The Influence of the Bible on Human Happiness

The Bible possesses an unmeasured pre-eminence in the influence it exerts in promoting human happiness. If the world is indebted to a supernatural revelation for its language and its letters for its history and its literature j for its laws and its liberties j for its social institutions and the mitigation of its more public calamities 5 for its morality and religious knowledge 5 for a religion that satisfies the conscience, renovates the heart, and fits the soul for heaven; for a standard of excellence and loftiness of character, to which it otherwise must have been a stranger; for the divine power which accompanies its truths, as well as for the benign and hallowed influences of its day of rest 5 then has the great Book of which we have spoken, conferred unspeakably greater benefits on the world, than any other — nay, than all other books. But I do not purpose to illustrate the leading thought of the present lecture, by recapitulating the substance of that which has, already, I fear, been too greatly extended.

Some of the ancients, indeed, endeavoured to form the mind to virtue, but it was a virtue based on interest, or a vain love of approbation. The “honestum,” or” to of the Greek and Roman philosophers is defined by Aristotle to be that which is praiseworthy 5 and by Plato that which is pleasant, or profitable. Their virtue had no broader foundation than the hopes and desires of the present life. Some of them appeared to have a wish to benefit their fellow men, and to be in earnest in their researches after the truth. To such minds, what a relief would the perusal of this Book have afforded, while it clearly disclosed that for which they had so long been seeking, and enabled them to exchange the distant glimpses they had obtained, for the full light revealed in fines that could leave no doubt of their heavenly origin! How would they, had they been taught of God, thrown their poor speculations to the winds, and recognized the virtue for which they had so anxiously sighed, in the divine precepts! But it was not granted them. They lived in error and darkness, for the day-spring from on high had not yet arisen upon their land.

Sinful emotions are the source of disquietude, dissatisfaction, remorse, and misery. Envy and unkindness, suspicion and jealousy, lawless appetites, malignant and stormy passions, infuriated rage, reciprocated treachery, mutual crimination and bitterness, — what so much as these distract the heart and dry up its joys? There is nothing that can make such a mind happy. Perturbed and unallowed affections form no inconsiderable part of the misery of that world, where the worm does not die, and the fire is not quenched. Angels could not be happy in heaven, when their bosoms became such a “troubled sea” as this. Our first parents must be doomed to a life of toil, to a world of thorny care and the grave, when they yielded to such a spirit. Ahab, on the throne of Israel, “refuses to eat bread,” because he could not possess himself of the vineyard of Naboth. Haman, in high favour at the court of Persia, makes himself miserable because, “Mordecai the Jew, sat at the king’s gate.” Who can feel himself at peace when such passions reign in the soul j and where is the bosom in which they may not be found, unless it has been purified by the power of the gospel? Wealth, pleasure, and fame, are the three idols of this world, and the love of these the predominant passions of the heart. And yet they are the most contentious, mischievous, debasing passions, and the most prolific source of individual, social, and public calamity Vanity and ostentation without, are very apt to be the index of poverty and wretchedness within. The rich, the voluptuous, the ambitious, the great, are not the men who are happy. Marcus Crassus antedating his fall by grasping at the wealth of Parthia, Tiberius concealing his cruelty and lust amid the retreats of Caproea, and Alexander on the throne of the world, w eeping because there was not another world to conquer, are melancholy proofs, that amid joys like these, and in the highest gratification of the unhallowed passions which this world can furnish, men not only never can be happy, but may and must be miserable.

There is nothing that allays and cures this febrile action of human depravity like the influence of the Bible. Let any one compare the present state of human society, notwithstanding all its imperfections, with its true character only a few centuries past, and he cannot fail to see how many exciting causes of human misery it has subdued 5 how many a heart it has kept from acting out, and giving unrestrained license to its irritated selfishness 5 how often it has held the fierce passions of men in check, and extinguished the flame which otherwise would have burned with indomitable phrenzy. Affections that are bland and virtuous, are uniformly the source of tranquillity and joy. They are like “rivers of water in a dry place.” They are living fountains within, springing up to purify and refresh the mind. The Bible alone tells us in what true happiness consists, and how it may be attained. It is not without reason that it admonishes us of the danger of mere earthly comforts, because the very desire after them is ordinarily so intense as to become the source of inward corruption, and in their enjoyment we forget our highest good. I have been not a little interested in the fact, that the Saviour, at the commencement of his public ministry, and in the first paragraph of his first discourse, should have so entirely countervailed the commonly received notions of men, in regard to the sources of true happiness. He who formed the human mind, is acquainted with its large desires, and is familiar with every avenue to its joys, has said, “Blessed are the poor in spirit 5 blessed are they that mourn 5 blessed are the meek j blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness j blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” What a rebuke to the spirit of this world! What a contrast to the restless solicitude of grasping covetousness 5 to the dissipation of the gay j to the resentment of the implacable; to the degradation of the impure; and to those senseless joys of ambition, when some new flame ignites its hopes to quench them in darkness! The Bible distinctly teaches us, that he is the happiest man, who possesses most of its peculiar spirit and character. Not because he has the most wealth, for he may be poor, and, like his Divine Master, “have not where to lay his head.” Not because he “seeks honour from men,” but because he seeks “that which cometh from God only.” Not because he is a voluptuary, but a Christian. Not because he has the greatest capacity, but because he possesses an internal spirit, a state of mind and heart which prepare him to appreciate, and quahfy him to enjoy, all that is worth enjoying, and to a degree that is impossible to a mind less pure. “To the upright, there ariseth light in the midst of darkness.” In the gloomiest wilderness, he has a guide that accompanies and cheers him with encouragement. No danger can appal him, no sorrow crush, no doubt depress him. Darkness becomes day, the bitterest flower yields him honey, seeming evil turns to certain good. He utters no complaint, because he knows his lot is so much better than he deserves 5 he yields not to fear, for he is well assured that by a thousand contrasts and combinations, “all things work together for good to them that love God.” Others he sees travelling a gayer road, faring sumptuously, arrayed in rich apparel 5 but he does not repine, does not envy them. He is content that his path should be through the desert, and over the rough places, so that he has peace and joy within. One of the unfailing sources of happiness, for which we are indebted to the Scriptures, is the spirit and character which it requires and imparts.

Man is formed for activity. Exertion is the true element of a well regulated mind. If undisturbed by the implements of husbandry, the soil becomes hard and impenetrable. Its bosom is not open to the dew or rain, or to the vivifying influence of the sun. The scattered seed finds no root, but is driven by every wind that blows over the surface-No verdure is seen to greet the eye, or tree bearing fruit to cheer the careless husbandman; but weeds, rank and dangerous to man, spring up from the soil that was destined for his support and comfort. So it is with the mind of man, when locked up and deprived of healthful exertion he lives for himself alone, and only the most sordid passions spring up within his bosom. Benevolence has no room in a soul so narrow; compassion and sympathy are stifled, and all the nobler faculties languish. Almost the only relief from unmingled misery in the indulgence of some of the evil propensities of our nature, is found in the fact that they produce excitement and incite to exertion. That God who brings good out of evil, has so ordered it that in giving rise to action and effort, even these propensities produce no small amount of good, though aiming at a very different end. Avarice and love of wealth set commerce in motion, provide labour and sustenance for the poor, bring the ends of the earth near to each other, and spread abroad civilization and Christianity. The heathen of the isles and of this continent might still have been unknown, still deprived of the blessings of the gospel, had not the ambitious spirit of adventure quickened the ingenuity and winged the sails of the navigator. The love of fame may be the only motive that inspires the tongue of the orator and the pen of the writer j but God gives them a destiny different from what they proposed to themselves. Their names may be lost amid the rushing whirlpool of time 5 but their words and their works may break the chains of nations, carry intelligence over the face of the earth, and their influence felt throughout eternity. Mankind, in this respect may be not unaptly compared to the Alchymists of old, who spent their lives in laborious search after the fabled philosopher’s stone. Their unwearied industry failed of success, for it was directed toward an object that was unattainable 5 yet, though misapplied, it was not, as subsequent events have shown, without its sources of happiness to themselves, and benefit to the world.

If then action in itself considered, is a source of happiness and a benefit to mankind, how much more when it is founded on intelligent and benevolent principles? Few sources of pleasure equal those which arise from benevolent exertion. When intelligent and benevolent principles stimulate it to action, then it is that the soul is enlarged and elevated, and the bosom opened to every kindly influence. Benevolence and well doing become their own reward, and inducements to future efforts. The seed sown in such a soil brings forth fruit an hundred fold 5 and a rich harvest in the happiness of others adds to the already abundant store of our own. But whence are intelligent and benevolent principles of action to be derived? Does nature dictate them? Have they been discovered by reason? Are they found amid the researches of philosophy? Are they gathered from observation? Spring they up even from dear bought experience? What is more obvious, than that the world needs a supernatural revelation, if for nothing else than to discover the true aim and end of man’s existence? It is a remark of Cicero, that “those who do not agree in stating what is the chief end, or good, must of course differ in the whole system of precepts for the conduct of human life.” And yet this writer informs us, that on this subject “there was so great a dissension among the philosophers, that it was almost impossible to enumerate their different sentiments.” And hence it is that the men of pagan lands so rarely even professed to put forth their exertions for a benevolent end, and knew so little of the happiness arising from such an exalted source. Great exertions from great motives constitute the glory and blessedness of our nature. And no where do we learn what great exertions and great motives are, but from the Bible. The wisdom to guide, and the aliment to sustain them, are derived only from that great source of instruction and duty. Where on all the pages of pagan and infidel philosophy do we read such an injunction as this, — “Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, do all to the glory of God.” Whence, but from that sacred Book do we learn the maxim, so familiar to every Christian mind, “None of us hveth to himself, and none of us diet.h to himself 5 but whether we live, we live unto the Lord, and whether we die, we die unto the Lord!” He, and he alone, is the happy man, who has been taught to consider the nature and tendency of his conduct, and whether it will approve itself to God, and advance the designs of his truth and love in the world 5 who makes his will the rule, and his glory the end 5 and whose governing aim and study are to please him, and show forth his praise. Such a man is happy, because he lives to do good. His daily employment is his daily joy. His” meat is to do the will of him that sent him, and finish his work. He may be as great a sufferer as Paul, and yet as happy as he. He cannot be miserable, so long as he acts from the principle of communicative goodness. No matter where his particular sphere of occupation, he is happy. His aim is high, and he has an object which sustains, and an impulse which encourages him. His anticipations are joyous, his reflections tranquil. He looks backward with pleasure, and forward with hope. He has the joy of an approving conscience. He has not buried his talent, nor is he a cumberer of the ground. He lives to bless the world. And when he dies, he bequeaths to it his counsels, his example, his bounty and his prayers. Another source of enjoyment for which we are indebted to the Bible therefore, is the habit of benevolent exertion.

It is in vain to turn our eyes from the sad spectacle of human misery. We cannot persuade ourselves that it does not exist, nor arm ourselves with a stoical insensiblility to evils which are every where around us, and which we ourselves feel. If you open your eyes upon the annals of time, you see an unbroken series of existencies who appear for a few days, or hours, on this scene of action, and then pass away. The cradle is suifused with their tears, and, in a little while, the places that so lately knew them, are hung around with the emblems of their dissolution. And between the cradle and the grave, what mournful scenes fill up the drama of human life! What hours of sadness and gloom! What painful diseases, what disheartening discouragements, what disappointments and losses; what defeated hopes and withered honours 5 what depression and melancholy; what malignity of enemies and fickleness of friends; what unkindness, darkness, and fear; what individual and domestic calamity, and public distress*, what consternation and dismay 5 all heightened and aggravated by the distressing doubt and uncertainty as to what shall be on the morrow! Trials like these befall us at every step through life. No hour can we be free from the fear that what we value most on earth may be snatched from us. In this respect, man seems subjected to a severer sentence than the rest of the natural world, and the curse of death falls with a heavier weight upon him. The trees and plants grow up to their full height, fill up the measure of their years, and then decay and fall. Flowers bloom through their passing life, and then wither and die according to the laws of their nature. Birds and beasts live, for the most part. until age creeps upon them, and, unless they are destroyed by the hand of man, are rarely cut off by disease. The brute creation have no thought, no fear of evil. Their life is not embittered by the expectation that they must die; they have no knowledge beyond the present and the past 5 their hopes and their fears gather nothing from their experience which may reveal to them the morrow; but they live in contented ignorance and apathy, and at death sink into the deep, never-ending night of annihilation.

But it is not so with man. Man perishes from the cradle to the grave; and “suffers a thousand deaths in fearing one.” He alone is aware of the dangers that threaten him, and they are every where about his path. “Man dieth and wasteth away, yea, man giveth up the ghost, and where is he?” Who has not sympathized with the Persian poet, when he said,

I passed the burying-place, and wept sorely,

To think how many of my friends were in the mansions of the

dead. And in an agony of grief, I cried out, Where are they? And Echo gave the answer, and said. Where are they?”

How often do w grieve over the destruction of our fondest hopes? When heart is bound up in heart, how oft is the tie rent suddenly asunder, the sweetest fellowships severed, and the joys of the happiest life veiled by the gloom of the grave. Life and death seem to walk hand in hand 5 and

31* even while we are rejoicing in the presence of the one, comes his stern companion and casts a Wight upon our prospects. Amid those very scenes where we have witnessed the joyful career of one we love, we are called to behold him pine in sickness and suffer in death. The hand which has performed for us so many acts of kindness, is now reached out to us for aid that we cannot give; and the voice whose tones were such music to the ear, can now scarcely be heard, or heard only in sounds of distress. All which formerly made the delight our hearts, now makes up their anguish. And if in hope of soothing their dying pillow, we summon strength, and stand by to receive the last sigh, to return the last weak pressure of the hand, to watch the advance of death as he steals from the cold limbs and brow to the heart, and freezes there the feeble current of life, and then gaze upon the lifeless form for another breath, another motion, which, alas! we shall not hear, nor see j we feel, for the moment, as though this grief, this overwhelming sorrow, could not be supported. When, too, after the first hour of anguish is past, and we return to that cold clay to put it in order for the tomb, to look still again upon its changed Hneaments, and to feel that it was but yesterday and there was a bloom upon this cheek, a lustre in this eye, a voice upon these lips; we are mourners afresh — we are silent — the sad picture is all before us!

Seal up this sacred volume, and I see not whence the light dawns to cheer this sombre picture. But for the Bible, man would be placed in a grade of happiness far below the brutes that perish. Better be any thing than rational, without the religion of the Bible. The Scriptures inform me that these evils have a cause. They all come from the hand of God. “I make peace, I create evil, I the Lord do all these things.” Chance and fate have no place in the government of “the God only wise.” Sorrow is designed nor is the design malignant, or unkind. The unseen hand that inflicts these trials is as benevolent as it is wise, and the Being who dispenses them is as far above all other beings in goodness, as he is in power. We learn from the Bible too, that they have a moral cause 5 that they are the rebuke of the Holy One for our iniquity j that they are the discipline of a heavenly parent, and designed to bring lck his wayward children to their forsaken God. And when rebellious man sees and feels this truth, his soul is subdued to submission, to tranquillity, to peace, and under the heaviest calamity he looks upward and says, “It is the Lord, let him do what seemeth him good!” And this of itself is the source of abounding consolations. How often in our intercourse with mankind do.we cheerfully submit to present pain and evil, when counselled to it by those in whose wisdom and benevolence we have confidence. Extend this principle, so often and so beautifully illustrated in the word of God, to all the evils of the present life, and we have that feeling of quiet, trusting confidence which supports the believer under all the evils which an all-wise Father is pleased to lay upon him. It is a principle prolific in consolations to the mourner 5 and well may be the confidence and joy of the world and of the universe. “The Lord reigneth, let the earth rejoice j let the multitude of the isles be glad thereof.” And what shall we say of the hopes and prospects by which the Bible cheers the hearts of the bereaved? What rather may we not say? Is it blind conjecture which the Scriptures reveal respecting the state of departed man? Is there no life to come? no great resurrection? no comforter to arrest the current of “mourning, lamentation and wo,” after the dust we love has been deposited in the tomb? When reminded keenly of our loss we exclaim. Shall we not meet again? Is this parting forever % — is there nothing in the Bible that can answer the agonizing inquiry? When we wander as it were along the borders of that vast ocean which has swallowed up our living treasures 5 when we sit down there, and weep and call upon the waves of eternity to give up their dead 5 when from the shore of time, we look and listen over the vast abyss of waters, does no sound reach us? To the ear of faith there is a voice. We listen, and our grief is allayed. “For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will Godl bring with him.” They do but “sleep.” They “sleep in Jesus.” Death dissolves not their union with him. Yes, our grief is allayed, and we journey on through life consoled. No longer now do our thoughts wander to that mound of earth where their remains have been deposited. We look upward beyond this sphere. A happy meeting, a reunion for eternity hovers before us like a star, illumines our path, and leads us forward in joyful hope.

No where does the Bible look with cold indifference on human misery. So adapted is it to human sorrows, that its precious counsels and promises are scarcely intelligible, and never appreciated, except by those who are “chosen in the furnace of affliction.” Go up with me to that chamber of sorrow. It is not the dwelling of a pagan. It is not the couch of some deluded disciple of Mahomet. Nor yet is it the abode of a mere nominal Christian. “This I know by experience,” said she, “the days of ease and worldly prosperity are seldom to Christians their better days. So far from it, that to the praise and glory of God’s holy name would I speak it, I have substantial reason to call these my better days — these days and nights of pain — these days of almost absolute confinement and solitude are not only my better, but my best days •, because the Saviour condescends to be more present with me- in them; to manifest himself to me as he does not unto the world 5 to stand by my bed of affliction, and speak kindly to my heart.”*

* Life of Mrs. Hawkes.

O, how dark are the shadows which human reason and vain philosophy cast upon such scenes as these! There is no such rehef from sorrow as is found in the Bible.

I have spoken of the consolations furnished by the Bible in trial and in view of the death of others. But we must penetrate yet deeper sorrows than these. There is an hour when we ourselves must die. If we find death an evil when we mark its advances upon those around us, what will it be when he comes up into our own chambers? Who can trifle with this monster then? When he invades our own pillow, which of us will not recoil from his approach, and shrink from the ravages of this king of terrors? “The sting of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the law.” Death is an hour which never fails to bring with it the consciousness of guilt, and a sense of the righteousness of that pure and holy law which men have violated, and by which they are condemned. Nor is there any thing to quiet the apprehensions and soothe the alarm excited in the breasts of those who know not God, at the approach of this dread destroyer. Men who never drank into the spirit of the Bible, feel then that every thing on which they built their hopes, is about to be swept -away, and that, “in that very day,” their thoughts, their treasures, their grandeur, their honours, their little world, all perish. They have lived at a distance from that God who now draws near in his displeasure, and tremble at the thought of appearing before him who is so holy that he cannot look on sin. No knowledge of the Redeemer’s person and work comforts them 5 no welcome impressions of his saving mercy are left upon the soul, and it departs in doubt and darkness, if not in despair. So full of darkness were the views of Socrates one of the wisest and best of the heathens, that just before he took the fatal hemlock, he said, “I am going out of the world and you are to continue in it 5 but which of us has the better part, is a secret to every one but God.” Volumes might be written depicting the scenes of anguish and horror which have been exhibited at the death-bed of those who have rejected the Bible. What multititudes of dying men, burdened with the load of unpardoned sin, and tormented by the accusations of a guilty conscience, have exclaimed with one with whose closing history many of you are familiar, “O, that I might come to that place of torment, that I may be sure to feel the worst, and to be freed from the fear of worse to come!”

Not so the dying Christian. To him death has no sting *, over him the grave boasts no victory 5 nor has the second death any power. “He knows whom he has believed.” His “life is hid with Christ in God.”. He has unshaken confidence that every thing is safe in the hands of Jesus Christ. Often have I seen him at that momentous hour, and heard him as his quivering hps commended his spirit to “him who loved him, and washed him in his own blood.” Time would fail me to tell of Ignatius, of Polycarp, of Augustine, of Hilary, of John Huss, of Jerome of Prague, of Luther, of Melancthon, of Beza, of Patrick Hamilton, of George Wishart, of John Knox, of Tindal, of Bradford, of Cranmer, of Bunyan, of Bacon, of Robert Bruce, of Samuel Rutherford, of Claud, of Harvey, of Ralph Erskine, of Locke, of Baxter, of Matthew Henry, of Whitefield, of Edwards, of Brainerd, Dwight, Halyburton, Payson, Evarts, and a host of men of whom the world was not worthy, all of whom “died in faith,” and sung the songs of salvation as they bid adieu to their earthly pilgrimage. The history of the church is filled with testimonials to the worth and blessedness of the Bible which have flowed from lips, which though pallid in death, have glowed with praise. What but this Book of God enables the child of faith, “when flesh and heart fail,” to say, “Thou wilt show me the path of life 5 in thy presence is fulness of joy, and at thy right hand there are pleasures for ever more?” What but this prompts him to sing, “I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith; henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give me in that day, and not to me only, but to all them that love his appearing?” What but this Book of grace and consolations, when death’s icy hand chills his frame, and the grave unfolds its darkness and sohtude, inspires the triumph, “O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?” Not more distant are our thoughts from the thoughts of God, or earth from heaven, than are all the consolations of reason and philosophy from the consolations of the Bible to a dying man.

There is one more topic which gives emphasis to the thought which I am endeavouring to illustrate, which I wish it were in my power to present in its native force and richness. The source and fulness of created good is the knowledge and

ENJOYMENT OF God.

“Give what thou wilt, without thee, we are poor, And with thee rich, take what thou wilt away.”

The mind of man is like a ship which the storm has dragged from her moorings and driven out to sea. It is tossed upon unknown waves, and has neither peace nor safety until it can renew its communication with the shore. No sooner did it apostatize from God, than it was torn from its proper element, and separated from its proper object. Without the knowledge of God, mankind are like children deprived of a father, driven along, the sport of accident, with no hope for the future, and no security that their present happiness would endure, or their present misery end. Darkness would overshadow their path from the cradle to the grave. Admit, for the sake of the illustration, that our race were deprived at once of all knowledge of God, where would be those hopes which support man in the gloomy hours of adversity, where that gratitude and love that lend such a zest to his hours of joy! What sadness would reign over the world! what unalleviated despair! Or, if we might extend this melancholy picture, if the imagination might carry us beyond this earth to a universe ignorant of its Maker, O, what a chasm to strike the Infinite One out of existence! Then should we see in their once happy spheres, the angels sitting apart and weeping that they had no God 5 or behold them flying through infinite space, winging their way through the mazes of the whirling planets, and seeking some token of the Father they had lost, and, as they met, saying to one another. Is it so? Have we no God — no Father? No, we have no God! And with boundless grief and despair they would wing their way farther and farther through the universe. Then would every harp be unstrung, every song silent, and the despairing words, we have no God — no Father — a blind chance rules — be all that would break the awful silence of heaven. In one dismal region these sounds might, perhaps, bring some joy. Fiends might triumph — might laugh and exclaim, Heard ye there is no God — there is no Heaven? This universe is now one boundless place of torment I Then let it be supposed that to this despairing world the news should be brought that God still ruled. Let the note peal as from a trumpet through the universe, “He lives, he reigns 5” — and what transport would fill the earth and the heavens! Then would the child of sorrow lift his head from the dust to his Father who is in heaven. Angels would string again their harps, and re-echo the tidings, — “He lives, he reigns God over all, blessed for ever!” — The triumph of fiends would be turned into shame, and hell resume her ancient gloom and despair.

We are not competent to appreciate the effect, were the knowledge of God blotted out of the universe. There was a moment when the only created mind fully capable of comprehending the fearful thought, seemed to feel it as an insupportable reality. And who can tell the feelings of that mighty mind at that awful moment, when God hid his face from him, and the suffering Son looked up in vain, and exclaimed, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me!” Nearly such would be the condition of this world without the Bible. The Bible alone points the exile to his native land. It conducts the wandering, thirsty traveller to the very fountain of life. It leads the long-lost spirit back to God.

But beside the support and hope which the knowledge of God procures, unspeakably greater is the pleasure we derive from loving him. What greater blessing. has heaven bestowed upon the human race than pure and amiable affections? Of all men he is the most miserable who has nothing to love. His heart is cold, and his bosom like the desolate heath. Nor is there any thing that can revive and refresh his withered mind until he has found an object on which to bestow his affections. No small portion of our happiness in this world arises from the love we feel toward those who are dear to us. We may indeed have affections that are not virtuous; but the pleasures we derive from them do not deserve the name. We may love what is unworthy, inconstant, and changeful; and then our expectations are defeated. We may love what is transient and dying; and then our joys are turned into grief. And yet, with all its fickleness and uncertainty, earth furnishes no such happiness as where heart yearns toward its fellow heart. In so far as their characters are faulty, the pleasure of our love it is true is in proportion diminished; and yet with all their blemishes, the loss of their affections could not be easily repaired. But suppose those we love are exalted beyond their fellow men, endowed with an amiable and generous mind, gifted with a strength of intellect and purpose that are softened by benevolence and condescension, and over all these qualities a winning manner throws its attractive charms; what delight do we experience in affectionate intercourse with them. We feel as it were almost raised to their level, and enjoy a pride and gratification that we are esteemed worthy of their love. And this thought elevates us indeed, and keeps us above the level of the common world. And how careful are we to do nothing to forfeit their confidence, and what grief and self-reproach do we feel if we have forfeited it 5 for conscience tells us that the folly, the error is all our own. What then must be the happiness of fixing the heart on God where there is nothing unlovely, nothing fickle, nothing false or dying! From our best affections toward creatures up to the love of God, there is a height as lofty as his ways and attributes are above the attributes and ways of mortals. No fear can haunt the mind, that he may change in his character, or in his love. He is above the reach of accident, or mutation, perfect in benevolence and power, and to those who trust in him is a sure and perpetually increasing source of joy. Men no longer grasp at shadows, when they fix their hearts on God. They think of him, and are happy; they contemplate his nature, and their best affections and purest happiness become more exalted and more pure, the greater their love. Solicitude subsides into tranquillity, peace is invigorated to confidence, love awakes to joy, and not unfrequently joy to transport, at a view of the divine excellence and glory. And then to receive love for love 5 to lean on the bosom of divine faithfulness; to make the Eternal God our refuge and portion — this is the blessedness for which the spiritual nature of man is formed. This is that great law of moral attraction by which the soul enjoys even a sort of sympathy with the divine nature and participates in his blessedness.

The world has no substitute for such a source of joy. You may be happy my young friends, without power, without influence, without learning, without wealth; but you cannot be happy without God. Give man all of this world that he desires 5 multiply around him the gratifications of sense and the pleasures of thought 5 and if he have not God for his refuge and joy, the day is not far distant when he will feel that he is like the prodigal in a far country, feeding upon husks and clothing himself with rags. Nothing can make you miserable so long as you enjoy the presence of God. To feel every where surrounded with Deity 5 to see him every where, and every where enjoy him — this is the blessedness which the Bible is capable of imparting. Nothing separates such a mind “from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus his Lord.” This “green earth” may be parched up, and all its sources of pleasure dried away; but such a mind ranges more delectable mountains, and quenches the ardour of its desires at fountains of living water. “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures 5 he leadeth me beside the still waters 5 he restoreth my soul.”

Such is the influence of this holy book on human happiness. No matter where, or on whom its blessings descend, its legitimate influence is to make men happy. Wherever it finds him on this vast sea of trouble, however far from land, however shattered by the storm, it fills the torn sails of the tempest-tost, and wafts him to the shore. Nay, it calms the tempest. The voice of the waves is hushed by its power, and the heaving ocean is stilled into a peaceful haven.

“Chose admirable,” exclaims the great Montesquieu, “la religion Chrfetienne, qui ne semble avoir d’objet que la felicite de I’autre vie, fait encore notre bonheur dans celle-ci.” Higher authority has said, “Godliness is profitable for all things j having the promise of the life that now is, and that which is to come.” There are few errors more to be regretted than that the religion of the Bible is not adapted to promote human happiness. Its very sacrifices have more than an adequate compensation. If it commands us to give up self, it is only for the love of God 5 if it teaches us to give up time, it gives us eternity in return 5 and in doing this, it does not even diminish our happiness in time. It is a reproach to Christianity that its disciples are not more uniformly cheerful and happy. The religion of the Bible is not a cheerless religion. Unhappy Christians there are, but unhappy religion there is none. God grant, my young friends, that you may possess an humble piety, a self-denying, laborious piety, a piety that lives above the world and walks with God, but at the same time, a cheerful, happy piety.