The dangerous and deftructive confequences which are generally attendant on them.

If we could fet bounds to our appetites and paffions; if we could fay unto them, thus far fhall ye go and no further; we might then perhaps enjoy our pleasures without guilt, and reflect on them without vexation: but when we are wandered into the delightful labyrinth of error, we are loft in the agreeable maze of folly, and every step we take but involves us in more danger, and leaves us in more perplexity. The allurements of vice fteal infenfibly on our hearts, and lead us into the paths of fin and forrow. If our pleasures then can only be purchased at the dear expence of our innocence and virtue, will Reafon permit us to indulge in, will Religion warrant our purfuit of them?

The inevitable confequence of guilt we know is remorfe, forrow, and vexation; the wicked, as the prophet fays, are like the troubled fea when it cannot reft; there is no peace, faith my God, to the wicked. The worft of men may indeed find out methods of deceiving themfelves for a time, and lull their fenfes into a fhort and momentary tranquility. Mirth and gaiety may drown for a while the voice of confcience, but they will only make the return of it louder and more diffonant. Pleafure, that grand fpecific, is but a kind of opiate, which numbs the diftempered foul into a short flumber, and then awakes it to horror and to madnefs; to remove the caufe is far beyond the powers of medicines fo weak and infignificant. Nothing indeed can adminifter true and folid

fatisfaction

fatisfaction to a mind that is ftained with fin and blotted with corruption. The defpifer of God's laws, the contemner of his word, the avowed diffolute and abandoned man, cannot poffibly be happy.

But, to increase our forrows and enhance our misfortune, it will become us to recollect, that not only that pleafure which arifes from an indulgence in fenfual gratifications, which partake of guilt and folly; but even those which have the fanction of reafon to authorize, and the feal of innocence to protect them: even thofe also are chastised by danger, and em. bittered by disappointment. How often do our own truth and fincerity make us dupes to the artifice and diffimulation of others! and how often do we enter into the ftricteft friendships, the tendereft connections with fuch as miferably deceive and betray us? It is indeed the hard lot of mankind, that though the commiffion of evil is generally attended with pain and forrow, the avoidance of it is by no means certain to bring forth immediate joy or pleafure. Vice doth for the most part make us miferable, but it is not always in the power even of Virtue itself to make us happy.

But, thirdly and laftly, let us remember, That all the pleafures of human life are fhort, fleeting, and tranfitory.

Even if they could impart that true and folid happiness which it is not in their power to beftow, they would fcarce be worthy our acceptance, because the pain of quitting would

more

more than compenfate the fatisfaction of enjoyment.

In our earlier years, when almost any thing will ferve to amufe and divert, pleasure may trick herself for a time in borrowed charms, and allure the weak and thoughtless; but as we advance in the courfe, fhe generally lofes her dazzling luftre, and betrays her decaying beauty.

Happiness may indeed with propriety be compared to a bird of paffage, which vifits us for a little time in the spring of life; but when our winter approaches, is glad to leave the joyless defart, and wander forth in search of other fprings and a warmer climate.

Have we not feen whole families one day fmiling in the bofom of plenty and prosperity, funk down and oppreffed the next by fome unexpected froke, and weeping in bitterness and anguifh? Wealth in a moment changed to penury, health to ficknefs, and life to death?

Therefore, hear now this, as the prophet faith, -thou that dwelleft carelessly, thou that art given to pleasure, that fayeft in thine heart, I am, and none elfe befides me; I fhall not fit as a widow, neither fhall I know the loss of children; but these two things fhall come unto thee in a moment. In one day the lofs of children and widowhood, they fhall come upon thee.

Are we doomed to toil through the wearifome pilgrimage of this life, without the leaft remiffion from our cares, or the leaft refreshment on our journey! without one medicine to fotten the difeafe, or one cordial to fweeten the

the draught? Hath the hand of nature dif fused her fweets on every fide, and fhall not man be fuffered to gather them? Hath the God of nature formed us with appetites that are never to be indulged, and paffions which are never to be gratified? Is there, in fhort, no pleasure without vanity, no enjoyment without vexation?

This doubtlefs is an abftinence which the beneficent Author of our being doth not require; this is a facrifice, which a God of mercy cannot be well pleafed with: doubtlefs there are pleasures, even in this life, which we may enjoy without tranfgreffing his laws, or incurring his divine wrath.

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Many and delightful are thofe pleasures which have the fanction of reafon to authorize, and the feal of innocence to protect them; many are those which flow from the endearing ties and focial connections of human life. ture, ever liberal and bounteous to those who walk within her bounds, pours forth her flowers with a lavish hand; they fpring up on every fide of us, adorn and beautify every fhort season of our existence, and if properly cultivated and improved, may be gathered even in the winter of our days.

There is always left for us the exalted pleafure of acting up to the dignity of our nature, and the happiness which arifeth from the uniform and steady practice of religion and virtue : pleasures which can never be called vanity, and joys which are never attended by vexation; pleasures which are not palled by fatiety, and happiness that is not fubject to decay. B b

Mirth

Mirth indeed may boaft her charms, and Luxury may glory in her allurements; but there is no mirth like the cheerful ferenity of innocence, no luxury equal to the luxury of the benevolent heart, which overflows with generous fympathy, and pours itself forth in acts of mercy and beneficence. Virtue has a thoufand charms which the fenfualift hath never experienced, and a thousand beauties which he hath never contemplated; why then will the thoughtlefs libertine purfue the beaten road of folly and intemperance? why will he difguft himself with the repetition of the same taftelefs pleasures, whilft there are joys which he hath never felt to allure, whilft there are fenfations which he has never known to invite him; even fuch as his eye hath not feen, nor his ear heard; neither hath it entered into his heart to conceive them?

Laftly, my brethren, there is always left for us the fupreme pleafure of doing good, of leffening the calamities and removing the wants of our fellow-creatures.

To conclude:-Satisfied as we must be, that all human pleasures are ever vain, fruitless, and unworthy, that they are nothing, in short, but vanity, and vexation, let us quit them for fomething more durable and permanent.

God, of his infinite wifdom and goodness, hath purpofely made all the enjoyments of this life, infufficient, dangerous, fleeting and tranfitory, that man, finding by fatal experi ence that they are all unfatisfactory, might fix his heart where only true joys are to be found,