Works of John Bunyan — Volume 01

Chapter 182

Chapter 1824,174 wordsPublic domain

1. How many thousands rush into the presence of God with unholy, thoughtless familiarity, by repeating the form called the Lord’s prayer. His infinite holiness should make us tremblingly apply to his throne of grace. In the name of the Redeemer, and in his mediation alone, the sinner can find access, and be emboldened to draw nigh and receive grace to help in our everyday time of need.—Ed.

2. ‘Though the phrase, “throne of grace,” be only once named in the Bible, yet the thing signified is so savoury, significant, and suitable, that this form of speaking is become famous among Christians, and will be used to the end of time.’—Traill.—Ed.

3. This is an allusion to Jeremiah 18:1-10 the potter and his wheel, upon which he forms his vessels of clay to honour or to dishonour as he pleaseth. So God worketh all things according to his will, all tending to the good of his church, because his resting-place is the mercy-seat.—Ed.

4. Quoted from the Genevan or puritan version.—Ed.

5. ‘Grace was poured so plentifully from heaven, that it did not only countervail sin, but above measure passeth it.’ Note to the Genevan Bible.—Ed.

6. Not by the person or body, but mentally. It matters little whether the body is sitting, kneeling, or standing; riding, walking, or lying down; the throne of grace is equally accessible, if the spirit is prostrate before it—the spontaneous effusions of the soul in sighs or groans, or joyful exclamations, or the pouring forth of heart-felt words; but all must be under a sense of the mediation of Jesus.—Ed.

7. Smutches or smudges. ‘And with a kind of amber smirch my 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).