the true God; the end of all the souls he has made; the centre of all created spirits: and eternal life, the only foundation of present as well as eternal happiness. To him, therefore, alone, our heart is due. And he cannot, he will not quit his claim, or consent to its being given to any other. He is continually saying to every child of man, "My son, give me thy heart!" And to give our heart to any other is plain idolatry. Accordingly, whatever takes our heart from him, or shares it with him, is an idol: or, in other words, whatever we seek happiness in, independent of God. 4. Take an instance that occurs almost every day. A person who has been long involved in the world, surrounded and fatigued with abundance of business, having, at length, acquired an easy fortune, disengages himself from all business, and retires into the country-to be happy. Happy in what? Why in taking his ease. For he intends now, -Somno et inertibus horis Ducere sollicite jucunda oblivia vitæ. In gentle inactivity the day! Happy in eating and drinking whatever his heart desires : perhaps more elegant fare than that of the old Roman, who feasted his imagination before the treat was served up: who, before he left the town, consoled himself with the thought, of "fat bacon and cabbage too!" Uncta satis pingui ponentur oluscula lardo! Happy-in altering, enlarging, rebuilding, or at least decorating, the old mansion-house he has purchased: and likewise in improving every thing about it; the stables, outhouses, grounds. But, mean time, where does God come in? No where at all. He did not think about him. He no more thought of the King of Heaven, than of the King of France. God is not in his plan. The knowledge and love of God are entirely out of the question. Therefore, this whole scheme of happiness in retirement is idolatry from beginning to end. 5. If we descend to particulars, the first species of this idolatry is what St. John terms, the Desire of the Flesh': we are apt to take this in too narrow a meaning, as if it related to one of the senses only. Not so: this expression equally refers to all the outward senses. It means, the seeking happiness in the gratification of any, or all of the external senses: although more particularly of the three lower senses, tasting, smelling, and feeling. It means, the seeking happiness herein, if not in a gross, indelicate manner, by open intemperance, by gluttony or drunkenness, or shameless debauchery; yet, in a regular kind of epicurism, in a genteel sensuality, in such an elegant course of selfindulgence, as does not disorder either the head or the stomach, as does not at all impair our health, or blemish our reputation. 6. But we must not imagine this species of idolatry is confined to the rich and great. In this also, "the toe of the peasant," (as our Poet speaks,) "treads upon the heel of the courtier." Thousands in low, as well as in high life, sacrifice to this idol: seeking their happiness, (though in a more humble manner,) in gratifying their outward senses. It is true, their meat, their drink, and the objects that gratify their other senses, are of a coarser kind. But still they make up all the happiness they either have or seek, and usurp the hearts which are due to God. 7. The second species of idolatry mentioned by the Apostle, is, the Desire of the Eye, that is, the seeking of happiness in gratifying the imagination; (chiefly by means of the eyes,) that internal sense, which is as natural to men as either sight or hearing. This is gratified by such objects as are either grand, or beautiful, or uncommon. But as to grand objects, it seems they do not please any longer than they are new. Were we to survey the Pyramids of Egypt daily for a year, what pleasure would they then give? Nay, what pleasure does a far grander object than these, "The ocean rolling on the shelly shore," give to one who has been long accustomed to it? Yea, what pleasure do we generally receive from the grandest object in the universe, Terribly large, and wonderfully bright, With stars unnumber'd, and unmeasur'd light ?" 8. Beautiful objects are the next general source of the pleasures of the imagination: the works of nature in particular. So persons in all ages have been delighted "With sylvan scenes, and hill and dale, And liquid lapse of murmuring streams." Others are pleased with adding art to nature, as in gardens, with their various ornaments: others with mere works of art, as buildings, and representations of nature, whether in statues or paintings. Many, likewise, find pleasure in beautiful apparel, or furniture of various kinds. But novelty must be added to beauty, as well as to grandeur, or it soon palls upon the sense. 9. Are we to refer to the head of beauty, the pleasure which many take in a favourite animal? Suppose a sparrow, a parrot, a cat, a lap-dog? Sometimes it may be owing to this. At other times, none but the person pleased can find any beauty at all in the favourite. Nay, perchance it is in the eyes of all other persons, superlatively ugly. In this case, the pleasure seems to arise from mere whim or caprice; that is, madness. 10. Must we not refer to the head of novelty chiefly, the pleasure found in most diversions and amusements; which, were we to repeat them daily but a few months, would be utterly flat and insipid? To the same head, we may refer the pleasure that is taken in collecting curiosities; whether they are natural or artificial, whether old or new. This sweetens the labour of the virtuoso, and makes all his labour light. But it is not chiefly to novelty, that we are to impute the pleasure we receive from music. Certainly this has an intrinsic beauty, as well as frequently an intrinsic grandeur. This is a beauty and grandeur of a peculiar kind, not easy to be expressed: nearly related to the sublime and the beautiful in poetry, which give an exquisite pleasure. And yet it may be allowed that novelty heightens the pleasure which arises from any of these sources. 12. From the study of languages, from criticism, and from history, we receive a pleasure of a mixed nature, In all these, there is always something new: frequently something beautiful or sublime. And history not only gratifies the imagination in all these respects, but likewise pleases us by touching our passions, our love, desire, joy, pity. The last of these gives us a strong pleasure, though strangely mixed with a kind of pain. So that one need not wonder at the exclamation of a fine Poet, "What is all mirth but turbulence unholy, When to the charms compar'd of heavenly melancholy?" 13. The love of novelty is immeasurably gratified by Experimental Philosophy: and, indeed, by every branch of Natural Philosophy, which opens an immense field for still new discoveries. But is there not likewise a pleasure therein, as well as in mathematical and metaphysical studies, which does not result from the imagination, but from the exercise of the understanding? Unless we will say, that the newness of the discoveries which we make by mathematical, or metaphysical researches, is one reason, at least, if not the chief, of the pleasure we receive therefrom. 14. I dwell the longer on these things, because so very few see them in the true point of view. The generality of men, and more particularly, men of sense and learning, are so far from suspecting, that there is, or can be the least harm in them, that they seriously believe, it is matter of great praise, to give ourselves wholly to them. Who of them, for instance, would not admire and commend the indefati, gable industry of that great Philosopher, who says, "I have now been eight and thirty years at my parish of Upminster. And I have made it clear, that there are no less than three and fifty species of butterflies therein. But if God should spare my life a few years longer, I do not doubt but I should demonstrate, there are five and fifty!" I allow that most of these studies have their use, and that it is possible to use, without abusing them. But if we seek our happiness in any of these things, then it commences an idol. And the enjoyment of it, however it may be admired and applauded by the world, is condemned by God as neither better nor worse than damnable idolatry. 15. The third kind of love of the world, the Apostle speaks of under that uncommon expression, η αλαζονεια τε Big This is rendered by our translators, The Pride of Life. It is usually supposed to mean, the pomp and splendour of those that are in high life. But has it not a more extensive sense? Does it not rather mean, the seeking happiness in the praise of men, which, above all things, engenders pride? When this is pursued in a more pompous way, by kings, or illustrious men, we call it, thirst for glory: when it is sought in a lower way by ordinary men, it is stiled, taking care of our reputation. In plain terms, it is seeking the honour that cometh of men, instead of that which cometh of God only. 16. But what creates a difficulty here, is this, we are required, not only to "give no offence to any one," and to "provide things honest in the sight of all men," but to 66 please all men for their good to edification." But how difficult is it to do this, with a single eye to God? We ought to do all that in us lies, to prevent "the good that is in us from being evil spoken of." Yea, we ought to value a clear reputation, if it be given us, only less than a good conscience. But yet, if we seek our happiness therein, we are liable to perish in our idolatry. : 17. To which of the preceding heads is the love of money to be referred ?. Perhaps sometimes to one, and sometimes to another, as it is a mean of procuring gratifications, either for "the desire of the flesh," for "the desire of the eyes," or for "the pride of life." In any of these cases, money is only pursued, in order to a farther end. But it is sometimes pursued for its own sake, without any farther view. One who is properly a miser, loves and seeks money for its own sake. He looks no farther, but places his happiness in the acquiring or the possessing of it. And this is a species of idolatry, distant from all the preceding; and |