but meeting with it no where. This at least is beyond all doubt, and indisputable, that all men, wish well to themselves, nay, that they all catch at, and desire to attain the enjoyment of the most absolute and perfect good: even the worst of men have not lost this regard for themselves, nor can they possibly divest themselves of it. And though, alas! it is but too true, that, as we are naturally blind, we run ourselves upon misery under the disguise of happiness, and not only embrace, according to the common saying, "a cloud instead of Juno," but death itself instead of life; yet, even from this most fatal error, it is evident that we naturally pursue either real happiness, or what, to our mistaken judgment, appears to be such. Nor can the mind of man divest itself of this propension, without divesting itself of its being. This is what the schoolmen mean, when, in their manner of expression, they say, "That the will is carried towards happiness, not simply as will, but as nature t."

It is true, indeed, the generality of mankind are not well acquainted with the motions of their own minds, nor at pains to observe them, but, like brutes, by a kind of secret impulse, are violently carried towards such enjoyments as fall in their way they do but very little, or not at all, enter into themselves, and review the state and operations of their own minds; yet in all their actions,

* Nubem pro Junone.

+ In beatitudinem fertur voluntas, non ut voluntas, sed ut na

tura.

all their wishes and desires (though they are not always aware of it themselves) this thirst after immortality exerts and discovers itself. Consider the busy part of mankind, hurrying to and fro in the exercise of their several professions, physicians, lawyers, merchants, mechanics, farmers, and even soldiers themselves; they all toil and labour, in order to obtain rest, if success attend their endeavours, and any fortunate event answer their expectations. Encouraged by these fond hopes, they eat their bread with the sweat of their brow: but their toil, after all, is endless, constantly returning in a circle; and the days of men pass away in suffering real evils, and entertaining fand hopes of apparent good, which they seldom or never attain: "Every man walks in a vain shew; he torments himself in vain *." He pursues rest and ease, like his shadow, and never overtakes them; but, for the most part, ceases to live before he begins to live to purpose. However, after all this confused and fluctuating appetite, which determines us to the pursuit of good, either real or apparent, as it is congenial with us, and deeply rooted in the human heart, so it is the great handle, by which divine grace lays hold, as it were, upon our nature, draws us to itself, and extricates us out of the profound abyss of misery, into which we are fallen.

From this it evidently follows, that the design of sacred Theology is the very same with that of human nature, and "he that rejects it hates his own * Psal. xxxix. 6.

soul," for so the wise King of Israel emphatically expresses it. He is the most irreconcileable enemy to his own happiness, and absolutely at variance with himself; according to that of St. Bernard, "After I was set in opposition to thee, I became also contrary to myself."

These considerations have determined me to begin these instructions, such as they are, which, with divine assistance, I intend to give you concerning the principles of the Christian religion, with a short disquisition concerning the chief or ultimate end of

man.

And here it is to be, first of all, observed, that the transcendent and supreme end of all is the glory of God; all things returning, in a most beautiful circle, to this, as the original source from which they at first took their rise; but the end of true religion, as far as it regards us, which is immediately connected with the former, and serves, in a most glorious manner to promote it, is the salvation and happiness of mankind.

Though I should not tell you, what is to be understood by the term happiness or felicity in general, I cannot imagine any of you would be at a loss about it. Yet I shall give a brief explication of it, that you may have the more distinct ideas of the thing itself, and the juster notions of what is to be further advanced on the subject. Nor is there, indeed, any controversy on this head; for all are agreed, that by the terms commonly used in He

*Postquam posuisti me contrarium tibi, factus sum contrarius

mihi.

brew, Greek, and Latin* to express happiness or felicity, we are to understand that perfect and complete good, which is suited and adapted to intelligent nature: I say, to intelligent nature, because the brute creatures cannot be said to be happy, but in a very improper sense. Happiness Happiness cannot be ascribed to horses or oxen, let them be ever so well fed, and left in the full possession of liberty and ease. And as good in general is peculiar to intelligent beings: so, more especially, that perfect good, which constitutes felicity in its full and most extensive acceptation. It is true, indeed, in common conversation, men are very prodigal of this term, and, with extravagant levity, misapply it to every common enjoyment of life, or apparent good they meet with, especially such as is most suited to their present exigencies; and thus, as Aristotle, in his Ethics, expresses it, "The sick person considers health, and the poor man riches, as the chief good t." It is also true, that learned men, and even the sacred Scriptures, give the name of felicity to some symptoms, and small beginnings of future happiness; but, as we have already observed, this term, in its true and complete sense, comprehends in it that absolute and full perfection of good, which entirely excludes all uneasiness, and brings with it every thing that can contribute to satisfaction and delight. Consequently that good

*Asheri in Hebrew, panagious & evdamovía in Greek felicitas et beatitudo in Latin.

† ονοσήσης, υγιείαν, ὁ πενόμενα πλετον.

LECT. II.

whatever it be, that most perfectly supplies all the wants, and satisfies all the cravings of our rational appetites, is objective felicity, as the schools express it; and actual, or formal felicity, is the full possession and enjoyment of that complete and chief good. It consists in a perfect tranquillity of the mind, and not a dull and stupid indolence, like the calm that reigns in the dead sea; but such a peace of mind as is lively, active, and constantly attended with the purest joy: not a mere absence of uneasiness and pain; but such a perfect ease as is constantly accompanied with the most perfect satisfaction, and supreme delight: and, if the term had not been degraded by the mean uses to which it has been prostituted, I should not scruple to call it pleasure*. And, indeed, we may still call it by this name, provided we purify the term, and guard it by the following limitations; so as to understand by felicity, such a pleasure as is perfect, constant, pure, spiritual, and divine: for never, since I ventured to think upon such subjects, could I be satisfied with the opinion of Aristotle, and the schoolmen, who distinguish between the fruition of the chief good, which constitutes true felicity, and the delight and satisfaction attending that fruition; because, at this rate, that good would not be the ultimate end and completion of our desires, nor desired on its own account; for whatever good we wish to possess, the end of our wishing is, that we may enjoy it with tranquillity and delight: and this uninterrupted * Η ευδαιμονία ηδονή ἀμεταβλητός.