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SERMON XH.

ECCLESIASTES, CHAP. I. VERSE 14.

I have seen all the works that are done under the sun; and behold, all is vanity and vexation of spirit.

THAT all human actions terminate in vanity, and all human hopes will end in vexation, is a position from which nature withholds our credulity, and which our fondness for the present life and worldly enjoyments disposes us to doubt, however forcibly it may be urged upon us by reason or experience.

Every man will readily enough confess, that his own condition discontents him, and that he has not yet been able, with all his labour, to make happiness, or, with all his inquiries, to find it. But he still thinks, it is somewhere to be found, or by some means to be procured. His envy sometimes persuades him to imagine that others possess it; and his ambition points the way, by which he supposes that he shall reach, at last, the station to which it is annexed. Every one wants something to happiness; and, when he has gained what he first wanted, he wants something else; he wears out life in efforts and pursuits, and, perhaps, dies, regretting that he must leave the world, when he is about to enjoy it.

So great is our interest, or so great we think it, to believe ourselves able to procure our own hap

piness, that experience never convinces us of our impotence; and, indeed, our miscarriages might be reasonably enough imputed by us to our own unskilfulness or ignorance, if we were able to derive intelligence from no experience but our own. But surely we may be content to credit the general voice of mankind, complaining incessantly of general infelicity; and when we see the restlessness of the young, and the peevishness of the old; when we find the daring and the active combating misery, and the calm and humble lamenting it; when the vigorous are exhausting themselves in struggles with their own condition, and the old and the wise retiring from the contest in weariness and despondency; we may be content at last to conclude, that if happiness had been to be found, some would have found it, and that it is vain to search longer for what all have missed.

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But though our obstinacy should hold out against common experience and common authority, it might, at least, give way to the declaration of Solomon, who has left this testimony to succeeding ages; that all human pursuits and labours are vanity. From the like conclusion, made by other men, we may escape, by considering that their experience was small, and their power narrow; that they pronounced with confidence upon that which they could not know; and that many pleasures might be above their reach, and many more beyond their observation: they may be considered as uttering the dictates of discontent, rather than persuasion; and as speaking, not so much of the Igeneral state of things, as of their own share, and their own situation.

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But the character of Solomon leaves no room for subterfuge; he did not judge of what he did not know. He had in his possession whatever power and riches, and, what is still more, whatever wisdom and knowledge could confer. As he understood the vegetable creation, from the cedar of Libanus to the hyssop on the wall, so there is no doubt but he had taken a survey of all the gradations of human life, from the throne of the prince to the shepherd's cottage. He had in his hand all the instruments of happiness, and in his mind the skill to apply them. Every power of delight which others possessed, he had authority to summon or wealth to purchase; all that royal prosperity could supply, was accumulated upon him; at home he had peace, and in foreign countries he had honour; what every nation could supply, was poured down before him. If power be grateful, he was a king; if there be pleasure in knowledge, he was the wisest of mankind : if wealth can purchase happiness, he had so much gold that silver was little regarded. Over all these advantages presided a mind in the highest degree disposed to magnificence and voluptuousness, so eager in pursuit of gratification, that, alas! after every other price had been bid for happiness, religion and virtue were brought to the sale. But, after the anxiety of his inquiries, the weariness of his labours, and the loss of his innocence, he obtained only this conclusion: "I have seen all the works that are done under the sun, and behold, all is vanity and vexation of spirit."

That this result of Solomon's experience, thus solemnly bequeathed by him to all generations,

may not be transmitted to us without its proper use, let us diligently consider,

First, In what sense we are to understand that

all is vanity.

Secondly, How far the conviction, that all is vanity, ought to influence the conduct of life.

Thirdly, What consequences the serious and religious mind may deduce from the position, that all is vanity.

When we examine, first, in what sense we are to understand that all is vanity, we must remember, that the preacher is not speaking of religious practices, or of any actions immediately commanded by God, or directly referred to him; but of such employments as we pursue by choice, and such works as we perform in hopes of a recompense in the present life; such as flatter the imagination with pleasing scenes, and probable increase of temporal felicity; of this he determines that all is vanity, and every hour confirms his determination.

The event of all human endeavours is uncertain. He that plants may gather no fruit; he that sows may reap no harvest. Even the most simple operations are liable to miscarriage, from causes which we cannot foresee; and, if we could foresee them, cannot prevent, What can be more vain than the confidence of man, when the annual provision made for the support of life is not only exposed to the uncertainty of weather, and the variation of the sky, but lies at the mercy of the reptiles of the earth or the insects of the air? The rain and the wind he cannot command; the cater

pillar he cannot destroy, and the locust he cannot drive away.

But these effects, which require only the concurrence of natural causes, though they depend little upon human power, are yet made by Providence regular and certain, in comparison with those extensive and complicated undertakings which must be brought to pass by the agency of man, and which require the union of many understandings, and the cooperations of many hands. The history of mankind is little else than a narrative of designs which have failed, and hopes that have been disappointed. In all matters of emulation and contest, the success of one implies the defeat of another, and at least half the transaction terminates in misery: and, in designs not directly contrary to the interest of another, and therefore not opposed either by artifice or violence, it frequently happens that, by negligence or mistake or unseasonable officiousness, a very hopeful project is brought to nothing.

To find examples of disappointment and uncertainty, we need not raise our thoughts to the interests of nations, nor follow the warrior to the field, or the statesman to the council. The little transactions of private families are entangled with perplexities; and the hourly occurrences of com mon life are filling the world with discontent and complaint. Every man hopes for kindness from his friends, diligence from his servants, and obedience from his children; yet friends are often unfaithful, servants negligent, and children rebellious. Human wisdom has, indeed, exhausted its power in giving rules for the conduct of life;