It is an utter mistake to suppose that “pleasure-seeking and
amusement alone” can give happiness. Of all roads that men can
take in order to be happy, this is the one that is most
completely wrong. Of all weary, flat, dull, and unprofitable
ways of spending life, this exceeds them all. To think of a
dying creature, with an immortal soul, expecting happiness in
feasting and reveling–in dancing and singing–in dressing and
visiting–in party-going and gambling–in races and fairs–in
hunting and shooting–in crowds, in laughter, in noise, in music,
in wine! Surely it is a sight that is enough to make the devil
laugh and the angels weep. Even a child will not play with its
toys all day long. It must have food. But when grown up men and
women think to find happiness in a constant round of amusement
they sink far below a child.
I place before every reader of this paper these common mistakes
about the way to be happy. I ask you to mark them well. I warn
you plainly against these pretended short cuts to happiness,
however popular they may be. I tell you that if you believe that
any one of them can lead you to true peace you are entirely
deceived. Your conscience will never feel satisfied; your
immortal soul will never feel easy: your whole inward man will
feel uncomfortable and unhealthy. Take any one of these roads,
or take all of them, and if you have nothing besides to look to,
you will never find happiness. You may travel on and on and on,
and the wished for object will seem far away at the end of each
stage of life as when you started. You are like one pouring
water into a sieve, or putting money into a bag with holes. You
might as well try to make an elephant happy by feeding him with a
grain of sand a day, as try to satisfy that heart of yours with
position, riches, learning, idleness, or pleasures.
Do you doubt the truth of all that I am saying to you? I dare
say you do. Then let us turn to the great Book of human
experience, and read over a few lines out of its solemn pages.
You will have the testimony of a few competent witnesses on the
great subject I am calling to your attention.
A king will be our first witness: I mean Solomon, King of Israel.
We know that he had power, and wisdom, and wealth, far exceeding
that of any ruler of his time. We know from his own confession,
that he tried the great experiment of seeing how far the good
things of this world can make men happy. We know from the record
of his own hand, the result of this curious experiment. He
writes it by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, for the benefit
of the whole world, in the book of Ecclesiastes. Never, surely,
was the experiment tried under such favorable circumstances:
never was any one so likely to succeed as the Jewish King. Yet
what is Solomon’s testimony? You have it in his melancholy
words: “I have seen all the things that are done under the sun;
all of them are meaningless, a chasing after wind” (Ecclesiastes
1:14).
A famous French lady will be our next witness: I mean Madam De
Pompadour. She was the friend and favorite of Louis the
Fifteenth. She had unbounded influence at the Court of France.
She had everything that money could buy. Yet what does she have
to say?
What a situation is that of those who are great! They
only live in the future, and are only happy in hope.
There is no peace in ambition. I am always gloomy, and
so often very unreasonable. The kindness of the King,
the respect of the court officials, the devotion of my
servants, and the faithfulness of a large number of
friends–motives like these, which ought to make me
happy, no longer affect me. I no longer have feelings
for those things and persons which once pleased me. I
have magnificently furnished my house in Paris: well;
it pleased me for two days!
My residence in the French countryside is charming; and
yet I cannot endure being there alone. Kindhearted
people relate to me all the news and adventures of
Paris: they think I listen, but when they are done I
ask them what they said. In a word, I do not live: I
am dead before my time. I have no interest in the
world. Everything conspires to make my life bitter.
My life is a continual death.
To such testimony I do not need to add a single word. (Sinclair’s
Anecdotes and Aphorisms, p. 33)
A famous German writer will be our next witness: I mean Goethe.
It is well known that he was almost idolized by many during his
life. His works were read and admired by thousands. His name
was known and honored, wherever German was read, all over the
world. And yet the praise of man, of which he reaped such an
abundant harvest, was utterly unable to make Goethe happy. “He
confessed, when about eighty years old, that he could not
remember being in a really happy state of mind even for a few
weeks together; and that when he wished to feel happy, he had to
veil his self-consciousness.” (Sinclair’s Anecdotes and
Aphorisms, p. 280)
“This article originally appeared here at Bible Bulletin Board.”
