appetite. The will cannot direct its motion to anything under the
notion of evil, evil in itself, or evil to it; whatsoever courts it
must present itself in the quality of a good in its own nature, or
in its present circumstances to the present state and condition of
the desire; it will not else touch or affect the will. This is the
language of that faculty: “Who will show me any good?” (Ps. iv. 6),
and good is as inseparably the object of the will’s motion, as truth is
of the understanding’s inquiry. Whatsoever a man would allure another
to comply with, he must propose to the person under the notion of some
beneficialness to him in point of honor, profit, or pleasure. To act
after this manner is the proper character of a rational creature; and
though that which is evil is often embraced instead of that which is
good, and what we entertain as conducing to our felicity proves our
misfortune, yet that is from our ignorance, and not from a formal
choice of it as evil; for what evil is chosen it is not possible to
choose under the conception of evil, but under the appearance of a good,
though it be not so in reality. It is inseparable from the wills of all
men to propose to themselves that which in the opinion and judgment of
their understandings or imagination is good, though they often mistake
and cheat themselves.
(2.) Since that good is the object of a rational appetite, the purest,
best, and most universal good, such as God is, ought to be most sought
after. Since good only is the object of a rational appetite, all the
motions of our souls should be carried to the first and best good: a
real good is most desirable; the greatest excellency of the creatures
cannot speak them so, since, by the corruption of man, they are
“subjected to vanity” (Rom. viii. 20). God is the most excellent good
without any shadow; a real something without that nothing which every
creature hath in its nature (Isa. xl. 17). A perfect good can only
give us content: the best goodness in the creature is but slender and
imperfect; had not the venom of corruption infused a vanity into it,
the make of it speaks it finite, and the best qualities in it are
bounded, and cannot give satisfaction to a rational appetite which
bears in its nature an imitation of Divine infiniteness, and therefore
can never find an eternal rest in mean trifles. God is above the
imperfection of all creatures; creatures are but drops of goodness, at
best but shallow streams; God is like a teeming ocean, that can fill
the largest as well as the narrowest creek. He hath an accumulative
goodness; several creatures answer several necessities, but one God
can answer all our wants: he hath an universal fulness, to overtop
our universal emptiness: he contains in himself the sweetness of all
other goods, and holds in his bosom plentifully what creatures have in
their natures sparingly. Creatures are uncertain goods; as they begin
to exist, so they may cease to be; they may be gone with a breath, they
will certainly languish if God blows upon them (Isa. xl. 24): the same
breath that raised them can blast them; but who can rifle God of the
least part {b346} of his excellency? Mutability is inherent in the
nature of every creature, as a creature. All sublunary things are as
gourds, that refresh us one moment with their presence, and the next
fret us with their absence; like fading flowers, strutting to‑day, and
drooping to‑morrow (Isa. xl. 6): while we possess them, we cannot clip
their wings, that may carry them away from us, and may make us vainly
seek what we thought we firmly held. But God is as permanent a good as
he is a real one: he hath wings to fly to them that seek him, but no
wings to fly from them forever, and leave them. God is an universal
good; that which is good to one may be evil to another; what is
desirable by one maybe refused as inconvenient for another: but God
being an universal, unstained good, is useful for all, convenient to
the natures of all but such as will continue in enmity against him.
There is nothing in God can displease a soul that desires to please him;
when we are in darkness, he is a light to scatter it; when we are in
want, he hath riches to relieve us; when we are in spiritual death, he
is a Prince of life to deliver us; when we are defiled, he is holiness
to purify us: it is in vain to fix our hearts anywhere but on him, in
the desire of whom there is a delight, and in the enjoyment of whom
there is an inconceivable pleasure.
(3.) He is most to be sought after, since all things else that are
desirable had their goodness from him. If anything be desirable because
of its goodness, God is much more desirable because of his, since all
things are good by a participation, and nothing good but by his print
upon it: as what being creatures have was derived to them by God, so
what goodness they are possessed with they were furnished with it by
God; all goodness flowed from him, and all created goodness is summed
up in him. The streams should not terminate our appetite without
aspiring to the fountain. If the waters in the channel, which receive
mixture, communicate a pleasure, the taste of the fountain must be
much more delicious; that original Perfection of all things hath an
inconceivable beauty above those things it hath framed. Since those
things live not by their own strength, nor nourish us by their own
liberality, but by the “word of God” (Matt. iv. 4), that God that
speaks them into life, and speaks them into usefulness, should be most
ardently desired as the best. If the sparkling glory of the visible
heavens delight us, and the beauty and bounty of the earth please and
refresh us, what should be the language of our souls upon those views
and tastes but that of the Psalmist, “Whom have I in heaven but thee?
and there is none upon earth that I can desire beside thee” (Ps. lxxiii.
25). No greater good can possibly be desired, and no less good should
be ardently desired. As he is the supreme good, so we should bear that
regard to him as supremely, and above all, to thirst for him: as he is
good, he is the object of desire; as the choicest and first goodness,
he is desirable with the greatest vehemency. “Give me children, or
else I die” (Gen. xxx. 1), was an uncomely speech; the one was granted,
and the other inflicted; she had children, but the last cost her her
life: but, Give me God, or I will not be content, is a gracious speech,
wherein we cannot miscarry; all that God demands of us is, that we
should long for him, and look for our happiness only in {b347} him.
That is the first thing, endeavor after the enjoyment of God as good.
2. Often meditate on the goodness of God. What was man produced for,
but to settle his thoughts upon this? What should have been Adam’s
employment in innocence, but to read over all the lines of nature,
and fix his contemplations on that good hand that drew them? What
is man endued with reason for, above all other animals, but to take
notice of this goodness spread over all the creatures, which they
themselves, though they felt it, could not have such a sense of as to
make answerable returns to their Benefactor? Can we satisfy ourselves
in being spectators of it, and enjoyers of it, only in such a manner as
the brutes are? The beasts behold things as well as we, they feel the
warm beams of this goodness as well as we, but without any reflection
upon the Author of them. Shall Divine blessings meet with no more from
us but a brutish view and beholding of them? What is more just, than to
spend a thought upon Him who hath enlarged his hand in so many benefits
to us? Are we indebted to any more than we are to him? Why should we
send our souls to visit anything more than him in his works? That we
are able to meditate on him is a part of his goodness to us, who hath
bestowed that capacity upon us; and, if we will not, it is a great part
of our ingratitude. Can anything more delightful enter into us, than
that of the kind and gracious disposition of that God who first brought
us out of the abyss of an unhappy nothing, and hath hitherto spread
his wings over us? Where can we meet with a nobler object than Divine
goodness? and what nobler work can be practised by us than to consider
it? What is more sensible in all the operations of his hands than his
skill, as they are considered in themselves, and his goodness, as they
are considered in relation to us? It is strange that we should miss
the thoughts of it; that we should look upon this earth, and everything
in it, and yet overlook that which it is most full of, _viz._ Divine
goodness (Ps. xxxiii. 5); it runs through the whole web of the world;
all is framed and diversified by goodness; it is one entire single
goodness, which appears in various garbs and dresses in every part of
the creation. Can we turn our eyes inward, and send our eyes outward,
and see nothing of a Divinity in both worthy of our deepest and
seriousest thoughts? Is there anything in the world we can behold,
but we see his bounty, since nothing was made but is one way or other
beneficial to us? Can we think of our daily food, but we must have
some reflecting thoughts on our great Caterer? Can the sweetness of
the creature to our palate obscure the sweetness of the Provider to our
minds? It is strange that we should be regardless of that wherein every
creature without us, and every sense within us and about us, is a tutor
to instruct us! Is it not reason we should think of the times wherein
we were nothing, and from thence run back to a never‑begun eternity,
and view ourselves in the thoughts of that goodness, to be in time
brought forth upon this stage, as we are at present? Can we consider
but one act of our understandings, but one thought, one blossom, one
spark of our souls mounting upwards, and not reflect upon the goodness
of God to us, who, in that faculty that {b348} sparkles out rational
thoughts, has advanced us to a nobler state, and endued us with a
nobler principle, than all the creatures we see on earth, except those
of our own rank and kind? Can we consider but one foolish thought, one
sinful act, and reflect upon the guilt and filth of it, and not behold
goodness in sparing us, and miracles of goodness in sending his Son
to die for us, for the expiation of it? This perfection cannot well be
out of our thoughts, or at least it is horrible it should, when it is
writ in every line of the creation, and in a legible rubric, in bloody
letters, in the cross of his Son. Let us think with ourselves, how
often he hath multiplied his blessings, when we did deserve his wrath!
how he hath sent one unexpected benefit upon the heel of another, to
bring us with a swift pace the tidings of good‑will to us! how often
hath he delivered us from a disease that had the arrows of death in its
hand ready to pierce us! how often hath he turned our fears into joys,
and our distempers into promoters of our felicity! how often hath he
mated a temptation, sent seasonable supplies in the midst of a sore
distress, and prevented many dangers which we could not be so sensible
of, because we were, in a great measure, ignorant of them! How should
we meditate upon his goodness to our souls, in preventing some sins,
in pardoning others, in darting upon us the knowledge of his gospel,
and of himself, in the face of his Son Christ! This seems to stick much
upon the spirit of Paul, since he doth so often sprinkle his epistles
with the titles of the “grace of God, riches of grace, unsearchable
riches of God, riches of glory,” and cannot satisfy himself, with the
extolling of it. Certainly, we should bear upon our heart a deep and
quick sense of this perfection; as it was the design of God to manifest
it, so it would be acceptable to God for us to have a sense of it: a
dull receiver of his blessings is no less nauseous to him than a dull
dispenser of his alms; he loves a “cheerful giver” (2 Cor. ix. 7); he
doth himself what he loves in others; he is cheerful in giving, and
he loves we should be serious in thinking of him, and have a right
apprehension and sense of his goodness.
(1.) A right sense of his goodness would dispose us to an ingenuous
worship of God. It would damp our averseness to any act of religion;
what made David so resolute and ready to “worship towards his holy
temple” but the sense of his “loving kindness?” (Ps. cxxxviii. 2). This
would render him always in our mind a worthy object of our devotion,
a stable prop of our confidence. We should then adore him, when we
consider him as “our God,” and ourselves as “the people of his pasture,
and the sheep of his hand” (Ps. xcv. 7): we should send up prayers with
strong faith and feeling, and praises with great joy and pleasure. The
sense of his goodness would make us love him, and our love to him would
quicken our adoration of him; but if we regard not this, we shall have
no mind to think of him, no mind to act anything towards him; we may
tremble at his presence, but not heartily worship him; we shall rather
look upon him as a tyrant, and think no other affection due to him than
what we reserve for an oppressor, _viz._ hatred and ill‑will.
(2.) A sense of it will keep us humble. A sense of it would effect
{b349} that for which itself was intended; _viz._ bring us to a
repentance for our crimes, and not suffer us to harden ourselves
against him. When we should deeply consider how he hath made the sun
to shine upon us, and his rain to fall upon the earth for our support;
the one to supple the earth, and the other to assist the juice of it
to bring forth fruits; how would it reflect upon us our ill requitals,
and make us hang down our heads before him in a low posture, pleasing
to him, and advantageous to ourselves! What would the first charge be
upon ourselves, but what Moses brings in his expostulation against the
Israelites (Deut. xxxii. 6): “Do I thus requite the Lord?” What is this
goodness for me, who am so much below him; for me, who have so much
incensed him; for me, who have so much abused what he hath allowed?
It would bring to remembrance the horror of our crimes, and set
us a blushing before him, when we should consider the multitude of
his benefits, and our unworthy behaviour, that hath not constrained
him even against the inclination of his goodness, to punish us: how
little should we plead for a further liberty in sin, or palliate our
former faults! When we set Divine goodness in one column, and our
transgressions in another, and compare together their several items,
it would fill us with a deep consciousness of our own guilt, and divest
us of any worth of our own in our approaches to him; it would humble
us, that we cannot love so obliging a God as much as he deserves to be
loved by us; it would make us humble before men. Who would be proud of
a mere gift which he knows he hath not merited? How ridiculous would
that servant be, that should be proud of a rich livery, which is a
badge of his service, not a token of his merit, but of his master’s
magnificence and bounty, which, though he wear this day, he may be
stripped of to‑morrow, and be turned out of his master’s family!
(3.) A sense of the Divine goodness would make us faithful to
him. The goodness of God obligeth us to serve him, not to offend him;
the freeness of his goodness should make us more ready to contribute
to the advancement of his glory. When we consider the benefits of a
friend proceed out of kindness to us, and not out of self ends and vain
applause, it works more upon us, and makes us more careful of the honor
of such a person. It is a pure bounty God hath manifested in creation
and providence, which could not be for himself, who, being blessed
forever, wanted nothing from us: it was not to draw a profit from us,
but to impart an advantage to us; “Our goodness extends not to him” (Ps.
xvi. 2). The service of the benefactor is but a rational return for
benefits; whence Nehemiah aggravates the sins of the Jews (Neh. ix. 35):
“They have not served thee in thy great goodness that thou gavest them;”
_i. e._ which thou didst freely bestow upon them. How should we dare
to spend upon our lusts that which we possess, if we considered by
whose liberality we came by it? how should we dare to be unfaithful in
the goods he hath made us trustees of? A deep sense of Divine goodness
will ennoble the creature, and make it act for the most glorious and
noble end; it would strike Satan’s temptation dead at a blow; it would
pull off the false mask and vizor from what he presents to us, to draw
us from the service of our Benefactor; we could not, with a {b350}
sense of this, think him kinder to us than God hath, and will be, which
is the great motive of men to join hands with him, and turn their backs
upon God.
(4.) A sense of the Divine goodness would make us patient under our
miseries. A deep sense of this would make us give God the honor of his
goodness in whatsoever he doth, though the reason of his actions be
not apparent to us, nor the event and issue of his proceedings foreseen
by us. It is a stated case, that goodness can never intend ill, but
designs good in all its acts “to them that love God” (Rom. viii. 28):
nay, he always designs the best; when he bestows anything upon his
people, he sees it best they should have it; and when he removes
anything from them, he sees it best they should lose it. When we have
lost a thing we loved, and refuse to be comforted, a sense of this
perfection, which acts God in all, would keep us from misjudging our
sufferings, and measuring the intention of the hand that sent them,
by the sharpness of what we feel. What patient, fully persuaded of the
affection of the physician, would not value him, though that which is
given to purge out the humors, racks his bowels? When we lose what we
love, perhaps it was some outward lustre tickled our apprehensions,
and we did not see the viper we would have harmed ourselves by; but God
seeing it, snatched it from us, and we mutter as if he had been cruel,
and deprived us of the good we imagined, when he was kind to us, and
freed us from the hurt we should certainly have felt. We should regard
that which in goodness he takes from us, at no other rate than some
gilded poison and lurking venom; the sufferings of men, though upon
high provocations, are often followed with rich mercies, and many times
are intended as preparations for greater goodness. When God utters that
rhetoric of his bowels, “How shall I give thee up, O Ephraim, I will
not execute the fierceness of my anger!” (Hos. xi. 8), he intended them
mercy in their captivity, and would prepare them by it, to walk after
the Lord. And it is likely the posterity of those ten tribes were the
first that ran to God, upon the publishing the gospel in the places
where they lived; he doth not take away himself when he takes away
outward comforts; while he snatcheth away the rattles we play with,
he hath a breast in himself for us to suck. The consideration of his
goodness would dispose us to a composed frame of spirit. If we are sick,
it is goodness, it is a disease, and not a hell. It is goodness, that
it is a cloud, and not a total darkness. What if he transfers from us
what we have? he takes no more than what his goodness first imparted
to us; and never takes so much from his people as his goodness leaves
them: if he strips them of their lives, he leaves them their souls, with
those faculties he furnished them with at first, and removes them from
those houses of clay to a richer mansion. The time of our sufferings
here, were it the whole course of our life, bears not the proportion of
a moment to that endless eternity wherein he hath designed to manifest
his goodness to us. The consideration of Divine goodness would teach
us to draw a calm even from storms, and distil balsam from rods. If the
reproofs of the righteous be an excellent oil (Ps. cxlv. 5), {b351} we
should not think the corrections of a good God to have a less virtue.
(5.) A sense of the Divine goodness would mount us above the world. It
would damp our appetites after meaner things; we should look upon the
world not as a God, but a gift from God, and never think the present
better than the Donor. We should never lie soaking in muddy puddles
were we always filled with a sense of the richness and clearness of
this Fountain, wherein we might bathe ourselves; little petty particles
of good would give us no content, when we were sensible of such an
unbounded ocean. Infinite goodness, rightly apprehended, would dull our
desires after other things, and sharpen them with a keener edge after
that which is best of all. How earnestly do we long for the presence of
a friend, of whose good will towards us we have full experience.
(6.) It would check any motions of envy: it would make us joy in the
prosperity of good men, and hinder us from envying the outward felicity
of the wicked. We should not dare with an evil eye to censure his good
hand (Matt. xx. 15), but approve of what he thinks fit to do, both
in the matter of his liberality and the subjects he chooseth for it.
Though if the disposal were in our hands, we should not imitate him,
as not thinking them subjects fit for our bounty; yet since it is in
his hands, we be to approve of his actions and not have an ill will
towards him for his goodness, or towards those he is pleased to make
the subject of it. Since all his doles are given to “invite man to
repentance” (Rom. ii. 4), to envy them those goods God hath bestowed
upon them, is to envy God the glory of his own goodness, and them the
felicity those things might move them to aspire to; it is to wish God
more contracted, and thy neighbor more miserable: but a deep sense of
his sovereign goodness would make us rejoice in any marks of it upon
others, and move us to bless him instead of censuring him.
(7.) It would make us thankful. What can be the most proper, the most
natural reflection, when we behold the most magnificent characters he
hath imprinted upon our souls; the conveniency of the members he hath
compacted in our bodies, but a praise of him? Such motion had David
upon the first consideration: “I will praise thee, for I am fearfully
and wonderfully made” (Ps. cxxxix. 14). What could be the most natural
reflection, when we behold the rich prerogatives of our natures above
other creatures, the provision he hath made for us for our delight in
the beauties of heaven, for our support in the creatures on earth? What
can reasonably be expected from uncorrupted man, to be the first motion
of his soul, but an extolling the bountiful hand of the invisible
donor, whoever he be? This would make us venture at some endeavors
of a grateful acknowledgment, though we should despair of rendering
anything proportionable to the greatness of the benefit; and such an
acknowledgment of our own weakness would be an acceptable part of our
gratitude. Without a due and deep sense of Divine goodness, our praise
of it, and thankfulness for it, will be but cold, formal, and customary;
our tongues may bless him, and our heart slight him: and this will lead
us to the third exhortation: