Happiness

"Blessed [Happy] are the people whose God is the LORD."

Psalm 144:15

An atheist was once addressing a crowd of people in the open air.

He was trying to persuade them that there was no God and no

devil, no heaven, and no hell, no resurrection, no judgment, and

no life to come. He advised them to throw away their Bibles, and

not to pay attention to what preachers said. He recommended them

to think as he did, and to be like him. He talked boldly. The

crowd listened eagerly. It was "the blind leading the blind."

Both were falling into the pit (Matthew 15:14).

In the middle of his address a poor old woman suddenly pushed her

way through the crowd, to the place where he was standing. She

stood before him. She looked him full in the face. "Sir," she

said, in a loud voice, "Are you happy?" The atheist looked

scornfully at her, and gave her no answer. "Sir," she said

again, "I ask you to answer my question. Are you happy? You

want us to throw away our Bibles. You tell us not to believe

what preachers say about Christ. You advise us to think as you

do, and be like you. Now before we take your advice we have a

right to know what good we will gain by it. Do your fine new

ideas give you a lot of comfort? Do you yourself really feel

happy?"

The atheist stopped, and attempted to answer the old woman's

question. He stammered, and shuffled, and fidgeted, and

endeavored to explain his meaning. He tried hard to return to

the subject. He said, he "had not come to preach about

happiness." But it was of no use. The old woman stuck to her

point. She insisted on her question being answered, and the

crowd took her side. She pressed him hard with her inquiry, and

would take no excuse. And at last the atheist was obliged to

leave, and sneak off in the confusion. His conscience would not

let him stay: he dared not say that he was happy.

The old woman showed great wisdom in asking the question that she

did. The argument she used may seem very simple, but in reality

it is one of the most powerful that can be employed. It is a

weapon that has more effect on some minds than the most elaborate

reasoning by some of our great apologists. Whenever a man begins

to speak against and despise old Bible Christianity, thrust home

at his conscience the old woman's question. Ask him whether his

new views make him feel comfortable within himself. Ask Him

whether he can say, with honesty and sincerity, that he is happy.

The grand test of a man's faith and religion is, "Does it make

him happy?"

Let me now warmly invite every reader to consider the subject of

this paper. Let me warn you to remember that the salvation of

your soul, and nothing less, is closely bound up with the

subject. The heart cannot be right in the sight of God which

knows nothing of happiness. That man or woman cannot be in a

safe state of soul who feels nothing of peace within.

There are three things which I purpose to do, in order to clear

up the subject of happiness. I ask special attention to each one

of them. And I pray the Spirit of God will apply it to all the

souls of those who read this paper.

I. Let me point out some things which are absolutely essential

to happiness.

II. Let me expose some common mistakes about the way to be

happy.

III. Let me show the way to be truly happy.

I. First of all I have to "point out some things which are

absolutely essential to true happiness."

Happiness is what all mankind wants to obtain: the desire of it

is deeply planted in the human heart. All men naturally dislike

pain, sorrow, and discomfort. All men naturally like ease,

comfort, and bliss. All men naturally hunger and thirst after

happiness. Just as the sick man longs for health, and the

prisoner of war for liberty--just as the parched traveler in hot

countries longs to see the cooling fountain, or the ice-bound

polar voyager the sun rising above the horizon--just in the same

way does poor mortal man long to be happy. But how few consider

what they really mean when they talk of happiness! How vague and

indistinct and undefined the ideas of most men are on the

subject! They think some are happy who in reality are miserable:

they think some are gloomy and sad who in reality are truly

happy. They dream of a happiness which in reality would never

satisfy their nature's wants. Let me try this day to throw a

little light on the subject.

True happiness "is not perfect freedom from sorrow and

discomfort." Let that never be forgotten. If it were so there

would be no such thing as happiness in the world. Such happiness

is for angels who have never fallen, and not for man. The

happiness I am inquiring about is the kind that a poor, dying,

sinful creature may hope to attain. Our whole nature is defiled

by sin. Evil abounds in the world. Sickness, and death, and

change are daily doing their sad work on every side. In such a

state of things the highest happiness man can attain to on earth

must necessarily be a mixed thing. If we expect to find any

literally perfect happiness on this side of the grave, we expect

what we will not find.

True happiness "does not consist in laughter and smiles." The

face is very often a poor index of the inward man. There are

thousands who laugh loud and are merry in the company of others,

but are wretched and miserable in private, and almost afraid to

be alone. There are hundreds who are solemn and serious in their

demeanor, whose hearts are full of solid peace. A poet once

wrote that our smiles are not worth very much, he said, "A man

may smile and smile and be a villain."

And the eternal Word of God teaches us that "Even in laughter the

heart may ache" (Proverbs 14:13). Don't tell me of smiling and

laughing faces: I want to hear of something more than that when I

ask whether a man is happy. A truly happy man no doubt will

often show his happiness in his face; but a man may have a very

merry face and yet not be happy at all.

Of all deceptive things on earth nothing is so deceptive as mere

fun and cheerfulness. It is a hollow empty show, utterly devoid

of substance and reality. Listen to the brilliant talker in

society, and mark the applause which he receives from an company:

follow him to his own private room, and you will very likely find

him plunged in sad despondency. I know a man who confessed that

even when he was thought to be most happy he often wished that he

were dead. Look at the smiling beauty at the party, and you

might suppose she never knew what it was like to be unhappy; see

her the next day at her own home, and you may probably find her

angry at herself and everybody else besides. No, worldly fun is

not real happiness! There is a certain pleasure about it, I do

not deny. There is an animal excitement about it, I make no

question. There is a temporary elevation of spirits about it, I

freely concede. But don't call it by the sacred name of

happiness. The most beautiful cut flowers stuck in the ground do

not make a garden. When ordinary glass is called diamond, and

tinsel is called gold, then, and not till then can people who can

laugh and smile be called happy men. Once there was a man who

consulted a physician about his depression. The physician

advised him to keep up his spirits by going to hear the great

comic actor of the day. "You should go and hear Matthews. He

will make you good." "Sorry to say, sir," was the reply, "I am

Matthews himself!"

To be truly happy "the highest wants of a man's nature must be

met and satisfied." The requirements of his curiously wrought

constitution must be all met. There must be nothing about him

that cries, "Give, give," but cries in vain and gets no answer.

Animals are happy as long as they are warm and fed. The little

infant looks happy when it is clothed, and fed, and well, and in

its mother's arms. And why? Because it is satisfied. And just

so it is with man. His highest wants must be met and satisfied

before he can be truly happy. All needs must be met. There must

be no void, no empty places, no unsupplied cravings. Till then

he is never truly happy.

And what are "man's principal wants?" Does he only have a body?

No: he has something more! He has a soul. Does he only have the

five senses? Can he do nothing but hear, and see, and smell, and

taste, and feel? No: he has a thinking mind and a conscience!

Does he have any consciousness of any world but that in which he

lives and moves? He has. There is still a small voice within

him which often makes itself heard: "That this is not all there

is to life! There is world unseen: there is a life beyond the

grave." Yes! it is true. We are fearfully and wonderfully made.

All men know it: all men feel it, if they would only speak the

truth. It is utter nonsense to pretend that food and clothing

and earthly material wealth alone can make men happy. The soul

has needs. There are needs of the conscience. There can be no

true happiness until these wants are satisfied.

To be truly happy "a man must have sources of happiness which are

not dependent on anything in this world." There is nothing on

earth which is not stamped with the mark of instability and

uncertainty. All the good things that money can buy are but for

a moment: they either leave us or we are obliged to leave them.

All the sweetest relationships in life are liable to come to an

end: death may come any day and cut them off. The man whose

happiness depends entirely on things here below is like him who

builds his house on sand.

Don't tell me of your happiness if it daily depends on the

uncertainties of the earth. Your home may be rich in comforts;

your wife and children may be all you could desire; your incomes

may be amply sufficient to meet all your wants. But oh,

remember, if you have nothing more than this to look to, that you

are standing on the edge of a cliff! You joy may be deep and

earnest, but it is fearfully short-lived. It has no root. It is

not true happiness.

To be really happy "a man must be able to look at every part of

his life without uncomfortable feelings." He must be able to

look at the past without guilty fears; he must be able to look

around him without discontent; he must be able to look forward

without anxious dread. He must be able to sit down and think

calmly about things past, present, and to come, and feel

prepared. The man who has a weak side in his condition--a side

that he does not like looking at or considering--that man is not

really happy.

Do not talk to me of your happiness, if you are unable to look

steadily either before or behind you. Your present position may

be easy and pleasant. You may find many sources of joy and

gladness in your profession, your dwelling-place, your family,

and your friends. Your health may be good, your spirits may be

cheerful. But stop and think quietly over your past life. Can

you reflect calmly on all the omissions and commissions of by-

gone years? How will they bear God's inspection? How will you

answer for them at the last judgment? And then look forward and

think on the years yet to come. Think of the certain end towards

which you are heading; think of death; think of judgment; think

of the hour when you will meet God face to face. Are you ready

for it? Are you prepared? Can you look forward to these things

without alarm? Oh, be very sure if you cannot look comfortably

at any time in your life but the present, then your boasted

happiness is a poor unreal thing! It is but a fancy and

decorated coffin--fair and beautiful on the outside, but nothing

but bones and decay within. It is a mere thing of a day, like

Jonah's gourd. It is not real happiness.

I ask my readers to fix in their minds the account of things

essential to happiness, which I have attempted to give. Dismiss

from your thoughts the many mistaken notions on this subject,

they are like counterfeit money. To be truly happy, the wants of

your soul and conscience must be satisfied; to be truly happy,

your joy must be founded on something more than this world can

give you; to be truly happy, you must be able to look on every

side--above, below, behind, before--and feel that all is right.

This is real, genuine happiness: this is the happiness I have in

view when I urge your attention to the subject of this paper.

II. In the next place, "let me expose some common mistakes about

the way to be happy."

There are several roads which are thought by many to lead to

happiness. In each of these roads thousands and tens of

thousands of men and women are continually traveling. Each

fancies that if he could only attain all he wants he would be

happy. Each fancies, if he does not succeed, that the fault is

not in his road, but in his own lack of luck and good fortune.

And everyone seems ignorant of the fact that they are chasing

after shadows. They have started in a wrong direction: they are

seeking that which can never be found in the place where they

seek it.

I will mention by name some of the principal delusions about

happiness. I do it in love, and kindness, and compassion to

men's souls. I believe it to be a public duty to warn people

against cheats, quacks, and impostors. Oh how much trouble and

sorrow it might save my readers, if they would only believe what

I am going to say!

It is an utter mistake to suppose the "position and fame alone"

can give happiness. The kings, presidents, and rulers of this

world are not necessarily happy men. They have troubles and

crosses, which none know but themselves; they see a thousand

evils, which they are unable to remedy; they are slaves working

in golden chains, and have less real liberty than any in the

world; they have burdens and responsibilities laid upon them,

which are a daily weight on their hearts. The Roman Emperor

Antonine often said, that "the imperial power was an ocean of

miseries." Queen Elizabeth, when she heard a milk-maid singing,

wished that she had been born to a lot like her's. Never did the

poet write a truer word than when he said, "Uneasy lies the head

that wears a crown."

It is an utter mistake to suppose that "riches alone" can give

happiness. They can enable a man to command and possess

everything but inward peace. They cannot buy a cheerful spirit

and a light heart. There is anxiety in the getting of them, and

anxiety in the keeping of them, anxiety in the using of them, and

anxiety in the disposing of them, anxiety in the gathering, and

anxiety in the scattering of them. He is a wise man who said

that "money" was only another name for "trouble."

It is an utter mistake to suppose that "learning and science

alone" can give happiness. They may occupy a man's time and

attention, but they cannot really make him happy. They that

increase knowledge often "increase sorrow:" the more they learn,

the more they discover their own ignorance (Ecclesiastes 1:18).

The heart wants something as well as the head: the conscience

needs food as well as the intellect. All the secular knowledge

in the world will not give a man joy and gladness, when he thinks

about sickness, and death, and the grave. They that have climbed

the highest, have often found themselves solitary, dissatisfied,

and empty of peace. The learned Selden, at the close of his

life, confessed that all his learning did not give him such

comfort as four verses of Titus (2:11-14):

For the grace of God that brings salvation

has appeared to all men. It teaches us to

say "No" to ungodliness and worldly passions,

and to live self-controlled, upright and

godly lives in this present age, while we

wait for the blessed hope - the glorious

appearing of our great God and Savior, Jesus

Christ, who gave Himself for us to redeem us

from all wickedness and to purify for Himself

a people that are his very own, eager to do

what is good.

It is an utter mistake to suppose that "idleness alone" can give

happiness. The laborer who gets up at five in the morning, and

goes out to work all day in a cold clay ditch, often thinks, as

he walks past the rich man's house, "What a fine thing it must be

to have no work to do." Poor fellow! He doesn't know what he is

saying. The most miserable creature on earth is the man who has

nothing to do. Work for the hands or work for the mind is

absolutely essential to human happiness. Without it the mind

feeds upon itself, and the whole inward man becomes diseased.

The machinery within "will" work, and without something to work

upon, will often wear itself to pieces. There was no idleness in

the Garden of Eden. Adam and Eve had to "work it and take care

of it." There will be no idleness in heaven: God's "servants

will serve Him." Oh, be very sure the idlest man is the man most

truly unhappy! (Genesis 2:15; Revelation 22:3)

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)

An English poet will be our next witness: I mean Lord Byron, if

ever there was one who ought to have been happy according to the

standard of the world, Lord Byron was the man. He began life

with all the advantages of English rank and position. He had

splendid abilities and powers of mind, which the world soon

discovered and was ready to honor. He had a sufficiency of means

to gratify every lawful wish. Humanly speaking, there seemed

nothing to prevent him from enjoying life and being happy. Yet

it is a notorious fact that Byron was a miserable man. Misery

stands out in his poems: misery creeps out in his letters.

Weariness, boredom, disgust, and discontent appear in all of his

ways. He is an awful warning that rank, and title, and literary

fame, alone, are not sufficient to make a man happy.

A man of science will be our next witness: I mean Sir Humphrey

Davy. He was a man eminently successful in the line of life

which he chose, and deservedly so. A distinguished philosopher--

the inventor of the famous safety-lamp which bears his name, and

has preserved many a poor miner from death by fiery explosion. A

member of the ruling class in England and President of the Royal

Society--his whole life seemed a continual career of prosperity.

If education alone were the road to happiness, this man at least

ought to have been happy. Yet what was the true record of Davy's

feelings? We have it in his own sad journal at the latter part

of his life. He describes himself in two painful words: "Very

miserable!"

A man of humor and pleasure will be our next witness: I mean Lord

Chesterfield. He will speak for himself: his own words in a

letter will be his testimony.

I have seen the silly cycle of business and pleasure,

and have no use for any of it. I have enjoyed all the

pleasures of the world, and consequently know their

futility, and do not regret their loss. I appraise

them at their real value, which in truth is very low;

whereas those who lack experience always overrate them.

They only see their gay outside, and are dazzled with

their glare; but I have been behind the scenes. I have

seen all the coarse pulleys and dirty ropes which

exhibit and move the gaudy machine, and I have seen and

smelt the burning lard candles which illuminate the

whole decoration, to the astonishment and admiration of

the ignorant audience. When I reflect on what I have

seen, what I have heard, and what I have done, I cannot

persuade myself that all that frivolous hurried

movement and pleasure of the world had any reality. I

look on all that is past as one of those romantic

dreams which the drug opium can bring about, and I do

by no means wish to repeat the nauseous dose for the

sake of the evading dream.

These sentences speak for themselves. I need not add to them one

single word.

The Statesmen and Politicians who have swayed the destinies of

the world, ought by good right to be our last witnesses. But I

refrain, in Christian love, to bring them forward. It makes my

heart ache when I run my eye over the list of names famous in

history, and think how many have worn out their lives in a

breathless struggle after office and distinction. How many of

our greatest men have died of broken hearts--disappointed,

disgusted, and tried with constant failure! How many have left

on record some humbling confession that in the plenitude of their

power they were grieving for rest, as the caged eagle for

liberty! How many whom the world is applauding as "masters of

the situation," are in reality little better than galley-slaves,

chained to the oar and unable to get free! Yes, there are many

sad proofs, both among the living and the dead, that to be great

and powerful is not necessarily to be happy.

I think it very likely that men do not believe what I am saying.

I know something of the deceitfulness of the heart on the subject

of happiness. There are few things which man is slow to believe

as the truths I am now putting forth about the way to be happy.

Bear with me then while I say something more.

Come and stand with me some afternoon in the heart of the city of

London. Let us watch the faces of most of the wealthy men whom

we will see leaving their places of business at the close of the

day. Some of them are worth hundred of thousands: some of them

are worth millions. But what is written in the faces of these

grave men whom we see swarming out from the Bank of England and

the Stock Exchange? What is the meaning of those deep lines

which wrinkle so many a cheek and so many a brow? What is the

meaning of that air of anxious thoughtfulness which is worn by

five out of every six we meet? Yes, these things tell a serious

tale. They tell us that it needs something more than gold and

bank notes to make men happy.

Come next and stand with me near the Houses of Parliament, in the

middle of a busy session. Let us scan the faces of the

politicians, whose names are familiar and well-known all over the

civilized world. There you may see on some fine evening the

mightiest Statesmen in England hurrying to a debate, like eagles

to the carcass. Each has the power of good or evil in his tongue

which it is fearful to contemplate. Each may say things before

tomorrow's sun dawns, which may affect the peace and prosperity

of nations, and convulse the world. There you may see the men

who hold the reins of power and government already; there you may

see the men who are daily watching for an opportunity of

snatching those reins out of their hands, and governing in their

stead. But what do their faces tell us as they rush to their

posts? What may be read in many of their wrinkled foreheads--so

absent-looking and sunk in thought? They teach us a solemn

lesson. They teach us that it needs something more than

political greatness to make men happy.

Come next and stand with me in the most fashionable part of

London, in the height of the season. Let us visit Regent Street

or Pall Mall, Hyde Park or May Fair. How many beautiful faces

and splendid clothes we will see! How many we will count in an

hour's time who seem to possess the choicest gifts of this world-

-beauty, wealth, position, fashion, and a throng of friends. But

how few we will see who appear happy! In how many faces we will

read weariness, dissatisfaction, discontent, sorrow, or

unhappiness, as clearly as if it was written with a pen! Yes: it

is a humbling lesson to learn, but a very wholesome one. It

needs something more than position, and fashion, and beauty, to

make people happy.

Come next and walk with me through some quiet country village in

merry England. Let us visit some secluded corner, far away from

the great cities, and fashionable indulgence and political

strife. There are many such villages to be found in the land.

There are even rural places where there is neither street, nor

shop, nor bar--where there is work for all the laborers, and a

church for all the population, and a school for all the children,

and a minister of the gospel to look after the people. Surely,

you will say, we will find happiness here! Surely such places

must be the very abodes of peace and joy! Go into these quiet-

looking cottages, one by one, and you will soon be shocked.

Learn the inner history of each family, and you will soon alter

your mind. You will soon discover that backbiting, and lying,

and slandering, and envy, and jealousy, and pride, and laziness,

and drinking, and extravagance, and lust, and petty quarrels, can

murder happiness in the country quite as much as in the town. No

doubt a rural village sounds pretty in poetry, and looks

beautiful in pictures; but in sober reality human nature is the

same evil thing everywhere. Yes, it needs something more than a

residence in a quiet country village to make any child of Adam a

happy man!

I know these are ancient things. They have been said a thousand

times before without effect, and I suppose they will be said

without effect again. I want no greater proof of the corruption

of human nature than the determination with which we seek

happiness where happiness cannot be found. Century after century

wise men have left on record their experience about the way to be

happy. Century after century the children of men will declare

that they know the way to happiness perfectly well, and need no

teaching. They cast to the winds our warnings; they rush, every

one, on his own favorite path; they walk in a worthless shadow,

and trouble themselves in vain, and wake up when it is too late

to find that their whole life has been a great mistake. Their

eyes are blinded: they will not see that their visions are as

baseless and disappointing as the mirage of the African desert.

Like the tired traveler in those deserts, they think they are

approaching a lake of cooling waters; like the same traveler,

they find to their dismay that this imaginary lake was a splendid

optical delusion, and that they are still helpless in the midst

of burning sands.

Are you a young person? I implore you to accept the tender

warning of a minister of the Gospel, and not to seek happiness

where happiness cannot be found. Don't seek it in riches; don't

seek it in power and position; don't seek it in pleasure; don't

seek it in learning. All these are bright and splendid

fountains: their waters taste sweet. A crowd is standing around

them, which will not leave the, but oh, remember that God has

written over each of these fountains, "Everyone who drinks this

water will be thirsty again" (John 4:13). Remember this and you

will be wise.

Are you poor? Are you tempted to daydream that if you had the

rich man's place you would be quite happy? Resist the

temptation, and cast it behind you. Do not envy your wealthy

neighbors: be content with such things as you have. Happiness

does not depend on houses or land; silk and fine clothes cannot

shut out sorrow from the heart; mansions and villas cannot

prevent anxiety and care coming in through their doors. There is

as much misery riding and driving about in cars as there is

walking about on foot: there is as much unhappiness in elegant

houses as in humble cottages. Oh, remember the mistakes which

are common about happiness and be wise!

III. Let me now, in the last place, "point out the way to be

really happy."

There is a sure path which leads to happiness, if men will only

take it. There never lived a person who traveled in that path,

and missed the object that he sought to attain.

It is a path open to all. It needs neither wealth, nor position,

nor learning in order to walk in it. It is for the servant as

well as for the master: it is for the poor as well as for the

rich. None are excluded but those who exclude themselves.

Where is this path? Where is this road? Listen, and you will

hear.

The way to be happy is "to be a real, thorough-going true-hearted

Christian." Scripture declares it; experience proves it. The

converted man, the believer in Christ, the child of God--he, and

he alone, is the happy man.

It sounds too simple to be true: it seems at first sight so

simple a statement that it is not believed. But the greatest

truths are often the simplest. The secret which many of the

wisest on earth have utterly failed to discover, is revealed to

the humblest believer in Christ. I repeat it deliberately, and

defy the world to disprove it: the true Christian is the only

happy man.

What do I mean when I speak of a true Christian? Do I mean

everybody who goes to a church? Do I mean everybody who

professes an orthodox creed, and bows his head at the belief? Do

I mean everybody who professes to love the Gospel? No: indeed!

I mean something very different. All are not Christians who are

called Christians. The man I have in view is "the Christian in

heart and life." He who has been taught by the Spirit really to

feel his sins--he who really rests all his hopes on the Lord

Jesus Christ, and His payment for man's sins on the Cross--he who

has been born again and really lives a spiritual, holy life--he

whose religion is not merely a Sunday show, but a mighty

constraining principle governing every day of his life--he is the

man I mean, when I speak of a true Christian.

What do I mean when I say the true Christian is happy? Has he no

doubts and no fears? Has he no anxieties and no troubles? Has

he no sorrows and no cares? Does he never feel pain, and shed no

tears? Far be it from me to say anything of the kind. He has a

body weak and frail like other men; he has affections and

passions like every one born of a woman: he lives in a changing

world. But deep down in his heart he has a mine of solid peace

and substantial joy which is never exhausted. This is true

happiness.

Do I say that all true Christians are equally happy at all times?

No: not for a moment! All have their ebbs and flows of peace,

like the sea. Their bodily health is not always the same; their

earthly circumstances are not always the same; the souls of those

they love fill them at times with special anxiety: they

themselves are sometimes overtaken by a fault, and walk in

darkness. They sometimes give way to inconsistencies and

besetting sins, and lose their sense of forgiveness. But, as a

general rule the true Christian has a deep pool of peace within

him, which even at the lowest is never entirely dry.

I use the words, "as a general rule," advisedly. When a believer

falls into such a horrible sin as that of David [adultery and

murder], it would be monstrous to talk of his feeling inward

peace. If a man professing to be a true Christian talked to me

of being happy in such a case--before giving any evidence of the

deepest, most heart-abasing repentance--I should feel great

doubts whether he ever had any grace at all.

The true Christian is the only happy man, because "his conscience

is at peace." That mysterious witness for God, which is so

mercifully placed within us, is fully satisfied and at rest. It

sees in the blood of Christ a complete cleansing away of all its

guilt. It sees in the priesthood and mediation of Christ a

complete answer to all its fears. It sees that through the

sacrifice and death of Christ, God can now be just, and yet be

the justifier of the ungodly. It no longer bites and stings, and

makes its possessor afraid of himself. The Lord Jesus Christ has

amply met all its requirements. Conscience is no longer the

enemy of the true Christian, but his friend and adviser.

Therefore he is happy.

The true Christian is the only happy man, because he can "sit

down quietly and think about his soul." He can look behind him

and ahead of him, he can look within him and around him, and

feel, "All is well." He can think calmly on his past life, and

however many and great his sins, take comfort in the thought that

they are all forgiven. The righteousness of Christ covers all,

as Noah's flood covered the highest mountain. He can think

calmly about things to come, and yet not be afraid. Sickness is

painful; death is solemn; the judgment day is an awful thing: but

having Christ for him, he has nothing to fear. He can think

calmly about the Holy God, whose eyes are on all his ways, and

feel, "He is my Father, my reconciled Father in Christ Jesus. I

am weak; I am unprofitable: yet in Christ He regards me as His

dear child, and is well-pleased." Oh, what a blessed privilege

it is to be able to "think," and not be afraid! I can well

understand the mournful complaint of the prisoner in solitary

confinement. He had warmth, and food, and clothing, and work,

but he was not happy. And why? He said, "He was obliged to

think."

The true Christian is the only happy man, because "he has sources

of happiness entirely independent of this world." He has

something which cannot be affected by sickness and by deaths, by

private losses and public calamities--he has the "peace of God,

which transcends all understanding." He has a hope laid up for

him in Heaven; he has a treasure which moth and rust cannot

corrupt; he has a house which can never be torn down. His loving

wife may die, and his heart feel torn in two; his darling

children may be taken from him, and he may be left alone in this

cold world; his earthly plans may be crossed; his health may

fail; but all this time he has a part of him which can never be

hurt. He has a Friend who never dies; he has possessions beyond

the grave, of which nothing can deprive him: his springs of water

on this earth may dry up, but his springs of living water never

run dry. This is real happiness.

The true Christian is happy, because he is "in his right

position." All the powers of his being are directed to right

ends. His affections are not set on things here on earth, but on

things in heaven; his will is not bent on self-indulgence, but is

submissive to the will of God; his mind is not absorbed in

wretched perishable insignificant things. He desires useful

employment: he enjoys the luxury of doing good. Who does not

know the misery of disorder? The heart of an unconverted man is

like a house that is a mess. Grace puts everything in that heart

in its right position. The things of the soul come first, and

the things of the world come second. Anarchy and confusion

cease: unruly passions no longer do what seems right in their own

eyes. Christ reigns over the whole man, and each part of him

does his proper work. The new heart is the only real happy

heart, for it is the only heart that is in order. The true

Christian has found out his place. He has laid aside his pride

and self-will; he sits at the feet of Jesus, and is in his right

mind: he loves God and loves man, and so he is happy. In heaven

all are happy because all do God's will perfectly. The nearer a

man gets to this standard the happier he will be.

The plain truth is that without Christ there is no happiness in

the world. He alone can give the Comforter who abides forever.

He is the sun; without Him men never feel warm. He is the

light; without Him men are always in the dark. He is the bread;

without Him men are always starving. He is the living water;

without Him men are always thirsty. Give them what you like--

place them where you please--surround them with all the comforts

you can imagine--it makes no difference. Separate from Christ,

the Prince of Peace, a man cannot be happy.

Give a man a sensible interest in Christ, and he will be happy

"in spite of poverty." He will tell you that he wants nothing

that is really good. He is provided for: he has riches in

possession, and riches in restoration; he has meat to eat that

the world does not know of; he has friends who never leave him or

forsake him. The Father and the Son come to him, and make their

home with him: the Lord Jesus Christ has supper with him, and he

with Christ (Revelation 3:20).

Give a man a sensible interest in Christ, and he will be happy

"in spite of sickness." His flesh may groan, and his body be

worn out with pain, but his heart will rest and be at peace. One

of the happiest people I ever saw was a young woman who had been

hopelessly ill for many years with disease of the spine. She lay

in a attic without the warmth of a fire; the roof was less than

two feet above her face. She did not have the slightest hope of

recovery. But she was always rejoicing in the Lord Jesus. The

spirit triumphed mightily over the flesh. She was happy, because

Christ was with her.

Give a man a sensible interest in Christ, and he will be happy

"in spite of abounding public calamities." The government of his

country may be thrown into confusion, rebellion and disorder may

turn everything upside down, laws may be trampled underfoot;

justice and equity may be outraged; liberty may be cast down to

the ground; might may prevail over right: but still his heart

will not fail. He will remember that the kingdom of Christ will

one day be set up. He will say, like the old minister who lived

throughout the turmoil of the French revolution: "It is all

right: it will be well with the righteous."

I know well that Satan hates the doctrine which I am endeavoring

to press upon you. I have no doubt he is filling your mind with

objections and reasonings, and persuading you that I am wrong. I

am not afraid to meet these objections face to face. Let us

bring them forward and see what they are.

You may tell me that "you know many very religious people who are

not happy at all." You see them diligent in attending public

worship. You know that they are never missing at the Lord's

Supper. But you see in them no marks of the peace which I have

been describing.

But are you sure that these people you speak of are true

believers in Christ? Are you sure that, with all their

appearance of religion, they are born again and converted to God?

Isn't very likely that they have nothing but the name of

Christianity, without the reality; and a form of godliness,

without the power? Yes! you have yet to learn that people may do

many religious acts, and yet possess no saving religion! It is

not a mere formal, ceremonial Christianity that will ever make

people happy. We want something more than going to Church, and

going to the Lord's Table, to give us peace. There must be a

real, vital union with Christ. It is not the formal Christian,

but the true Christian, that is the happy man.

You may tell me that "you know really spiritually-minded and

converted people who do not seem happy." You have heard them

frequently complaining of their own hearts, and groaning over

their own weaknesses. They seem to you all doubts, and

anxieties, and fears; and you want to know where is the happiness

in these people of which I have been saying so much.

I do not deny that there are many saints of God such as these

whom you describe, and I am sorry for it. I allow that there are

many believers who live far below their privileges, and seem to

know nothing of the joy and peace in believing. But did you ever

ask any of these people whether they would give up their

Christianity, and go back to the world? Did you ever ask them,

after all their groanings, and doubtings, and fearings, whether

they think they would be happier if they ceased to follow after

Christ? "Did you ever ask those questions?" I am certain if you

did, that the weakest and lowest believers would all give you one

answer. I am certain they would tell you that they would rather

cling to their little scrap of Hope in Christ, than possess the

world. I am sure they would all answer, "Our faith is weak, if

we have any; our grace is small, if we have any; our joy in

Christ is next to nothing at all: but we cannot give up what we

have got. Though the Lord slay us, we must cling to Him." The

root of happiness lies deep in many a poor weak believer's heart,

when neither leaves nor blossoms are to be seen!

But you will tell me, in the last place, that "you cannot believe

most believers are happy, because they are so solemn and

serious." You think that they do not really possess this

happiness I have been describing, because their faces do not show

it. You doubt the reality of their joy, because it is so little

seen.

I might easily repeat what I told you at the beginning of this

paper--that a merry face is no sure proof of a happy heart. But

I will not do so. I will rather ask you whether you yourself

may not be the cause why believers look grave and serious when

you meet them? If you are not converted yourself, you surely

cannot expect them to look at you without sorrow. They see you

on the broad road to Hell, and that alone is enough to give them

pain: they see thousands like you, hurrying on to weeping and

wailing and endless torment. Now, is it possible that such a

daily sight should not give them grief? Your company, very

likely, is one cause why they are solemn. Wait till you are a

converted man yourself, before you pass judgment on the

seriousness of converted people. See them in companies where all

are of one heart, and all love Christ, and so far as my own

experience goes, you will find no people so truly happy as true

Christians.

I repeat my assertion in this part of my subject. I repeat it

boldly, confidently, deliberately. I say that there is no

happiness among men that will at all compare with that of the

true Christian. All other happiness compared to this is

moonlight compared to sunshine, and brass by the side of gold.

Boast, if you will, of the laughter and merriment of irreligious

men; sneer, if you will, at the concern and seriousness, which

appear in the demeanor of many Christians. I have looked the

whole subject in the face, and am not moved. I say that the true

Christian alone is the truly happy man, and the way to be happy

is to be a true Christian.

And now I am going to close this paper by a few words of plain

application. I have endeavored to expose the fallacy of many

views which prevail upon the subject. I have endeavored to point

out, in plain and unmistakable words, where true happiness alone

can be found. Permit me to close by an affectionate appeal to

the consciences of all who may read this paper.

(1) In the first place, "let me entreat every reader of this

paper to apply to his own heart the solemn question--Are you

happy?"

High position or low position, rich or poor, master or servant,

farmer or laborer, young or old, here is a question that deserves

an answer--"Are you really happy?"

Man of this world, who cares about nothing but the things of this

world, neglecting the Bible, making a god of business or money,

providing for everything but the day of judgment, scheming and

planning about everything but eternity: are you happy? "You know

that you are not."

Foolish woman, who is throwing life away in flippancy and

fickleness, spending hours after hours on that poor frail body

which must soon be fed to the worms, making an idol of dress and

fashion, and excitement, and human praise, as if this world was

all there was: are you happy? "You know that you are not."

Young man, who is bent on pleasure and self-indulgence,

fluttering from one idle pastime to another, like the moth about

the candle--fancying yourself clever and knowing, and too wise to

be led by preachers, and ignorant that the devil is leading you

captive, like the animal that is led to the slaughter: are you

happy? "You know that you are not."

Yes: each and all of you, you are not happy! And in your own

consciences you know it well. You may not admit it, but it is

sadly true. There is a great empty place in each of your hearts,

and nothing will fill it. Pour into it money, learning,

position, and pleasure, and it will still be empty. There is a

sore place in each of your consciences, and nothing will heal it.

Immorality can't; freethinking can't; Roman Catholicism can't;

they are all quack medicines. Nothing can heal it, but that

which at present you have not used--the simple Gospel of Christ.

Yes: you are indeed a miserable people!

Take warning this day, that you will never be happy till you are

converted. You might as well expect to feel the sun shine on

your face when you turn your back to it, as to feel happy when

you turn your back on God and on Christ.

(2) In the second place, "let me warn all who are not true

Christians of the folly of living a life which cannot make them

happy."

I pity you from the bottom of my heart, and eagerly persuade you

to open your eyes and be wise. I stand as a watchman on the

tower of the everlasting Gospel. I see you sowing misery for

yourselves, and I call upon you to stop and think, before it is

too late. Oh, that God may show you your folly!

You are hewing out for yourselves cisterns, broken cisterns,

which can hold no water. You are spending your time, and

strength, and affections on that which will give you no return

for your labor--"spending your money on that which is not bread,

and your labor for that which does not satisfy" (Isaiah 55:2).

You are building up Babels of your own contriving, and ignorant

that God will pour contempt on your schemes for procuring

happiness, because you attempt to be happy without Him.

Awake from your dreams, I beg you, and show yourselves men.

Think of the uselessness of living a life which you will be

ashamed of when you die, and of having a religion, in name only,

which will just fail you when it is most wanted.

Open your eyes and look around the world. Tell me who was ever

really happy without God and Christ and the Holy Spirit. Look at

the road in which you are traveling. Mark the footsteps of those

who have gone before you: see how many have turned away from it,

and confessed that they were wrong. I warn you plainly, that if

you are not a true Christian you will miss happiness in the world

that now is, as well as in the world to come. Oh, believe me,

the way of happiness, and the way of salvation are one and the

same! He that will have his own way, and refuses to serve

Christ, will never be really happy. But he that serves Christ

has the promise of both lives. He is happy on earth, and will be

happier still in heaven.

If you are neither happy in this world nor the next, it will be

all your own fault. Oh, think of this! Do not be guilty of such

enormous folly. Who does not mourn over the folly of the

drunkard, the drug addict, and the person who commits suicide?

But there is no folly like that of the unrepentant child of the

world.

(3) In the next place, "let me entreat all readers of this book,

who are not yet happy, to seek happiness where alone it can be

found."

The keys of the way to happiness are in the hands of the Lord

Jesus Christ. He is sealed and appointed by God the Father, to

give the bread of life to them that hunger, and to give the water

of life to them that thirst. The door which riches and position

and learning have so often tried to open, and tried in vain, is

now ready to open to every humble, praying believer. Oh, if you

want to be happy, come to Christ!

Come to Him, confessing that you are weary of your own ways, and

want rest--that you find you have no power and might to make

yourself holy or happy or fit for heaven, and have no hope but in

Him. [Believe and Trust in Christ, Repent of your sins, and

Submit to His Lordship] Tell Him this unreservedly. This is

coming to Christ.

Come to Him, imploring Him to show you His mercy, and grant you

His salvation--to wash you in His own blood, and take your sins

away--to speak peace to your conscience, and heal your troubled

soul. Tell Him all this unreservedly. This is coming to Christ.

You have everything to encourage you. The Lord Jesus Himself

invites you. He proclaims to you as well as to others, "Come to

Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.

Take my yoke upon you and learn from me; for I am gentle and

humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my

yoke is easy and my burden is light" (Matthew 11:28-30). Wait

for nothing. You may feel unworthy. You may feel as if you did

not repent enough. But wait no longer. Come to Christ.

You have everything to encourage you. Thousands have walked in

the way you are invited to enter, and have found it good. Once,

like yourself, they served the world, and plunged deeply into

folly and sin. Once, like yourself, they became weary of their

wickedness, and longed for deliverance and rest. They heard of

Christ, and His willingness to help and save: they came to Him by

faith and prayer, after many a doubt and hesitation; they found

Him a thousand times more gracious than they had expected. They

rested on Him and were happy: they carried His cross and tasted

peace. Oh, walk in their steps!

I implore you, by the mercies of God, to come to Christ. If you

ever hope to be happy, I entreat you to come to Christ. Do not

delay. Awake from your sleep: arise and be free! This day come

to Christ.

(4) In the last place, "let me offer a few hints to all true

Christians for the increase and promotion of their happiness."

I offer these hints with reluctance. I desire to apply them to

my own conscience as well as to yours. You have found Christ's

service happy. I have no doubt that you feel such sweetness in

Christ's peace that you would desire to know more of it. I am

sure that these hints deserve attention.

Believers, if you would have an increase of happiness in Christ's

service, "labor every year to grow in grace." Beware of standing

still. The holiest men are always the happiest. Let your aim be

every year to be more holy--to know more, to feel more, to see

more of the fullness of Christ. Do not rest on old grace: do not

be content with the degree of Christianity which you have

attained. Search the Scriptures more earnestly; pray more

fervently; hate sin more; mortify self-will more; become more

humble the nearer you draw to your end; seek more direct personal

communion with the Lord Jesus; strive to be more like Enoch--

daily walking with God; keep your conscience clear of little

sins; grieve not the Spirit; avoid arguments and disputes about

the lesser matters of religion: lay more firm hold upon those

great truths, without which no man can be saved. Remember and

practice these things, and you will be more happy.

Believers, if you would have an increase of happiness in Christ's

service, "labor every year to be more thankful." Pray that you

may know more and more what it is to "rejoice in the Lord"

(Philippians 3:1). Learn to have a deeper sense of your own

wretched sinfulness and corruption, and to be more deeply

grateful, that by the grace of God you are what you are. Yes,

there is too much complaining and too little thanksgiving among

the people of God! There is too much murmuring and poring over

the things that we don't have. There is too little praising and

blessing for the many undeserved mercies that we have. Oh that

God would pour out upon us a great spirit of thankfulness and

praise!

Believers, if you would have an increase of happiness in Christ's

service, "labor every year to do more good." Look around the

circle in which you live your life, and determine to be useful.

Strive to be of the same character with God: He is not only good,

but "does good" (Psalm 119:68). Alas there is far too much

selfishness among believers in the present day! There is far to

much lazy sitting by the fire nursing our own spiritual diseases,

and growling over the state of our own hearts. Get up; and be

useful in your day and generation! Is there no one in all the

world that you can read the Bible to? Is there no one that you

can speak to about Christ? Is there no one that you can write to

about Christ? Is there literally nothing that you can do for the

glory of God, and the benefit of your fellow-men? Oh I cannot

think it! I cannot think it. There is much that you might do,

if you had only the will. For your own happiness' sake, arise

and do it, without delay. The bold, outspoken, working

Christians are always the happiest. The more you do for God, the

more God will do for you.

The compromising lingering Christian must never expect to taste

perfect peace. THE MOST ENERGETIC CHRISTIAN WILL ALWAYS BE THE

HAPPIEST MAN.