cut." And such an operation cannot be happiness: for such an
operation is an action and a perfection, not of the agent, but rather
of the patient, as is stated in the same passage. The other is an
action that remains in the agent, such as to feel, to understand, and
to will: and such an action is a perfection and an act of the agent.
And such an operation can be happiness.

Reply Obj. 4: Since happiness signifies some final perfection;
according as various things capable of happiness can attain to
various degrees of perfection, so must there be various meanings
applied to happiness. For in God there is happiness essentially;
since His very Being is His operation, whereby He enjoys no other
than Himself. In the happy angels, the final perfection is in respect
of some operation, by which they are united to the Uncreated Good:
and this operation of theirs is one only and everlasting. But in men,
according to their present state of life, the final perfection is in
respect of an operation whereby man is united to God: but this
operation neither can be continual, nor, consequently, is it one
only, because operation is multiplied by being discontinued. And for
this reason in the present state of life, perfect happiness cannot be
attained by man. Wherefore the Philosopher, in placing man's
happiness in this life (Ethic. i, 10), says that it is imperfect, and
after a long discussion, concludes: "We call men happy, but only as
men." But God has promised us perfect happiness, when we shall be "as
the angels . . . in heaven" (Matt. 22:30).

Consequently in regard to this perfect happiness, the objection fails:
because in that state of happiness, man's mind will be united to God
by one, continual, everlasting operation. But in the present life, in
as far as we fall short of the unity and continuity of that operation
so do we fall short of perfect happiness. Nevertheless it is a
participation of happiness: and so much the greater, as the operation
can be more continuous and more one. Consequently the active life,
which is busy with many things, has less of happiness than the
contemplative life, which is busied with one thing, i.e. the
contemplation of truth. And if at any time man is not actually engaged
in this operation, yet since he can always easily turn to it, and
since he ordains the very cessation, by sleeping or occupying himself
otherwise, to the aforesaid occupation, the latter seems, as it were,
continuous. From these re