nour;-lays before his eyes all the charms and bewitching temptations of power, and asks if there can be any happiness in this world like that of being caressed, courted, flattered, and followed?

To close all,-the philosopher meets him bustling in the full career of this pursuit,-stops him,―tells him, if he is in search of happiness, he is far gone out of his way;-that this deity has long been banished from noise and tumults, where there was no rest found for her, and was fled into solitude far from all commerce of the world; and, in a word, if he would find her, he must leave this busy and intriguing scene, and go back to that peaceful scene of retirement and books, from which he at first set out.

In this circle too often does man run, tries all experiments, and generally sits down weary and dissatisfied with them all at last,-in utter despair of ever accomplishing what he wants,-nor knowing what to trust to after so many disappointments,or where to lay the fault, whether in the incapacity of his own nature, or the insufficiency of the enjoyments themselves.

In this uncertain and perplex'd state,-without knowledge which way to turn or where to betake ourselves for refuge,-so often abused and deceived by the many who pretend thus to show us any good,-Lord! says the Psalmist, lift up the light of thy countenance upon us! Send us some rays of thy grace and heavenly wisdom, in this benighted search after happiness, to direct us safely to it! O God! let us not wander for ever without a guide, in this dark region, in endless pursuit of our mistaken good, but enlighten our eyes that we sleep not in death;open to them the comforts of thy holy word and religion:-lift up the light of thy countenance upon us,—and make us know the joy and satisfaction of living in the true faith and fear of thee, which only

can carry us to this haven of rest where we would be, that sure haven, where true joys are to be found, which will at length not only answer all our expectations, but satisfy the most unbounded of our wishes for ever and ever.

The words thus opened naturally reduce the remaining part of the discourse under two heads,— The first part of the verse,-" There be many that say, Who will show us any good?"-To make some reflections upon the insufficiency of most of our enjoyments towards the attainment of happiness, upon some of the most received plans on which 'tis generally sought.

The examination of which will lead us up to the source and true secret of all happiness, suggested to us in the latter part of the verse:- "Lord! lift thou up the light of thy countenance upon us,"that there can be no real happiness without religion and virtue, and the assistance of God's grace and Holy Spirit to direct our lives in the true pursuit of it.

Let us inquire into the disappointments of human happiness, on some of the most received plans on which 'tis generally sought for and expected by the bulk of mankind.

There is hardly any subject more exhausted, or which, at one time or other, has afforded more matter for argument and declamation than this one, of the insufficiency of our enjoyments. Scarce a reformed sensualist, from Solomon down to our own days, who has not in some fits of repentance or disappointment uttered some sharp reflection upon the emptiness of human pleasure, and of the vanity of vanities which discovers itself in all the pursuits of mortal man. But the mischief has been, that though so many good things have been said, they have generally had the fate to be considered either as the overflowings of disgust from sated appetites, which

could no longer relish the pleasures of life; or, as the declamatory opinions of recluse and splenetic men, who had never tasted them at all, and, consequently, were thought no judges of the matter. So that 'tis no great wonder, if the greatest part of such reflections, however just in themselves and founded on truth and a knowledge of the world, are found to leave little impression where the imagination was already heated with great expectations of future happiness; and that the best lectures that have been read upon the vanity of the world so seldom stop a man in the pursuit of the object of his desire, or give him half the conviction that the possession of it will, and what the experience of his own life, or a careful observation upon the life of others, do at length generally confirm to us all.

Let us endeavour then to try the cause upon this issue; and, instead of recurring to the common arguments, or taking any one's word in the case, let us trust to matter of fact; and if, upon inquiry, it appears that the actions of mankind are not to be accounted for upon any other principle but this of the insufficiency of our enjoyments, 'twill go further towards the establishment of the truth of this part of the discourse, than a thousand speculative arguments which might be offered upon the occasion.

Now, if we take a survey of the life of man from the time he is come to reason, to the latest decline of it in old age,-we shall find him engaged, and generally hurried on in such a succession of different pursuits, and different opinions of things, through the different stages of his life,- -as will admit of no explication but this,-That he finds no rest for the sole of his foot, on any of the plans where he has been led to expect it.

The moment he is got loose from tutors and governors, and is left to judge for himself, and pursue this scheme his own way,-his first thoughts are

generally full of the mighty happiness which he is going to enter upon, from the free enjoyment of the pleasures in which he sees others of his age and fortune engaged.

In consequence of this,-take notice how his imagination is caught by every glittering appearance that flatters this expectation.-Observe what impressions are made upon his senses by diversions, music, dress, and beauty,-and how his spirits are upon the wing, flying in pursuit of them, that you would think he could never have enough.

Leave him to himself a few years, till the edge of appetite is worn down,-and you will scarce know him again. You will find him entered into engagements, and setting up for a man of business and conduct, talking of no other happiness but what centres in projects of making the most of this world, and providing for his children and children's children after them. Examine his notions, he will tell you, that the gayer pleasures of youth are only fit for those who know not how to dispose of themselves and time to better advantage. That however fair and promising they might appear to a man unpractised in them, they were no better than a life of folly and impertinence; and, so far from answering your expectations of happiness, 'twas well if you escaped without pain. That, in every experiment he had tried he had found more bitter than sweet; and, for the little pleasure one could snatch,—it too often left a terrible sting behind it: besides, did the balance lie on the other side, he would tell you there could be no true satisfaction where a life runs on in so giddy a circle, out of which a wise man should extricate himself as soon as he can, that he may begin to look forwards:—that it becomes a man of character and consequence to lay aside childish things, to take care of his interests, to establish the fortune of his family, and place it out of want and

dependence: and, in a word, if there is such a thing as happiness upon earth, it must consist in the accomplishment of this;-and, for his own part, if God should prosper his endeavours so as to be worth such a sum, or to be able to bring such a point to bear, he shall be one of the happiest of the sons of men.-In full assurance of this, on he drudges, plots, contrives, rises early, - late takes rest, and eats the bread of carefulness, till, length, by hard labour and perseverance, he has reached, if not outgone, the object he had first in view. When he has got thus far,-if he is a plain and sincere man, he will make no scruple to acknowledge truly what alteration he has found in himself.

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-If you ask him, he will tell you that his imagination painted something before his eyes, the reality of which he has not yet attained to: that, with all the accumulation of his wealth, he neither lives the merrier, sleeps the sounder, or has less care and anxiety upon his spirits than at his first setting out.

Perhaps, you'll say, some dignity, honour, or title, only is wanting:-Oh! could I accomplish that, as there would be nothing left then for me to wish, good God! how happy should I be! 'Tis still the same; the dignity or title,-though they crown his head with honour,-add not one cubit to his happiness. Upon summing up the account, all is found to be seated merely in the imagination.-The faster he has pursued, the faster the phantom flies before him ;-and, to use the satirist's comparison of the chariot-wheels,-haste as they will, they must for ever keep the same distance.

But what? though I have been thus far disappointed in my expectations of happiness from the possession of riches,--" Let me try whether I shall not meet with it in the spending and fashionable enjoyment of them."

Behold! I will get me down, and make me great