God hath suited every creature He hath made with a convenient good to
which it tends, and in the obtainment of which it rests and is
satisfied. Natural bodies have all their own natural place, whither,
if not hindered, they move incessantly till they be in it; and they
declare, by resting there, that they are (as I may say) where they
would be. Sensitive creatures are carried to seek a sensitive good, as
agreeable to their rank in being, and, attaining that, aim no further.
Now, in this is the excellency of Man, that he is made capable of a
communion with his Maker, and, because capable of it, is unsatisfied
without it: the soul, being cut out (so to speak) to that largeness,
cannot be filled with less. Though he is fallen from his right to that
good, and from all right desire of it, yet, not from a capacity of it,
no, nor from a necessity of it, for the answering and filling of his
capacity.
Though the heart once gone from God turns continually further away
from Him, and moves not towards Him till it be renewed, yet, even in
that wandering, it retains that natural relation to God, as its
centre, that it hath no true rest elsewhere, nor can by any means find
it. It is made for Him, and is therefore still restless till it meet
with Him.
It is true, the natural man takes much pains to quiet his heart by
other things, and digests many vexations with hopes of contentment in
the end and accomplishment of some design he hath; but still the heart
misgives. Many times he attains not the thing he seeks; but if he do,
yet he never attains the satisfaction he seeks and expects in it, but
only learns from that to desire something further, and still hunts on
after a fancy, drives his own shadow before him, and never overtakes
it; and if he did, yet it is but a shadow. And so, in running from
God, besides the sad end, he carries an interwoven punishment with his
sin, the natural disquiet and vexation of his spirit, fluttering to
and fro, and _finding no rest for the sole of his foot_; the _waters_
of inconstancy and vanity _covering the whole face of the earth_.
These things are too gross and heavy. The soul, the immortal soul,
descended from heaven, must either be more happy, or remain miserable.
The Highest, the Increated Spirit, is the proper good, _the Father of
Spirits_, that pure and full good which raises the soul above itself;
whereas all other things draw it down below itself. So, then, it is
never well with the soul but when it is near unto God, yea, in its
union with Him, married to Him: mismatching itself elsewhere, it hath
never anything but shame and sorrow. _All that forsake Thee shall be
ashamed_, says the Prophet, Jer. xvii. 13; and the Psalmist, _They
that are far off from thee shall perish_, Psalm lxxiii. 27. And this
is indeed our natural miserable condition, and it is often expressed
this way, by estrangedness and distance from God.
The same sentiments are to be found in the works of Pagan philosophers
and moralists. Well then may they be made a subject of Reflection in
our days. And well may the pious deist, if such a character now
exists, reflect that Christianity alone both teaches the way, and
provides the means, of fulfilling the obscure promises of this great
Instinct for all men, which the Philosophy of boldest pretensions
confined to the sacred few.