Happiness

It will be allowed by all, that Adam was perfectly happy in Paradise before his fall. No tear suffused his eye; no care wrinkled his brow; no fears disturbed his peace; no groan escaped his bosom. He was at rest. He rose in the morning without dread; passed through the day without a sense of need; and lay down at night without a sigh. Perpetual sunshine gilded his countenance, and untroubled serenity reigned in his soul. What made him happy? Not company, for one sole partner of his bliss shared with him the new-made world—not the pleasures of the table, for he ate only of the fruits that grew around him, and drank of the springs that watered the garden; not public amusements, for they had no existence—not music, for, with the exception of the feathered choir of the grove, there was but one voice besides his own, and no instrument, on earth—not the arts, for they were not invented—not science, for it had not begun its discoveries—nor literature, for it had not commenced its studies. Yet, notwithstanding the absence of all these sources of gratification which fallen man depends upon for the little happiness he has, the perfect and unfallen man was happy. And what made him so? The enjoyment of God! He looked up with filial eye to heaven, and said, "O God, you are my God. Your favour is life, and Your loving kindness is better than life itself!"

Think also of "the spirits of just men made perfect" in heaven. Are not they happy? What makes them so? None of the amusements of earth are there—no mirthful parties, no festive scenes, none of the delights which now please the votaries of pleasure, are there. No, it is replied, for it is impossible they should be—they suit not that state. Just so. Yet those holy beings are happy. What are the springs of their felicity? The favour of God! Surely that must be happiness which was enjoyed by unsinning man in Paradise; and will be enjoyed by restored man in heaven. But perhaps it will be thought and said, that what suited the sinless man in Eden, and the sinless spirit in heaven, will not suit the sinful man on earth. Why not? For no other reason, that can be imagined, but because he is sinful. It cannot be because the favour of God is not suited to his nature as a rational creature; or because he has not faculties for such a kind of delight. What can be more adapted to the nature of a finite mind than the enjoyment of the favour of the infinite mind? If, therefore, the soul of man cannot enjoy God, this must be, not from any natural cause which is excusable, but from some sinful cause; and how sinful must it be? What a degradation and debasement of nature is it to have no taste, no disposition for the enjoyment of God; to turn away from our God for happiness; to have no inclination to seek it in him! To prefer many things, anything, everything—to God's favour, as a source of happiness! How startling!