisfaction. They never once confider, that no finite objects can fill up the immense void of an immortal foul, no temporal enjoyments fatisfy its boundless defires ; and that nothing less than "life eternal" can afford an happiness commensurate to its eternal nature. This is not mere theory or empty speculation. There is not one in this affembly, but could bear witness from experience to the melancholy fact. Was each of us to be afked, in a ferious and folemn manner, Are you really happy? very few, I am afraid, if they would speak ingenuously, could answer in the affirmative. And yet, perhaps, most of us have attained, from time to time, what we once deemed the height of our wishes; and what we were then fure, if attained, would make us completely happy. The child wishes for the employments and pleasures of youth; the youth longs to arrive at what he calls the freedom and independence of manhood; the man anxioufly ously schemes and plots, and contrives, and labours and toils, and then wishes to fee the fuccefs of his schemes, the accomplishment of his labours. His schemes turn out to his fatisfaction; the end is obtained; the object is enjoyed: his blifs is confummate, to be fure; he cannot be happier-No fuch thing-New wants fucceed; new schemes are formed; new pursuits, new labours, new anxieties and wishes, tread close upon each other's heels. But where is his happiness all the while ? Why he loses fight, at last, of the grand and principal object, in the pursuit of which he had set out: failing of success in this, he foolishly adopts the means for the end; and perpetual care, toil, and vexation, are the wretched effects of his miftaken choice. Thus, for inftance, the covetous man grafps, and faves, and fills his coffersfor what? Not to make himself, his family, or his poor neighbours round him, happy with the fruits of his penurious efforts. |