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).