nant people, afterward, without the gates of the city, rend the air with the cry of "crucify him, crucify him;"* and imprecate the curse of his blood upon themselves and their children! My brethren, let such views of human glory mortify our desires after it, and engage us in the pursuit of that glory which is spiritual and eternal; that glory which is the meed of holiness and the offspring of grace.

The pleasures of this world form another object of human pursuit. The pleasures of this world are also vanity. "I said in my hea t, go to now, I will prove thee with mirth, therefore enjoy pleasure; and behold, this also is vanity. I said of laughter, it is mad; and of mirth, what doth it?"+ "There is a laughter in the midst of which the heart is sorrowful. The end of such mirth is heaviness."‡ The more tumultuous our pleasures, the more indistinct and imperfect; the more intense, the shorter their duration. Do the nightly revels of the voluptuary leave him that placid content which is essential to true enjoyment? Whence, then, that haggard visage? Why that contracted brow? I have tried," says the voluptuary, "all the delights of the sons of men. Every wish has been consulted. Every joy that crossed my path I have detained for myself. I have culled the sweetest flowrets of spring to weave a chaplet for my head. I have got me men-singers and women-singers. I have spent the day in planning schemes of enjoyment and the night in executing them. I have thrown the reins upon the neck of my lusts, and given scope to my loose desires. But a disordered frame and a sick heart tell me it is all vanity and vexation of spirit. I have found that "there is a way which seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death."§ I have found that "wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging; it giveth its colour in the cup; but at the last it biteth like a serpent and stingeth like an adder." I have found that "the house of the strange woman inclineth unto death; her feet go down

* John, xix. 6. † Eccles. ii. 1. 2. Prov. xiv. 13. § Prov. xiv. 12. Prov. xx. 1. xxiii. 31. 32.

to the grave; her steps take hold on hell,"* Yes; pleasure is vanity: the pursuit of it vanity, and I, who have engaged so eagerly in the pursuit, the greatest of all vanities." And allowing that a diseased body and an impaired mind should not be the consequences of his criminal indulgence; yet even in this case his palted appetites would lead him to the same conclusion. Happiness consists not in the gratification of animal passion, however lawful and moderate. The joy of a moment, however intense, is not happiness, Let this joy pass, and what will it leave us? Its image on the mind. But will the image of what passed in the gay and festive hour delight as did the present reality? Memory, it is true, dwells often upon departed pleasures. We derive satisfaction from retracing the scenes of former joys; but it is a satisfaction mingled with much alloy of melancholy. I speak of gratifications which may be repeated. But there are many which having once tasted, we never taste again; many which disappear to return no more. Of these how painful the remembrance!

Even the more exalted pleasures of friendship and affection are not exempt from the general charge of vanity. Suspicions and jealousies interrupt the closest alliances. Frequently, where you expect integrity, you find deceit, and court the sting of a serpent. The best of them is as a brier," says the prophet Micah, "the most upright is sharper than a thorn hedge: trust ye not in a friend, put ye not confidence in a guide; keep the doors of thy mouth from her that lieth in thy bosom." Sincere love is often its own tormentor. Kindness wounds itself; and affection proves the source of misery. Friends must be separated; if not by the duties and avocations of life, yet assuredly by that power who triumphs over the fondest and the proudest hopes of worldly happiness. How often must the tear fall on the urn of friendship? How often must the heart bleed at the stroke of death? How often must tenderness feel the shock of separation? Ah! Micah, vii. 4. 5.

Prov. ii. 18. v. 5.

it is not in the parting moment only; but as often as memory recalls the image of what it once held most dear on earth.

Such, my brethren, are this world's joys. Favour is deceitful; affection short-lived; sensual pleasure destructive; and "all is vanity." Let us, then, direct our views to higher sources of happiness. Let us pray to God that he may give us to partake of that fulness of joy which his presence inspires; and to bathe in that river of pleasures which flows with a pure, a perpetual, and an equal current, at his right hand. Let us seek to be united to his Son by a vital faith. Christ is a friend in need--our own friend-and our father's friend-a friend who will cleave closer than a brother; whose friendship will be more watchful than a father's care, and softer than a mother's love. Death, that cuts all other ties, shall not divide us from HIM, whose alliance with his redeemed shall be eternal as himself.

Once more:-The wisdom of this world is vanity; its policy; its arts; its learning. "I gave my heart to seek and search out by wisdom, concerning all things that are done under Heaven: I have seen all the works that are under the sun: and behold, all is vanity and vexation of spirit."* "And I gave my heart to know wisdom; I perceived that this also is vexation of spirit: for in much wisdom is much grief; and he that in creaseth knowledge, increaseth sorrow." The mind of man, like his body, is susceptible of satiety in its pursuits; a satiety caused, perhaps, by the connexion of soul and body. "Much study is a weariness of the flesh;" and when the flesh is weary, the spirit will lose its ardour. All mental pursuits, therefore, which terminate in any object short of God, from the very constitution of our nature, must be vain. Equally vain, however, are their objects.

Is it the policy of this world which invites the eagerness of pursuit? What is this policy? A system of deception, contemptible in its nature, and, God be thanked, very generally frustrated in its ends. Is it the knowledge of the world, as it is termed, that tempts our acquisition? Alas!

* Eccles. i. 13. 14. † Eccles. i. 17. 18.

Eccles. xii. 12.

how dearly is this knowledge purchased! How often at the expense of health--innocence--peace--the immortal soul itself!

Shall we apply to history to make us acquainted with the ages that are gone? But many things recorded in history are unworthy of credit; many others are of dubious authority; and, of those entitled to our belief and dependence, few are calculated to produce that satisfaction which we are wont to connect with the pursuit of knowledge. Benevolence is called at every page to weep over the miseries of man. The heart sickens at the tale of cities sacked-empires overthrown-rapes-assassinations---tyranny-rebellioncrooked politicks-and bloody violence. If some fair spot appears amidst the general waste, even there we cannot repose ourselves with unmingled pleasure. There is in man a disposition to magnify past times at the expense of the present. The excellencies of our own age shine with a lustre almost extinct amidst the blaze of recorded glory. We are prone to fear that virtue died with our forefathers, and lament that their children inherit only their vices. This contrast of past excellence with present inferiority, how little soever it may be warranted by fact in the degree to which it is extended, affects the mind with melancholy impressions. This also is vanity. "He that increaseth knowledge, increaseth sorrow."*

Nor do the pretensions of philosophy merit more respect. Observe her motley children. Their bosoms swell with pride, or rankle with envy, as their tenets are admired, or discarded for others more acceptable. Their systems fluctuate with every wind of opinion. The fashionable philosophy of to-day will be in dispute to-morrow. "Self is the spring of human actions;" says one, "all our affections and passions are but different modifications of self-love." This fashion obtains, until another philosopher arises and teaches a doctrine which absorbs self in the overwhelming ocean of

* Eccles. i. 18.

universal benevolence.

We have no concern in our own

conduct, believe this sage, unless it may be incidentally. Our finite minds must grasp the universe of being before their actions or volitions can be determined. Men, tired of old vanities, are ever ready to embrace new ones. This opinion wears the charm of variety. It dureth, therefore, for a while. But, by and by, the novelty ceases, and time. banishes the system, with its author, into the regions of absurdity. Thus it fares with the wisdom of this world; it is foolishness; it is vanity.

ness.

Seek her not in the

True wisdom is Heaven-descended. schools; she dwells not there. Seek her not in the world; she has no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkGo to the hallowed retreats of inspiration, and seek her amidst prophets and apostles at the feet of Jesus. Let us pray to God that he may make Christ our wisdom; so shall we possess the wisdom that cometh down from above; the wisdom "which is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to be entreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality, and without hypocrisy.”*

This wisdom is, indeed, no vanity; no unreal mockery. It is all substance. It is productive of lasting profit and unmingled bliss. Its dominion is an endless dominion, independent on time, or chance, or the fluctuations of caprice. Its throne rests on the moveless base of everlasting truth. Now to GOD, only wise, be glory in the church, by Christ Jesus throughout all ages.-AMEN.

* James, iii. 17.