of charity and good-nature; and not in that dark and fullen fhade which jealoufy and party-fpirit throw over all characters.

BLAIR.

SECTION XVIII.

On the Imperfection of that Happiness which refts folely on worldly Pleafures.

THE vanity of human pleasures is a topic which might be embellished with the pomp of much description. But I fhall ftudiously avoid exaggeration, and only point out a threefold vanity in human life, which every impartial obferver cannot but admit; difappointment in purfuit, difsatisfaction in enjoyment, uncertainty in possession.

Firft, difappointment in purfuit. When we look around us on the world, we every where behold a busy multitude, intent on the prosecution of various defigns, which their wants or defires have fuggested. We behold them employing every method which ingenuity can devife; fome the patience of industry, fome the boldnefs of enterprize, others the dexterity of ftratagem, in order to compass their ends. Of this incessant stir and activity, what is the fruit? In comparison of the crowd who have toiled in vain, how fmall is the number of the fuccessful? Or rather, where is the man who will declare, that in every point he has completed his plan, and attained his utmost wish? No extent of human abilities has been able to discover a path which, in any line of life, leads unerringly to fuccefs. "The race is not always to the swift, nor the

battle to the strong, nor riches to men of understanding. We may form our plans with the moft profound fagacity, and with the moft vigilant caution may guard against dangers on every fide. But fome unforefeen occurrence comes across, which baffles our wisdom, and lays our labours in the dust.

Were fuch disappointments confined to those who afpire at engrossing the higher departments of life, the misfortune would be lefs. The humiliation of the

mighty, and the fall of ambition from its towering height, little concern the bulk of mankind. These are objects on which, as on distant meteors, they gaze from afar, without drawing perfonal inftruction from events fo much above them. But, alas! when we defcend into the regions of private life, we find difappointment and blafted hope equally prevalent there. Neither the moderation of our views, nor the justice of our pretenfions, can enfure fuccefs. But time and chance happen to all." Against the stream of events, both the worthy and the undeferving are obliged to ftruggle; and both are frequently overborn alike by

the current.

Befides difappointment in purfuit, difsatisfaction in enjoyment is a farther vanity, to which the human state is fubject. This is the feverest of all mortifications, after having been fuccessful in the purfuit, to be baffled in the enjoyment itself. Yet this is found to be an evil ftill more general than the former. Some may be fo fortunate as to attain what they have purfued; but none are rendered completely happy by what they have attained. Difappointed hope is mifery; and yet fuccessful hope is only imperfect blifs. Look through all the ranks of mankind. Examine the

condition of those who appear moft profperous; and you will find that they are never juft what they defire to be. If retired, they languish for action; if busy, they complain of fatigue. If in middle life, they are impatient for diftinction; if in high ftations, they figh after freedom and eafe. Something is ftill wanting to that plenitude of fatisfaction, which they expected to acquire. Together with every wish that is gratified, a new demand arifes. One void opens in the heart, as another is filled. On wifhes, wifhes grow; and to the end, it is rather the expectation of what they have not, than the enjoyment of what they have, which occupies and interefts the most fuccefsful.

This dissatisfaction in the midst of human pleasure, fprings partly from the nature of our enjoyments themfelves, and partly from circumftances which corrupt them. No worldly enjoyments are adequate to the high defires and powers of an immortal spirit. Fancy paints them at a diftance with fplendid colours; but pofsefsion unveils the fallacy. The eagernefs of paffion beflows upon them, at first, a brisk and lively relish. But it is their fate always to pall by familiarity, and fometimes to pass from fatiety into disgust. Happy would the poor man think himself, if he could enter on all the treasures of the rich; and happy for a short time he might be: but before he had long contemplated and admired his ftate, his pofsefsions would feem to lefsen, and his cares would grow.

Add to the unfatisfying nature of our pleafures, the attending circumstances which never fail to corrupt them. For, fuch as they are, they are at no time pofsefsed unmixed. To human lips it is not given to taste the cup of pure joy. When external circum

ftances fhow faireft to the world, the envied man groans in private under his own burden. Some vexa. tion difquiets, fome pafsion corrodes him; fome distress, either felt or feared, gnaws, like a worm, the root of his felicity. When there is nothing from without to difturb the profperous, a fecret poifon operates within. For worldly happiness ever tends to destroy itself, by corrupting the heart. It fofters the loofe and the violent pafsions. It engenders noxious habits; and taints the mind with falfe delicacy, which makes it feel a thoufand unreal evils.

But put the cafe in the most favourable light. Lay afide from human pleafures both difappointment in purfuit, and deceitfulness in enjoyment; fuppofe them to be fully attainable, and completely fatisfactory; ftill there remains to be confidered the vanity of uncertain possession and short duration. Were there in worldly things any fixed point of fecurity which we could gain, the mind would then have some basis on which to reft. But our condition is fuch, that every thing wavers and totters around us. "Boaft not thyfelf of to-morrow; for thou knoweft not what a day may bring forth." It is much if, during its courfe, thou hearest not of fomewhat to difquiet or alarm thee. For life never proceeds long in a uniform. train. It is continually varied by unexpected events. The feeds of alteration are every where fown; and the funshine of prosperity commonly accelerates their growth. If our enjoyments be numerous, we lie more open on different fides to be wounded. If we have pofsefsed them long, we have greater caufe to dread an approaching change. By flow degrees pro

fperity rifes; but rapid is the progrefs of evil. It requires no preparation to bring it forward. The edifice which it coft much time and labour to erect, one inauspicious event, one fudden blow, can level with the duft. Even fuppofing the accidents of life to leave us untouched, human blifs must still be tranfitory; for man changes of himself. No courfe of enjoyment can delight us long. What amufed our youth, lofes its charm in maturer age. As years advance, our powers are blunted, and our pleafurable feelings decline. The filent lapfe of time is ever carrying fomewhat from us, till at length the period comes, when all must be fwept away. The profpect of this termination of our labours and purfuits, is fufficient to mark our state with vanity. "Our days are a hand-breadth, and our age is as nothing." Within that little space is all our enterprise bounded. We crowd it with toils and cares, with contention and strise. We project great defigns, entertain high hopes, and then leave our plans unfinished, and fink into oblivion.

This much let it fuffice to have faid concerning the vanity of the world. That too much has not been said, must appear to every one who confiders how generally mankind lean to the oppofite fide; and how often, by undue attachment to the prefent ftate, they both feed the moft finful pafsions, and "pierce themfelves through with many forrows."