face.’—Shakespeare.—Ed.
8. ‘In all our distresses, infirmities, and darkness in this world, we
should get up to that mountain of myrrh and hill of frankincense,
Canticles 4:6;—the passion of Christ, which was bitter like myrrh; and
to the intercession of Christ, which is sweet like incense.’—Dr.
Bates.—Ed.
9. How dreadful for a sinner to enter upon a way, expecting it to be a
living way to life and happiness, and find it the dead way to death and
eternal destruction. O my soul, try thy way, and, by the assistance of
the Holy Spirit, ascertain whether it is the living way to everlasting
life, or the dead way to eternal misery.—Ed.
10. Such was the opinion of naturalists in the olden time, Bartolomeus,
on the properties of things, thus speaks of goats’ blood—‘The goat’s
hot blood neshethe (softeneth) and carveth the hard ardamant stone,
that neither fire nor iron may overcome.’ Book 18 cap. 60.—Ed.
11. What laid the cornerstone of this throne, but grace? What brings in
the inhabitants, preserves them, perfects them, but grace?—Traill.
‘Grace all the work shall crown,
Thro’ everlasting days;
It lays in heaven the topmost stone,
And well deserves the praise.’—Rippon.
12. Perfectly impressed upon their memories.—Ed.
13. From the Genevan version.—Ed.
14. Bunyan here refers to the marginal note in the Genevan bible,
Exodus 30. The high priest’s washing ‘signifying that he that cometh to
God must be washed from all sin and corruption.’—Ed.
15. This sea was full of pure water, a figure of the word, without
mixture of men’s inventions. See the typical meaning of the molten sea
and the laver, fully explained and illustrated by Bunyan, in Solomon’s
Temple Spiritualized of this edition.—Ed.
16. Our first lesson is of sin, righteousness, and judgment; second,
Christ’s obedience unto death for our salvation; third, Christ ascended
to God’s right hand, the Mediator and Advocate. Thus the bitter comes
before the sweet, to make the sweet the sweeter.—Ed.
17. Alluding to these destructive operations of nature, the whirlwind
and the whirlpool, the first whirling fancies that Christ saves from
the punishment, and not from the power of sin, takes them from the
gospel hope, and the second receives them into the vortex of misery. O
my soul, be watchful unto prayer at a throne of grace, for who can
withstand the whirlpool if once within its influence?—Ed.
18. To see the fulness and freeness of the treasures of grace in
Christ—to see that we must partake of it or perish—to be looking unto
Jesus the author and finisher of our faith, are indeed powerful
incentives to keep us near the throne of grace.—Ed.
19. Probably a frightful military saying heard by Bunyan, when serving
in the debauched army of Charles I, from some of Prince Rupert’s
cavaliers.—Ed.
20. How much this paragraph reminds us of the experience of poor
Christian in his fearful battle with the fiend! ‘In this combat no man
can imagine, unless he had seen and heard as I did, what yelling and
hideous roaring Apollyon made all the time of the fight—he spake like a
dragon; and, on the other side, what sighs and groans burst from
Christian’s heart. I never saw him, all the while, give so much as one
pleasant look, till he perceived he had wounded Apollyon with his
two-edged sword; then, indeed, he did smile and look upward; but it was
the dreadfullest fight that ever I saw.’—Ed.
21. ‘Spaked’; marked with small spots.—Ed.
22. Instituted, inducted, or installed.—Ed.
23. Exposed to violence—blindfolded or hoodwinked.—Ed.
24. Protestants can have little idea of the idolatry used in the Church
of Rome. Something may be gathered from the following directions, given
in a very beautiful office for Good Friday, corrected by royal
authority, in conformity with the breviary and missal of our holy
father Pope Urban VIII, printed at Paris by Posset:—
‘The priest having retired a little behind the altar, the deacon takes
the cross (a plain wooden cross without the figure), covered with a
veil, and gives it to the priest, who turns to the people and shows the
top of the cross, before which they all prostrate themselves and kiss
the ground, singing Ecce lignum crucis. He then removes the veil from
the right limb of the cross, and lifts it up, singing, still louder,
Behold the wood of the cross; again the people prostrate themselves.
The priest then comes to the middle of the altar, and taking off the
veil, exhibits the wooden cross to be adored; then setting it down, he
goes on his knees, and rising, takes off his shoes and approaches the
cross to worship it, making three genuflections, and kisses it. All the
clergy who are present take off their shoes, prostrate themselves,
worship and kiss the cross in the order of their dignity. All the
officers of the church, and all the people, follow in the same manner
to adore it, while solemn music and chanting attends and completes the
ceremony.’ Thus a wooden board, made into the shape of a cross by some
joiner, receives Divine honours. Talk not of heathen idols. Who can
wonder that honest John Bunyan felt indignation, and exclaimed, ‘O
idolatry! O blasphemy!’—Ed.
25. An extraneous taste that leaves a sting behind, as, ‘She had a
tongue with a tang.’ ‘The wine has a tang of the cask.’—Ed.
26. This use of the word ‘resent’ has been long obsolete; it expressed
a deep sense or strong perception of good as well as evil; in this
place it means, ‘proved to have been satisfactory or gratifying.’—Ed.
27. How sublime is the Christian system, in its adaptation to all God’s
intelligent creatures! So lovely in its simplicity, that the child—nay,
even the poor Bushman of Africa, or the half-idiot native of New South
Wales—is able readily to comprehend how God, for Christ’s sake, can
blot out all iniquities and transgressions; while the noblest intellect
admires and adores its vast and extensive ramifications of mercies.
Blessings numerous and unbounded are developed, reaching, in their
ultimate effects, far beyond the utmost stretch of human perception,
even when the most brilliant imagination is enlightened and sanctified
by the Holy Ghost. The intentions of mercy commence in the purposes of
God before the creation—are infinite in extent—and eternal in duration.
How is Divine wisdom and mercy thus displayed in the adaptation of the
gospel to the personal inquiry and reception of every individual of the
human race!—Ed.
28. The beginning, increase, and perfection of life eternal, consists
in holy knowledge; that God and Christ are of the same nature, equal in
power and glory. As Christ is the most excellent object, therefore the
knowledge of Christ is, and must be the most excellent knowledge; not
only all the excellencies of the creatures are found in him, but all
excellencies, yea, the fulness of the Godhead, dwells in him bodily.
All learning, in comparison of the knowledge of Christ, is the most
contemptible ignorance. He is the wisdom of God, and our highest wisdom
will be, with holy Paul, to part with whatever is most dear and
precious to us, that we may win Christ, receiving him as he is revealed
in the word of truth.—Mason.
29. Power of exercising affection and feeling.—Ed.
30. Bunyan’s daughter, Mary, was blind, and thus became an object of
his tenderest solicitude. When he was sent to prison for preaching, he
felt for her far more than for all other worldly objects. ‘My poor
blind child. O the thoughts of the hardship she might go under would
break my heart to pieces.’—Grace Abounding, No. 320 and 329.—Ed.
31. It is a stupendous and unspeakably blessed privilege that Christ
and believers are one flesh. Husband and wife, soul and body, are not
so closely united as Christ and believers are to each other. He has
carried their sorrows, borne their punishment, and procured complete
redemption for them. And eternal blessings on him! he now ever liveth
in heaven to act and intercede for them. He there exercises a tender
and compassionate spirit towards his suffering children and servants
here on earth. His love and pity to every individual of his church,
infinitely exceeds that of the most affectionate parent towards their
offspring. Our extremity is his opportunity—he is touched with the
feeling of our infirmities, will give consolation under, sanctify, and
at length deliver the godly out of all temptations and
afflictions.—Mason.
32. As this is Satan’s temptation in the time of poverty, so the time
of prosperity is equally dangerous—the love of gain, when it possesses
the soul, is insatiable. Satan whispers into the ear, and the heart too
readily entertains the wicked thought—‘Get money; if you cannot do it
honestly, still get money.’ The most contemptible meannesses have been
practised by the wealthy. O beware of that ruinous idolatry,
covetousness.—Ed.
33. Query, is this that part of a Christian’s experience referred to in
the Pilgrim’s Progress, the second part of the Valley of the Shadow of
Death?—Ed.
34. No man could speak more experimentally on the pain inflicted by
slander, although utterly unfounded, than John Bunyan. So eminent a man
became a mark for Satan and his emissaries to shoot at. He was charged
with witchcraft, called a highwayman, and every slander that malice
could invent was heaped upon him. His remedy, his consolation, was the
throne of grace—a specific that never did, nor ever will fail.—Ed.
35. The late Rev. John Newton, who lived to a good old age, in his
latter days used to tell his friends—‘I am like a parcel, packed up and
directed, only waiting the carrier to take me to my destination’;
blessed tranquility under such solemn circumstances.—Ed.
36. This is illustrated by the account of Hopeful’s experience in the
Pilgrim’s Progress; he says, ‘If I look narrowly into the best of what
I do now, I still see sin, new sin, mixing itself with the best of that
I do; so that now I am forced to conclude, that, notwithstanding my
former fond conceits of myself and duties, I have committed sin enough
IN ONE DUTY to send me to hell, though my former life had been
faultless.’—Ed.
37. Grace, mercy, peace, justification, sanctification, and
glorification, all flow from Christ the propitiatory sacrifice, in
whom, as his beloved, the Father accepts us graciously, and loves us
freely.—Mason.
38. Spiritual strength, like bodily food, must be renewed day by day.
The necessity of daily food for our bodies should remind us of that
bread that cometh down from heaven, and that water of life which, as a
river, maketh glad the city of our God. ‘As oft as ye do this,’ eat and
drink, ‘ye do show the Lord’s death.’ O that such a recollection may
have an abiding influence upon our souls!—Ed.
39. In those days travellers did well to advance as far in a day as we
now do in an hour. To make a country tour, required then the same
precautions, as to supplies, as it now does to make the grand tour of
Europe. To have carried coin would have been a great encumbrance, as
well as risk from robbers. How accurately Bunyan knew the mode used in
such cases to secure supplies, and with what beautiful simplicity it is
spiritualized.—Ed.
40. How truly and solemnly is the downward road of a sinner here
portrayed. 1. Drawn aside by lust. 2. A lie to conceal his wicked
folly. 3. Intoxication, to drown his convictions and harden his
conscience. 4. The consequent ruin of his worldly prospects; and, 5. A
vain effort by fraud to keep up his credit!!!—Ed.
41. It was in Bunyan’s time the universally received opinion that Satan
appeared in the shape of animals to allure poor wretches into
sin—Shakespeare, Judge Hale, Cotton Mather, Baxter, with all our
eminent men, believed in these supernatural appearances.—Ed.
THE ACCEPTABLE SACRIFICE;
OR,
THE EXCELLENCY OF A BROKEN HEART:
SHOWING THE NATURE, SIGNS, AND PROPER EFFECTS OF A CONTRITE SPIRIT.
BEING THE LAST WORKS OF THAT EMINENT PREACHER AND FAITHFUL MINISTER OF
JESUS CHRIST, MR. JOHN BUNYAN, OF BEDFORD.
WITH A PREFACE PREFIXED THEREUNTO BY AN EMINENT MINISTER OF THE GOSPEL
IN LONDON.
London: Sold by George Larkin, at the Two Swans without Bishopgates,
1692.
ADVERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOR.
The very excellent preface to this treatise, written by George Cokayn,
will inform the reader of the melancholy circumstances under which it
was published, and of the author’s intention, and mode of treatment.
Very little more need be said, by way of introducing to our readers
this new edition of Bunyan’s Excellency of a Broken Heart. George
Cokayn was a gospel minister in London, who became eventually connected
with the Independent denomination. He was a learned man—brought up at
the university—had preached before the House of Commons—was chaplain to
that eminent statesman and historian, Whitelocke—was rector of St.
Pancras, Soper Lane—remarkable for the consistency of his conduct and
piety of his life—but as he dared not to violate his conscience, by
conformity to ceremonies or creeds which he deemed antichristian, he
suffered under persecution, and, with upwards of two thousand godly
ministers, was ejected from his living, and thrown upon the care of
Divine Providence for daily food. The law ordered him to be silent, and
not to set forth the glories of his Saviour; but his heavenly Father
had ordained him to preach. There was no hesitation as to whom he would
obey. At the risk of imprisonment, transportation, and death, he
preached; and God honoured his ministry, and he became the founder of a
flourishing church in Hare Court, London. His preface bears the date of
September, 1688; and, at a good old age, he followed Bunyan to the
celestial city, in 1689. It is painful to find the author’s Baptist
friends keeping aloof because of his liberal sentiments; but it is
delightful to witness the hearty affection with which an Independent
minister recommends the work of a Baptist; and truly refreshing to hear
so learned a man commending most earnestly the work of a poor,
unlettered, but gigantic brother in the ministry. Surely there is water
enough connected with that controversy to quench any unholy fire that
differences of opinion might ignite. George Cokayn appears to have
possessed much a kindred spirit with John Bunyan. Some of his
expressions are remarkably Bunyanish. Thus, when speaking of the
jailor, ‘who was a most barbarous, hard-hearted wretch; yet, when God
came to deal with him, he was soon tamed, and his heart became
exceeding soft and tender.’ And when alluding to the Lord’s voice, in
softening the sinner’s heart, he says: ‘This is a glorious work indeed,
that hearts of stone should be dissolved and melted into waters of
godly sorrow, working repentance.’
The subject of a broken heart is one of vital importance, because it is
essential to salvation. The heart, by nature, is hard, and cannot, and
will not break itself. Angels have no power to perform this miracle of
mercy and of justice. It is the work of the Holy Spirit in the NEW
BIRTH. Some have supposed that God always prepares the heart for this
solemn, this important change, by a stroke of his providence; but it is
not so. Who dares limit the Almighty? He takes his own way with the
sinner—one by a whisper, another by a hurricane. Some are first alarmed
by the preaching of the Word—many by conversation with a pious friend
or neighbour; some by strokes of Providence—but all are led to a
prayerful searching of the holy oracles, until there, by the
enlightening influence of the Spirit, they find consolation. The great
question is, not as to the means, but the fact—Have I been born again?
Have I been grafted into Christ? Do I bring forth the fruits of
godliness in mourning over my sins, and, in good words and works, am I
a living epistle known and read of all—men, angels, devils—and of the
Omniscient God? These are the all-important inquiries which, I trust,
will deeply influence every reader. Let two of Bunyan’s remarks make an
indelible impression on every mind: ‘God will break ALL hearts for sin,
either here to repentance and happiness, or in the world to come to
condemnation and misery.’ ‘Consider thou must die but once; I mean but
once as to this world, for if thou, when thou goest hence, dost not die
well, thou canst not come back again and die better.’ May our spirits
be baptized into these solemn truths, and our broken hearts be an
acceptable sacrifice to God.
GEO. OFFOR.
A PREFACE TO THE READER.
The author of the ensuing discourse—now with God, reaping the fruit of
all his labour, diligence, and success, in his Master’s service—did
experience in himself, through the grace of God, the nature,
excellency, and comfort of a truly broken and contrite spirit. So that
what is here written is but a transcript out of his own heart: for
God—who had much work for him to do—was still hewing and hammering him
by his Word, and sometimes also by more than ordinary temptations and
desertions. The design, and also the issue thereof, through God’s
goodness, was the humbling and keeping of him low in his own eyes. The
truth is, as himself sometimes acknowledged, he always needed the thorn
in the flesh, and God in mercy sent it him, lest, under his
extraordinary circumstances, he should be exalted about measure; which
perhaps was the evil that did more easily beset him than any other. But
the Lord was pleased to overrule it, to work for his good, and to keep
him in that broken frame which is so acceptable unto him, and
concerning which it is said, that ‘He healeth the broken in heart, and
bindeth up their wounds’ (Psa 147:3). And, indeed, it is a most
necessary qualification that should always be found in the disciples of
Christ, who are most eminent, and as stars of the first magnitude in
the firmament of the church. Disciples, in the highest form of
profession, need to be thus qualified in the exercise of every grace,
and the performance of every duty. It is that which God doth
principally and more especially look after, in all our approaches and
accesses to him. It is to him that God will look, and with him God will
dwell, who is poor, and of a contrite spirit (Isa 57:15, 66:2). And the
reason why God will manifest so much respect to one so qualified, is
because he carries it so becomingly towards him. He comes and lies at
his feet, and discovers a quickness of sense, and apprehensiveness of
whatever may be dishonourable and distasteful to God (Psa 38:4). And if
the Lord doth at any time but shake his rod over him, he comes
trembling, and kisses the rod, and says, ‘It is the Lord; let him do
what seemeth him good’ (1 Sam 3:18). He is sensible he hath sinned and
gone astray like a lost sheep, and, therefore, will justify God in his
severest proceedings against him. This broken heart is also a pliable
and flexible heart, and prepared to receive whatsoever impressions God
shall make upon it, and is ready to be moulded into any frame that
shall best please the Lord. He says, with Samuel, ‘Speak, Lord, for thy
servant heareth’ (1 Sam 3:10). And with David, ‘When thou saidst, Seek
ye my face; my heart said unto thee, Thy face, Lord, will I seek’ (Psa
27:8). And so with Paul, who tremblingly said, ‘Lord, what wilt thou
have me to do?’ (Acts 9:6).
Now, therefore, surely such a heart as this is must needs be very
delightful to God. He says to us, ‘My son, give me thine heart’ (Prov
23:26). But, doubtless, he means there a broken heart: an unbroken
heart we may keep to ourselves; it is the broken heart which God will
have us to give to him; for, indeed, it is all the amends that the best
of us are capable of making, for all the injury we have done to God in
sinning against him. We are not able to give better satisfaction for
breaking God’s laws, than by breaking our own hearts; this is all that
we can do of that kind; for the blood of Christ only must give the due
and full satisfaction to the justice of God for what provocations we
are at any time guilty of; but all that we can do is to accompany the
acknowledgments we make of miscarriages with a broken and contrite
spirit. Therefore we find, that when David had committed those two foul
sins of adultery and murder, against God, he saw that all his
sacrifices signified nothing to the expiating of his guilt; therefore
he brings to God a broken heart, which carried in it the best
expression of indignation against himself, as of the highest respect he
could show to God (2 Cor 7:11).
The day in which we live, and the present circumstances which the
people of God and these nations are under, do loudly proclaim a very
great necessity of being in this broken and tender frame; for who can
foresee what will be the issue of these violent fermentations that are
amongst us? Who knows what will become of the ark of God? Therefore it
is a seasonable duty with old Eli to sit trembling for it. Do we not
also hear the sound of the trumpet, the alarm of wars; and ought we
not, with the prophet, to cry out, ‘My bowels, my bowels! I am pained
at my very heart; my heart maketh a noise in me, I cannot hold my
peace,’ &c. (Jer 4:19). Thus was that holy man affected with the
consideration of what might befall Jerusalem, the temple and ordinances
of God, &c., as the consequence of the present dark dispensations they
were under. Will not a humble posture best become us when we have
humbling providences in prospect? Mercy and judgment seem to be
struggling in the same womb of providence; and which will come first
out we know not; but neither of them can we comfortably meet, but with
a broken and a contrite spirit. If judgment comes, Josiah’s posture of
tenderness will be the best we can be found in; and also to say, with
David, ‘My flesh trembleth for fear of thee, and I am afraid of thy
judgments’ (Psa 119:120). It is very sad when God smites, and we are
not grieved; which the prophet complains of, ‘Thou hast stricken them,
but they have not grieved,’ &c. ‘They have made their faces harder than
a rock, they have refused to return’ (Jer 5:3).
But such as know the power of his anger will have a deep awe of God
upon their hearts, and, observing him in all his motions, will have the
greatest apprehensions of his displeasure. So that when he is coming
forth in any terrible dispensation, they will, according to their duty,
prepare to meet him with a humble and broken heart. But if he should
appear to us in his goodness, and farther lengthen out the day of our
peace and liberty, yet still the contrite frame will be most
seasonable; then will be a proper time, with Job, to abhor ourselves in
dust and ashes, and to say, with David, ‘Who am I that thou hast
brought me hitherto’! (Job 42:6; 2 Sam 7:18).
But we must still know that this broken tender heart is not a plant
that grows in our own soil, but is the peculiar gift of God himself. He
that made the heart must break the heart. We may be under
heart-breaking providences, and yet the heart remain altogether
unbroken; as it was with Pharaoh, whose heart, though it was under the
hammers of ten terrible judgments, immediately succeeding one another,
yet continued hardened against God. The heart of man is harder than
hardness itself, till God softeneth and breaks it. Men move not, they
relent not, let God thunder never so terribly; let God, in the greatest
earnest, cast abroad his firebrands, arrows, and death, in the most
dreadful representations of wrath and judgment, yet still man trembles
not, nor is any more astonished than if in all this God were but in
jest, till he comes and falls to work with him, and forces him to cry
out, What have I done? What shall I do?
Therefore let us have recourse to him, who, as he gives the new heart,
so also therewith the broken heart. And let men’s hearts be never so
hard, if God comes once to deal effectually with them, they shall
become mollified and tender; as it was with those hardened Jews who, by
wicked and cruel hands, murdered the Lord of life: though they stouted
it out a great while, yet how suddenly, when God brought them under the
hammer of his Word and Spirit, in Peter’s powerful ministry, were they
broken, and, being pricked in their hearts, cried out, ‘Men and
brethren, what shall we do?’ (Acts 2:37).