Invisibles, realities: demonstrated in the holy life and triumphant death of Mr. John Janeway, ... By James Janeway, ...

Table of contents

- [titlepage]

- The Testimony of Mr. Samuel Borset, sometime Fellow of King's College in Cambridge, and a very intimate Acquaintance of Mr. John Janeway's.

- The Testimony of Mr. Marmaduke Tennant, some time Minister of Tharfield in Hartfordshire, an intimate Acquaintance of Mr. John Janeway's, and one that was a constant Visiter of him in his Sickness, and an Eye and Ear-witness of the most substantial Things in this ensuing Narrative.

- Mr. James Janeway's Epistle to the Reader.

- CHAP. I. An Account of him from his Childhood to the seventeenth year of his Age.

- CHAP. II. Of his Conversion, with visible Proofs of it.

- CHAP. III. His Carriage when Fellow of the College, at Twenty Years of Age.

- CHAP. IV. His Particular Addresses to his Brethren, for their Souls Gooddand the Success thereof.

- CHAP. V. His great Love to, and Prequency in the Duty of Prayer: With remarkable Success.

- CHAP. VI. His Care of Mother and other Relations after his Father's Death.

- CHAP. VII. His return to King's College after his Father's Death. His holy Projects for Christ and Souls.

- CHAP. VIII. His Departure from the College, to live in Dr. Cox's Family.

- CHAP IX. His Retire into the Country; and his first Sickness.

- CHAP. X. His Exhortation to some of his Friends.

- CHAP. XI. His Temptations from Satan.

- CHAP XII. Ministers not to carry on low Designs.

- CHAP. XIII. His Love and Compassion to Souls.

- CHAP. XIV. His Trouble at the Barrenness of Christians.

- CHAP. XV. Two Letters to cement Differences, and cause Love among Christians.

- CHAP. XVI. An Account of the latter Part of his Life.

- CHAP. XVII. His last Sickness and Death.

- The CONTENTS.

Invisibles, Realities, demonstrated in the holy Life and Triumphant Death of Mr. John Janeway, sometime Fellow of Kings College, Cambridge.

Invisibles, Realities, Demonstrated in the HOLY LIFE AND Triumphant Death OF Mr. JOHN JANEWAY, Fellow of King's College in CAMBRIDGE.

By JAMES JANEWAY, Minister of the GOSPEL.

THE EIGHTH EDITION.

GLASGOW: Printed by JOHN BRYCE, and Sold at his Shop in the Salt-market. 1772.

The Testimony of Mr. Samuel Borset, sometime Fellow of King's College in Cambridge, and a very intimate Acquaintance of Mr. John Janeway's.

Beloved Friends,

MY own esteem of the single weight of that Testimony expected from me concerning my dear brother, on the account of my intimacy with him in King's College (the known memorable passages of whose exemplary life and death are now happily compiled and published for your special perusal) moves me to call in a twofold recommendation thereof from you to those that knew him not, who, being confirmed in the truth of this narrative, may thereby be won to believe, admire, and emulate the signal grace of God in him.

1. That remembring so much thereof yourselves, and what opportunity I had of knowing the certainty of all, you would assure those who may enquire of you. That the impartial compiler hath kept within the bounds of truth and sobriety in prosecution of his honest aims, to advance the glory of God's rich mercy to this chosen vessel, and by reviving what remains he could collect of this burning as well as shining light (alas, how soon extinct! to awaken and quicken the formal professors, if he may not induce the profane scoffer of this age to a more serious study, and improvement of those invisible realities, the clear evidence and powerful influence whereof our good friend did so abundantly experience. The truth is, the transcriber (though best accomplished, and most inwardly acquainted with what might conduce thereto) doth not but fall short of declaring the transcendent excellencies of this sublime soul and precious saint, which (till toward his end, when his heart was too full to hold in what could be uttered) were much concealed even to those who knew him best, by reason of his great humility and modesty. These disposed him rather to receive than communicate, except where he had no expectation of the former, and either familiar intercourse engaged, or the apprehending exigency of those his heart was drawn out to in Christian love and compassion, constrained to the latter. Yet many of those precious streams that did flow from him we must lament the loss of, through default of careful receivers or faithful retainers. He was of clear intellectuals, and a large heart, both for craving and comprehending what was worthy his pursuit: Which being happily improved by his education, and timely seasoned with a spiritual favour of gospel-mysteries (for obtaining of which he had then, with others, choice advantages) was a great help to his proficiency in acquaintance with the vital exercises and soul-satisfying enjoyments of the divine life, above not only his equals, but seniors and instructors. He was much dissatisfied with himself under any decays or abatements, till he could (if not alone, by imploring the assistance of Christian friends) recover what he sometime had had such sweet experience of. And, not content with any attainments, was still pressing unto what his prospect in the promises, encouraged by his happy prelibation assured him was attainable. He was to this end a chearful embracer and diligent improver of spiritual opportunity, exact in his Christian watch much wrestling (and very prevalent) with God in prayer, and with himself in his solitudes, striving to disentangle his heart from what might divert his holy ambition, and to raise it to the highest activity and capacity for glorifying and enjoying God in Christ, for the excellency of the knowledge of whom he accounted all inferior attainments but loss. What he had tasted and seen, he was grieved to see others neglect, desirous to bring others to experience, by earnestly commending them to God, designing with himself, contriving with hi spiritual confidence what might conduce thereto.

He had a true sympathy with those that were bound with him heaven ward. Their pressures and conflicts were his burden; his prayers and counsels their ready assistants; their refreshments his revivings, and their spiritual proficiency his joy.

He was a secret and compassionate mourner; as in general for the world's degeneracy, pretended Christians unthankfulness for the gospel, the hazard run by innumerable precious souls; so especially for the dreadful apostasies of some, the then threatning decay and growing formality of others, sometime seemingly forwards; which brought him nigher to God, and more inflamed his holy zeal. But this chiefly was carried out to advance the power of religion in the families and persons he was peculiarly related to; apprehending there to lay his best opportunities, as well as strongest obligations. And his success was very encouraging.

This is part of what I knew of him at Cambridge, who refer you, for farther reviving your remembrance, to the narrative. But both his spiritual receipts and experiences were much increased the two last years of his life, when I had not opportunity of personal converse with him. And by reason of our distance (and at that time ignorance of his weak condition) I was not so happy as to share in the privilege of those who had the conveniency of receiving his last and sweetest breath. Though I soon after had the account (while things were fresh in their memories, and warm on their hearts) from the eye and ear-witnesses, that some of them have now been induced to make more public. But next and chiefly:

2. I intreat you to recommend the truth of this narrative, by your faithful adhering to, and diligent promoting of, what some of you learned from him, and others professed with him; that by intimating his good example, and improving his experiences with your longer opportunities, you may be such proficients in Christianity, as shining like lights yourselves, to hold forth the word of life for convincing the incredulous: That the mysteries of regeneration, a life of faith in Christ, the fruitful improvement of union and communion with him to a prospicious conformity to him, crucifixion to the world by his cross, and a conversation with him in heaven while on earth (therein proposed, herein exemplified) be no figments, but great realities; no slight matters, but of greatest consequence; not such singularities, but that others according to their measures, taking the like course, may be experimentally acquainted with the surpassing sweetness of an interest therein. And the rather am I bold to intreat this of you, because I was privy to his soul's concern for the concernment of your souls; how passionately he desired to see Christ formed in you, and rejoiced at any evidence thereof; how earnestly he would pray for you all, and especially for those he had more occasion to deal with, or cause to be jealous of; how affected he was with your dangers and snares; and what a desire he had you might outstrip himself, who could not take up his rest on this side heaven. The good Lord help every one of us to shew the same diligence to the full assurance of hope to the end, that we may not be slothful, but followers of them who by faith and patience inherit the promises.

I have one farther request, That you would pursue by your most earnest supplications the design of publishing this narrative, that God would make it prosperous to the pious ends therein proposed, and for which I hope by his providence it is reserved now for public view. Especially, that it may provoke to holy emulation, not only those who were more peculiarly endeared to our precious friend by natural or spiritual bonds (and that, if any of these be fallen from their first love, they may be excited to repent, to do their first works, and strengthen the things that remain; lest, having begun in the spirit, they wretchedly end in the flesh, and draw back to perdition) but also some at least of them that succeed in the chambers and studies, which sometimes were sanctified with the word and prayer, by those that singly and jointly (as chamber-fellows and colleagues) earnestly implored the divine benediction on those two royal foundations he was member of: That the God of the spirits of all flesh would make them fruitful nurseries of such as might be eminent instruments of God's glory here, and turning many to righteousness might shine as the stars for ever and ever. Wherein you may expect the hearty concurrence of

Your real friend, SAMUEL BORSET.

The Testimony of Mr. Marmaduke Tennant, sometime Minister of Tharfield in Hartfordshire, an intimate Acquaintance of Mr. John Janeway's, and one that was a constant Visiter of him in his Sickness, and an Eye and Ear-witness of the most substantial Things in this ensuing Narrative.

Christian Reader,

I Can assure thee from my own knowledge, that this Mr. John Janeway was an excellent person, in respect of his natural parts, acquired gifts, and divine graces, wherewith his heavenly Father adorned him, considering his age, even far above the ordinary rate of the best sort of scholars and Christians. All which he exceedingly improved for the good of others (especially his near relations) both in health and sickness, even to the last hour of his life. And, when the immediate fore-runners of death were upon him, he so acted faith and hope, so lively, judiciously, and composedly, (without the least shew of human frailty) as if with bodily eyes he saw the holy angels standing before him, ready to receive and carry his precious soul into his Father's glory. Verily he was most lovely in his life, and yet more lovely at his death; the like I never beheld neither before nor since. And I doubt not but the serious consideration of this narrative of his life and death will (through God's blessing) beget a zealous imitation of this saint indeed, in every good Christian who reads the same: Which that it may do, is the hearty prayer of thy friend in the Lord Jesus,

Marmaduke Tennant, Minister of the Gospel.

Mr. James Janeway's Epistle to the Reader.

Christian Reader,

WHEN I seriously consider how much atheism and impiety abounds; and see how sensual delights are pursued, and religion in its power is rejected, as a dull, sad, and unpleasant thing; when I see zeal described as unnecessary, and few acting in the things of God, as if they were indeed matters of the highest consequence, reality, and suhstance, the greatest profit, and sweetest pleasure; I could not but do what in me lies to rectify these dismal mistakes, and justify wisdom from the imputation of folly, and demonstrate even to sense the transcendent excellency and reality of invisibles. The prosecution of which design I could not more effectually manage, than by the presenting this ensuing narrative to the world. As for the truth of it, if the solemn testimony of several ministers (who were eye and ear witnesses of the most substantial things here presented) may be credited, here thou hast two of them. As for myself, I think I had as great advantage to acquaint myself with the secret practices of this precious saint, as any one could well have; besides my dearest intimacy, and special observation and perusal of his papers, I had a long account from his own mouth upon his death-bed of his secret and constant practice, and his experiences And let me tell you, the half is not told you; for the treachery of my memory hath not a little injured thee and him. Had this work been done exactly, I am persuased it might have been of singular use to the world. In some places I could not justly word it in his phrase; but I assure thee thou hast the matter and substance. The weakness of the relator is no small disadvantage to the subject; but I might a little excuse this, by telling thee, that I think that none living had the same opportunity in all things to do this work as I had. I might also tell you, that some reverend, learned, and holy men, whose authority and request I could not deny, put me upon it. And I was not altogether without some hopes of drawing some to the love and liking of religion, that had not only been strangers to the life and power of it, but it may be had entertained deep prejudices against it; and of quickning of others, that had lost their former vigour; and encouraging some that were too ready to go on heavily and desponding. If I may succeed in this, I shall adore the goodness of God, and praise him with the strength of my soul. That I may be subservient to the Lord in promoting the true interest of religion, I beg thy fervent and constant prayers; and that every one that readeth may imitate and experience all, and so be filled with grace and peace, is the prayer of yours in his dearest Lord,

JAMES JANEWAY.

CHAP. I. An Account of him from his Childhood to the seventeenth year of his Age.

MR. John Janeway was born anno 1633. Octob. 27. of religious parents in Tylly in the county of Hertford. He soon gave his parents the hope of much comfort, and the symptoms of something more than ordinary quickly appeared in him, so that some who saw this child much feared that his life would be but short, others hoped that God had some rare piece of work to do by or for this child before he died; he shewed that neither of them were much mistaken in their conjecture concerning him. He soon out-ran his superiors for age in learning. And it was thought by no incompetent judges that for pregnancy of wit, solidity of judgment, the vastness of his intellectuals, and the greatness of his memory, that he had no superiors, few equals considering his age and education.

He was initiated in the Latin tongue by his own father; afterward he was brought up for some time at Paul's school in London, where he made a considerable proficiency in Latin and Greek under the care of Mr. Langly. When he was about eleven years old he took a great fancy to arithmetic and the Hebrew tongue.

About this time his parents removing into a little village called Aspoden, had the opportunity of having this their son instructed, by a learned neighbour, who was pleased to count it a pleasant diversion, to read mathematics to him being then about twelve years old; and he made such progress in those profound studies; that he read Oughtred with understanding, before he was thirteen years old. A person of quality, hearing of the admirable proficiency of this boy, sent for him up to London, and kept him with him for some time, to read mathematics to him; that which made him the more to be admired was, that he did what he did with the greatest facility, He had no small skill in music and other concomitants of mathematics.

In the year 1646. he was chosen by that learned gentleman Mr. Rous the provost of Eton colledge, one of the foundation of that school, being examined by provost and posiers in the Hebrew tongue, which was thought was beyond president. Where he gave no unsuitable returns to the high expectations that were conceived of him.

After a little continuance at Eton he obtained leave of his master to go to Oxford to perfect himself in the study of mathematics, where being owned by that great scholar Dr. Ward, one of the professors of the university, he attained to a strange exactness in that study, nothing being within the reach of a man but he would undertake and grasp. That great doctor gave him great help and encouragement, and looked upon him as one of the wonders of his age, loved him dearly, and could for some time after his death scarce mention his name without tears. When he had spent about a quarter of a year with Dr. Ward at Oxford, he was commanded to return again to Eton, where he soon gave proof of his great improvement of his time while he was absent; by making an almanac, and calculating of the eclipses for many years before-hand; so that by this time he had many eyes upon him as the glory of the school. That which put an accent upon his real worth was, that he did not discover the least affectation or self-conceit, neither did any discernable pride attend these excellencies. So that every one took more notice of his parts than himself.

At about seventeen years old he was chosen to King's colledge in Cambridge, at which time the electioners did even contend for the patronage of this scholar. He was chosen first that year, and an elder brother of his in the sixth place; but he was very willing to change places with his elder brother; letting him have the first, and thankfully accepting of the sixth place.

Besides his great learning, and many other ornaments of nature, his deportment was so sweet and lovely, his demeanour so courteous and obliging, even when he seemed unconverted, that he must be vile with a witness that did not love him. Yea, many of them who had little kindness for morality, much less for grace; could not but speak well of him. His great wisdom and learning did even command respect, where they did not find it: he had an excellent power over his passions, and was in a great measure free from the vices which usually attend such an age and place.

But all this while it is to be feared, that he understood little of the worth of Christ, and his own soul; he studied indeed the heavens, and knew the motion of the sun, moon, and stars, but that was his highest; he thought yet but little of God, who made all these things, he pried but little into the motions of his own heart; he did not as yet much busy himself, in the serious observation of the wandering spirit; the creature had not yet led him to the Creator; but was still too ready to take up with mere speculation But God, who from all eternity had chosen him to be one of those, who should shine as the sun in the firmament for ever in glory; did when he was about eighteen years old, shine in upon his soul with power; and did convince him what a poor thing it was to know so much of the heavens and never come there. And that the greatest knowledge in the world without Christ, was but an empty dry business. He now thought Mr. Bolton had some reason on his side, when he said; ‘Give me the most magnificent glorious worldling, that ever trod upon earthly mould, richly crowned with all the ornaments and excellencies of nature, art, policy, preferment; or what heart can wish besides; yet without the life of grace, to animate and enoble them; he were to the eye of heavenly wisdom, but as a rotten carcase, stuck over with flowers; magnified dung, gilded rottenness, golden damnation.’ He began now to be of Anaxagoras's mind, that his work upon earth, was to study heaven, and to get thither, and that except a man might be admitted to greater preferment than this world can bestow upon her favourites, it were scarce worth the while to be born.

CHAP. II. Of his Conversion, with visible Proofs of it.

THE great work of conversion, it was not carried on upon his soul, in that dreadful manner, that it is upon some, that God intends to communicate much to, and make great use of; but the Lord was pleased, sweetly to unlock his heart, by the exemplary life, and heavenly and powerful discourse, of a young man in the colledge, whose heart God had inflamed with love to his soul, he quickly made an attempt upon this hopeful young man, and the Spirit of God did set home his counsels with such power, that they proved effectual, for his awakening; being accompanied with the preaching of these two famous worthies, Dr. Hill and Dr. Arrowsmith, together with the reading several parts of Mr. Baxter's saint's everlasting rest.

Now a mighty alteration might easily be discerned in him, he quickly looks quite like another man. He is now so much taken up with things above the moon and stars, that he had little leisure to think of these things only as they pointed higher. He began now not to taste so much sweetness in those kind of studies, which he did so greedily imploy himself in formerly: He now began to pity them who were curious in their inquiries after every thing but that which is most needful to be known, Christ and themselves, and that which sometimes was his gain, he now counted loss for Christ, yea, doubtless, he esteemed all things but as dung and dross in comparison of Christ, and desired to know nothing but Christ and him crucified. Not that he looked upon human learning as useless: but when fixed below Christ and not improved for Christ; he looked upon wisdom as folly, and learning as madness, and that which would make one more like the devil, more fit for his service, and put a greater accent upon their misery in another world.

Mr. Janeway now begins to cast about how he might best improve what he did already know, and to turn all his studies into the right channel; grace did not take him off from, but made him more diligent and spiritual in his study. And now Christ was at the end and bottom of every thing; how did he plot and contrive how he might most express his love and thankfulness to him who had brought him out of darkness into his marvellous light; to this end he sent up and down packets of divine letters, in which he did discourse so substantially and experimentally of the great things of God, that it would not at all have unbecome some grey head to have owned what he did write.

He was not a little like young Elihu, whose words he used to excuse his freedom with persons of years, whose souls he did dearly pity. He said, Days should speak, and multitude of years should teach wisdom, but there is a spirit in a man, and the inspiration of the Almighty giveth them understanding; I am full of matter, the spirit within me constraineth me, behold my belly is as wine which hath no vent, it is ready to burst like new bottles, I will speak that I may be refreshed, &c. O then how sweet was the savour of his graces! He could not but speak the things which he had seen and heard, and even invite all the world to taste and see how good the Lord was.

He began first with his relations, begging and wooing of them to think of their precious and immortal souls, and to lay in speedy provisions for a death-bed and eternity. O with what compassion did he plead the cause of Christ with their souls! What pathetical expressions did he use, what vehement expostulations, how frequent, how particular in his applications to them? O with what gravity and majesty would he speak of the mysteries of the gospel.

Read what his language was (when he was between eighteen and nineteen years old) in a letter to an antient minister that he stood related to, who at that time walked very heavily.

His LETTER.

Reverend Sir,

THERE are two things, the want of which I have had experience of in your family, though not in every degree; yet in that intenseness of degree wherein they ought to be; which are the real power of godliness and religion; and then that which is the fruit of the former, that chearfulness, delight, spiritual joy, and serenity of mind which is to be had in religion, and no where else; and that not in religion in its weakest degrees, but in a real vigour, power, and life, and in a more close constant walking with God; from a tender sense of the worth of souls, especially those of your family; and knowing the duty which my relation to it doth lay upon me, and having confidence of their well acceptance of it; I have undertaken to open my thoughts unto them.

In most families in England I fear there is neither the form nor the power of godliness, where there is no fear of God, no regard of him, no acting under him, or in reference to him. These are in my opinion twice dead, nay, not so much as having the dead carcase of religion: objects of pity they are, and O how few are there that spend one compassionate thought upon them!

Others there are, who some way or other, it may be from tradition from good parents, it may be from knowing the fashion of those in their rank; it may be from the frequent inculcating of good instructions from Christian friends or godly ministers; or some struggling eruptions of conscience; have gotten the outward husk or shell of religion, without any kernel or solidity at all: and this generation doth usually trust to this their religion; that it will bring them to a place like a sleeping place in heaven, or keep them out of hell; though they live without God in the world. These are poor creatures too; making haste to their own destruction, and know it not yea, thinking that they are in a fair way for heaven O that there were never a family to which we are related which gave too sad cause of fear, that it were in such a case, or near such a case as this is. A third sort of people there are (and but few of these neither) which have the reality of religion, but yet in much weakness, coldness, faintness, dimness, and intermission; like Nilus's brood above half mud still; beginning to have some life in their head, a little in their heart, but the feet of their affections and actions have little or no motion. And where shall we find a Christian that is got any higher than this, yea that doth in good earnest strive to get any higher! Now there are higher attainments to be reached after; there is a having our conversation in heaven while we are upon earth, neither doth this consist in some weak discourse about God, heaven and the things of religion, it consists not in the mere praying twice a day, and in keeping the Sabbath in an usual manner in its order, it consists not in a few thoughts of religious objects coming into the mind in a common way, and as easily lost as got. But true religion raiseth the soul to longings, hungrings, and thirstings, not without some enjoyments. Religion in power is to act for God with strength, vigour, earnestness, intenseness, delight, cheerfulness, serenity, and calmness of mind. The fruits of the spirit are joy in the Holy Ghost and peace: fear, disquiet, and terrors are usually the introduction to a better state, but they are not of the essentials of religion; yea the contrary frame of spirit is to be striven for. To speak yet more plainly, and to tell you, honoured Sir, what fears and jealousies are, with reverence to yourself, and tender affection to all your family, I fear that you yourself are subject to too many desponding melancholy thoughts. The causes whereof give me leave with submission to guess at. The first I think may be reflecting on your entring upon the ministry without that reverence, care, holy zeal for God, love to Christ, and compassion to souls, which is required of every one that undertakes that holy office; it may be there was rather a respect to your own living in the world than of living to God in the world, be it thus, b• it not as bad, or be it worse; the remedy is the same. These have a wounding power in them, which will be felt to be grievous, when felt as they are in themselves, but continual sorrow and sad thoughts do keep this wound open too long, and are not available to the having of it cured. Wounds indeed must be first opened that they may be cleansed, they must be opened that their filth may be discovered in reference to a purging and healing; but no longer than the balm of Gilead is to be applied, that they may be healed. And when Christ is made use of aright he leaveth joy and comfort, yet a constant humility of spirit is no way inconsistent with this peace of God.

A second cause of your heaviness may be a sense of the state of the people which God hath committed to you, and indeed who can but mourn over people in such a condition, objects of pity they are, and the more because they pity not themselves. I have often wrestled with God that he would direct you in what is your duty concerning them, which I persuade myself is your earnest request. Now, if after your serious examining of yourself what your conscience doth conclude to be your duty, you do it, and see you do it; you are then to rest upon God for his effectual working. Let not any think to be more merciful than God, for wherein he doth, he goes beyond his bounds: and this is no more cause of heaviness to you than the opposition that the apostles found at any time was, who notwithstanding rejoiced in tribulation. Another cause of heaviness may be what divisions are between yourself and some of your relation. O that a spirit of meekness and wisdom might remove all cause of sorrow for that. But were the power of godliness more in hearts and families, all the causes of such trouble would soon be removed, there would be less that would deserve reprehension, and there would be a fittedness of spirit to give and bear reproof; to give in meekness and tenderness, and to bear in humility, patience, and thankfulness. Some cares and thoughts you may have concerning your family when you are gone. But let faith and former experience teach you to drive away all such thoughts. The constitution and solitariness may also be some cause of melancholy; but there is a duty which if it were exercised would dispel all; which is heavenly meditation, and contemplation of the things which true Christian religion tends to If we did but walk closely with God one hour in a day in this duty, O what influence would it have into the whole life. This duty with the usefulness, manner, and direction, &c. I knew in some measure before, but had it more pressed upon me by Mr. Baxter's saint's everlasting rest, that can scarce be overvalued, for which I have cause for ever to bless God. As for your dear wife I fear the cares and troubles of the world take off her mind too much from walking with God so closely as she ought to do, and from that earnest endeavour after higher degrees of grace. I commend therefore to her and all this excellent duty of meditation; it is a bitter sweet duty, bitter to corrupt nature, but sweet to the regenerate part if performed. I intreat her and yourself, yea, I charge it upon you with humility and tenderness, that God have at least half an hour allowed him in a day for this exercise: O this most precious soul-raising, soul-ravishing, soul-perfecting duty! Take this from your dear friend as spoke with reverence and real love and faithfulness. My fear and jealousy lest I should speak in vain, maketh me say again: For God by me doth charge this upon you.

One more direction let me give, that none in your family satisfy themselves in family prayer. But let every one twice a day, if it may be possible, draw near to God in secret duty. Here secret wants may be laid open; here great mercies may be begged with great earnestness; here what wandering and coldness was in family duty may be repented of and mended. This is the way to get seriousness, reality, sincerity, cheerfulness in religion: and thus the joy of the Lord may be your strength. Let those who know their duty do it; if any think it not a necessary duty, let them fear lest they lose the most excellent help for a holy, useful, joyful life under the assistance of God's Spirit; whilst they neglect that which they think unnecessary. Take some of these directions from sincere affection, some from my own experience, and all from a real and compassionate desire of your joy and comfort. The Lord teach you in this and in the rest. I intreat you never to rest labouring still on, till, after the foretastes of his comfort in this life, you have attained to true spiritual joy and peace in the Lord. The God of peace give you his direction, and the foretastes of his comforts in this life, and perfection in eternal life, in the enjoying of infinite holiness, purity, and excellency through Christ. Thus praying, I rest—

In another LETTER to a Reverend Friend, that had the Care of many Children, he thus adviseth.

SIR,

YOUR charge is great upon a temporal account, but greater upon a spiritual; many souls being committed to your charge. Out of an earnest desire of the good of souls, and your own joy and peace, I importunately request that you would have a great care of your children, and be often dropping in some wholesome admonitions; and this I humbly, with submission to your judgment in it, commend to you: nor to admonish them always altogether; but likewise privately one by one, not letting the rest know of it. Wherein you may please to press upon them their natural corruption, their necessity of regeneration, the excellency of Christ, and how unspeakably lovely it is to see young ones setting out for heaven. This way I think may do most good, having had experience of it myself in some small measure, God grant that all may work for the edifying of those who are committed to you. I leave you under the protection of him that hath loved us, and given himself for us—

Thus you see how he seemed swallowed up with the affairs of another world

CHAP. III. His Carriage when Fellow of the College, at Twenty Years of Age.

WHEN he was about twenty years old, he was made fellow of the college, which did not a little advance those noble projects which he had in his head, for the promoting of the interest of the Lord Christ. Then how sweetly would he insinuate into the young ones desiring to carry as many of them as possibly he could along with him to heaven; many attempts he made upon some of the same house that he might season them with grace, and animate, and encourage those who were looking towards heaven. And as for his own relations, never was there a more compassionate and tender hearted brother. How many pathetical letters did he send to them! and how did he follow them with prayers and tears that they might prove successful! how frequently would he address himself to them in private! and how ready to improve providences and visits that he might set them home upon them? How excellently would he set forth the beauty of Christ! He earnestly would persuade them to enquire into the state of their souls. How would he endeavour to bring them off from sandy foundations, and resting upon their own righteousness! In a word, he was scarce content to go to heaven, without, and through mercy he was very successful among his own relations, and the whole family soon savoured of his spirit; how were the children put upon getting choice scripture and their catechisms, and engaged in secret prayer and meditation. Father, mother, brethren, sisters, boarders were the better for his excellent example and holy exhortations. He was a good nurse, if not a spiritual father to his natural father, as you may read afterwards; and some of his brethren have cause to bless God for ever that ever they saw his face, and heard his words, and observed his conversation, which had so much of loveliness and beauty in in that it could not but commend religion to any that did take notice of it. He could speak in St. Paul's words, Brethren, my hearts desire and prayer to God for you all is, that you may be saved.

Read what his heart was in these following lines.

‘Distance of place cannot at all lessen that natural bond whereby we are conjoined in blood, neither ought to lessen that of love. Nay, where true love is it cannot; for love towards you I can only say this, that I feel it better than I can express it; 〈◊〉 it is wont to be with all affections: but love felt and not expressed is little worth. I therefore desire to make my love manifest in the best way I can. Let us look upon one another not as brethren only, but as members of the same body, whereof Christ is the head. Happy day will that be wherein the Lord will discover that union; let us therefore breathe and hunger after this, so that our closest knot may meet in Christ: if we are in Christ and Christ in us, then we shall be one with one another. This I know, you cannot complain for want of instruction, God hath not been to us a dry wilderness, or a barren hearth; you have had line upon line, and precept upon precept; he hath planted you by the rivers of water; it is the Lord alone indeed who maketh fruitful, but yet we are not to stand still and do nothing. There is a crown worth seeking for; seek therefore, and that earnestly. O seek by continual prayer, keep your soul in a praying frame, this is a great and necessary duty, nay, a high and precious privilege. If thou canst say nothing, come and lay thyself in an humble manner before the Lord. You may believe me, for I have through mercy experienced what I say. There is more sweetness to be got in one glimpse of God's love, than in all that the world can afford. O do but try: O taste and see how good the Lord is Get into a corner and throw yourself down before the Lord, and beg of God to make you sensible of your lost undone state by nature, and of the excellency and necessity of Christ. Say, Lord, give me a broken heart, soften, melt me. Any thing in the world, so I may be but enabled to value Christ, and be persuaded to accept of him, as he is tendered in the gospel. O that I may be delivered from the wrath to come; O a blessing for me, even for me, and resolve not to be content till the Lord have in some measure answered you. O my bowels yern towards you: my heart works. O that you did but know with what affection I write now to you, and what prayers and tears have been mingled with these lines, the Lord set these things home and give you a heart to apply them to your self, the Lord bless all the means that you enjoy, for his blessing is all in all. Give me leave to deal plainly and to come yet a little closer to you for I love your soul so well, that I cannot bear the thoughts of the loss of it. Know this that there is such a thing as the new birth and except a man be born again he cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven; God's favour is not to be recovered without it. This new birth hath its foundation laid in a sense of sin and godly sorrow for it, and a heart set against it; without this there can be no salvation. Look well about you and see into your self, and thou wilt see that thou art at hells mouth without this first step, and nothing but free grace and pure mercy is between you and the state of the Devils. The Lord deliver us from a secure careless heart! Here you see a natural man's condition. How darest thou then ly down in security. O look about for your souls sake. What shall I say, what shall I do to awaken your poor soul! I say again, without repentance there is no remission; and repentance itself may loose its labour if it be not in the right manner. Then tears, and groans, and prayers will not do without Christ; most when they are convinced of sin, and are under fears of hell run to duty and reform something. and thus the wound is healed, and by this thousands fall short of heaven. For if we be not brought off from ourselves and our righteousness as well as our sins we are never like to be saved. We must see an absolute need of a Christ, and give ourselves up to him, and count all but dung and dross in comparison of Christ's righteousness. Look therefore for mercy only in Christ, for his sake rely upon God's mercy. The terms of the gospel are repent and believe, gracious terms! Mercy for fetching, nay mercy for desiring, nay for nothing but receiving. Dost thou desire mercy and grace, I know thou dost; even this is the gift of God to desire, hunger after Christ; let desires put you upon endeavour, the work itself is sweet; yea repentance and mourning itself hath more sweetness in it than all the worlds comforts. Upon repentance and believing, comes justification, after this sanctification, by the spirit dwelling in us. By this we come to be the children of God, to be made partakers of the divine nature, to lead new lives, to have a suitableness to God. It is unworthy of a Christian to have such a narrow spirit as not to act for Christ with all ones heart, and soul, and strength, and might Be not ashamed of Christ, be not afraid of the frowns and jeers of the wicked. Be sure to keep a conscience void of offence, and yield by no means to any known sin; be much in prayer, in secret prayer, and in reading the scriptures. Therein are laid up the glorious mysteries which are hid from mine eyes. My greatest desire is that God would work his own great work in you. I desire to see you not as formerly, but that the Lord would make me an instrument of your souls good for which I greatly long.’

CHAP. IV. His Particular Addresses to his Brethren, for their Souls Gooddand the Success thereof.

HE wrote many letters of this nature, and desired oftentimes to be visiting his brethren that he might particularly address himself to them and see what became of his letters, prayers, and tears, and he was very watchful over them, ready to reprove and convince them of sin, and ready to encourage any beginnings of a good work in them. To instance in a particular or two.

One time perceiving one of his brethren asleep at prayer in the family; he presently took occasion to show him what a high contempt it was of God what a little sense such a man must have of his own danger, what dreadful hypocrisy, what a miracle of patience that he was not awakened in flames. After he had been a while affectionately pleading with him, it pleased the Lord to strike in with some power and to melt and soften his brother's heart when he was about eleven years old, so that it was to be hoped that then the Lord began savingly to work upon the heart of that child. For from that time forward a considerable alteration might be discerned in him. When he perceived it he was not a little pleased. This put him upon carrying on the work, that conviction might not wear off till it ended in conversion. To this end he wrote to him, to put him in mind of what God had done for his soul, begging of him not to rest satisfied till he knew what a thorow change and effectual calling meant. I hope, said he, that God hath a good work to do in you, for you, and by you; yea, I hope he hath already begun it. But O take not up with some beginnings, faint desires, lazy seekings; O remember your former tears, one may weep a little for sin and yet go to hell for sin; many that are under some such work, shake of the sense of sin, murder their convictions, and return again to folly. O! take heed! of any draw back the Lord will take no pleasure in them; but I hope better things of you.

He would also observe how his brethren carried at after duty, whether they seemed to run presently to the world with greediness, as if duty were a task, or whether there seemed to be an abiding impression of God and the things of God upon them.

His vehement love and compassion to souls may be further judged of by these following expressions, which he used to one of his relations. After he had been speaking how infinitely it was below a Christian to pursue with greediness the things which will be but as gravel in the teeth, if we mind not the rich provision which is in our Father's house. O what folly is it to trifle in the things of God! but I hope better things of you; did I not hope; why should I not mourn in secret for you as one cast out among the dead! O what should I do for you but pour out my soul like water, and give my God no rest till he should graciously visit you with his salvation; till he cast you down and raise you up, till he wound you and heal you again.

Thus what with his holy example, warm and wise exhortations, prayers, tears, and secret groans, somewhat of the beauty of religion was to be seen in the family where he lived.

CHAP. V. His great Love to, and Prequency in the Duty of Prayer: With remarkable Success.

HE was mighty in prayer, and his spirit was oftentimes so transported in it that he forgot the weakness of his own body and of others spirits; indeed the acquaintance that he had with God was so sweet, and his converse with him so frequent, that when he was engaged in duty he scarce knew how to leave that which was so delightful and suited to his spirit. His constant course for some years was this. He prayed at least three times a day in secret, sometimes seven times, twice a day in the family or college. And he found the sweetness of it beyord imagination, and enjoyed wonderful communion with God, and tasted much of the pleasantness of a heavenly life. And he could say by experience, that the ways of wisdom were ways of pleasantness, and all her paths peace. He knew what it was to wrestle with God, and was come to that pass that he could scarce come off his knees without his Father's blessing. He was used to converse with God with a holy familiarity as a friend, and would upon all occasions run to him for advice, and had many strange and immediate answers of prayer. One of which I think it not altogether impertinent to give the world an account of,

His honoured father, Mr. William Janeway, minister of Kelshall in Hartfortshire, being sick, and being under somewhat dark apprehensions as to the state of his soul, he would often say to his son John: O son! this passing upon eternity is a great thing, this dying is a solemn business, and enough to make any one's heart ake, that hath not his pardon sealed, and his evidences for heaven clear. And truly son, I am in no small fears as to my own state for another world. O that God would clear his love! O that I could say chearfully, I can die, and upon good grounds be able to look death in the face, and venture upon eternity with well grounded peace and comfort!

His sweet and dutiful son made a suitable reply at present; but seeing his dear father continuing under despondings of spirit (though no Christians that knew him, but had a high esteem of him for his uprightness) he got by himself and spent some time in wrestling with God upon his father's account, earnestly begging of God that he would fill him with joy unspeakable in believing, and that he would speedily give him some token for good, that he might joyfully and honourably leave this world to go to a better. After he was risen from his knees he came down to his sick father, and asked him how he felt himself. His father made no answer for some time, but wept exceedingly (a passion that he was not subject to) and continued for some considerable time in an extraordinary passion of weeping, so that he was not able to speak. But at last having recovered himself with unspeakable joy he burst out into such expressions as these. O son! now it is come, it is come, it is come. I bless God I can die. The spirit of God hath witnessed with my spirit that I am his child: now I can look up to God as my dear Father, and Christ as my Redeemer, I can now say this is my friend, and this is my beloved. My heart is full, it is brim full: I can hold no more. I know now what that sentence means, the peace of God which passeth understanding, I know now what that white stone is wherein a new name is written, which none know but they who have it. And that fit of weeping which you saw me in, was a fit of overpowering love and joy, so great that I could not for my heart contain myself: neither can I express what glorious discoveries God hath made of himself unto me. And had that joy been greater, I question whether I could have born it, and whether it would not have separated soul and body. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name that hath pardoned all my sins, and sealed the pardon. He hath healed my wounds, and caused the bones which he had broken to rejoice. O help me to bless the Lord! he hath put a new song into my mouth: O bless the Lord for his infinite goodness and rich mercy! O now I can die! It is nothing, I bless God I can die. I desire to be dissolved and to be with Christ. You may well think that his sons heart was not a little refreshed to hear such words, and see such a sight, and to meet the messenger he had sent to heaven returned back again so speedily. He counted himself a sharer with his father in this mercy, and it was upon a double account welcome, as it did so wonderfully satisfie his father and as it was so immediate and clear an answer of his own prayers, as if God had from heaven said unto him thy tears and prayers, are heard for thy father: thou hast like a prince prevailed with God: thou hast got the blessing: thy fervent prayers have been effectual: go down and see else.

Upon this, this precious young man broke forth into praises and even into another extasie of joy that God should deal so familiarly with him; and the father and son together were so full of joy, light, life, love and praise that there was a little heaven in the place. He could not then but express himself in this manner. O blessed and for ever blessed be God for his infinite grace! O who would not pray unto God! verily he is a God that heareth prayers and that my soul knows right well! And then he told his joyful father, how much he was affected with former dispondings and what he had been praying for just before with all the earnestness he could for his soul, and how the Lord had immediately answered him. His Father hearing this, and perceiving that his former comforts came in a way of prayer, and his own childs prayer too, was the more refreshed and was the more confirmed, that it was from the Spirit of God, and no delusion. And immediately his Son standing by he fell into another fit of triumphing joy, his weak body being almost ready to sink under that great weight of glory that did shine in so powerfully upon his soul. He could then say, Now let thy servant depart in peace, for my eyes have seen thy salvation. He could now walk through the valley of the shadow of death and fear no evil. O how sweet a thing it is to have ones interest in Christ cleared, how comfortable to have our calling and election made sure? How lovely is the sight of a smiling Jesus when one is dying! How refreshing is it when heart and flesh and all is failing, to have God for the strength of our heart and our portion for ever! O did the foolish and unexperienced world but know what these things mean, did they but understand what it is to be solaced with the believing views of glory, to have their senses spiritually exercised, could they but taste and see how good the Lord is, it would soon cause them disrelish their low and brutish pleasures, and look upon all worldly joys as infinitely short of one glimpse of God's love? After this his reverend father had a sweet calm upon his spirits, and went in the strength of that provision that rich grace laid in, till he came within the gates of the new Jerusalem: having all his graces greatly improved, shewed so much humility, love to and admiring of God, contempt of the world, such surprizing of Christ, such patience as few Christians arrive to, especially his faith by which with extraordinary confidence he cast his widow and eleven fatherless children upon the care of that God who had fed him with this manna in his wilderness state. The benefit of which faith all his children (none of which were in his life time provided for) have since to admiration experienced. And it is scarce to be imagined how helpful thus his precious Son John Janeway was to his Father by his heavenly discourse, humble advice and prayers. After a four months conflict with a gainful consumption and hectic fever his honoured father sweetly slept in Jesus.

CHAP. VI. His Care of Mother and other Relations after his Father's Death.

AFter the death of his father he did what he could to supply his absence, doing the part of a husband, Son, Brother: so that he was no small comfort to his poor mother in her disconsolate state, and all the rest of his relations that had any sense of God upon their spirits. To one of which, he thus addressed himself upon the death of a sweet child.

‘Daily observation, and every man's experience gives sufficient testimony to it, that afflictions of what kind soever, by how much the seldomer they are, the more grievous they seem. We have for a long time sailed in the rivers of blessings which God hath plentifully poured forth among us; now if we come where the waves of affliction do but a little more than ordinarily arise, we begin to have our souls almost carried down with fears and griefs; yea the natural man if not counter powered by the spirit of God, will be ready to entertain murmering and repining thoughts against God himself. Whereas, if all our life had been a pilgrimage full of sorrows and afflictions (as we deserved) and had but rarely been intermingled with comforts. we should have been more fitted to bear afflictions. Thus it is naturally: but we ought to counter work against the stream of nature by a new principle wrought in us, and whatsoever nature doth err in, grace is to rectifie. And they upon whom grace is bestowed ought to set grace on work. For wherefore is grace bestowed unless it should act in us: It hath pleased the Lord to make a breach in your family, There where the knot is fastest tied; when it is disunited the change becomes greater and the grief is the more inlarged. So that herein you who are most moved are most to be excused and comforted, the strength of a mothers affection I believe none but mothers know, and greatest affections when they are disturbed breed the greatest grief But when afflictions come upon us what will be our duty? Shall we then give ourselves up to be carried way with the grieving passions? Shall we, because of one affliction cause our souls to walk in sadness all our days, and drive away all the light of comfort from our eyes by causing our souls to be obscured under the shades of melancholy? Shall we quarrel with our maker and call the wise righteous Judge to our bar? Doth he not punish us less than we deserve? Is there not mercy and truth in all his dispensations? Shall we by continual sorrow add affliction to affliction and so become our own tormentors? Are we not under afflictions to see if any way we may find a glimpse of God's love shining in towards us and so to raise up our souls nearer God. Is there not enough in God and the holy scriptures to bear up our spirits under any afflictions let them be never so great. What do you say to that word; who is there among you that feareth the Lord, and that obeyeth the voice of his servant that walketh in darkness and seeth no light, let him trust in the name of the Lord and stay himself upon his God though all earthly comforts were fled away, and though you could see no light from any of these things below: yet if you look upward to God in Christ there is comfort to be found, there is light to be espied; yea a great and glorious light, which if we can rightly discern, it would put out the light of all lower comforts and cause them to be vilely accounted of. But alas! alas! those heavenly comforts though they are in themselves so precious, and if really and sensibly felt able to raise a man's soul from earth, yea from hell to the foretaste of heaven itself, yet for want of a spiritual sense they are by most of the world undervalued, slighted, and thought to be but fancies. Nay let me speak freely: Christians themselves and those whom we have cause to hope are men of another world and truly born again, yet for want of a spiritual quickness in this spiritual sight and sense their comforts are too lowly and meanly esteemed of.’

‘It is a spiritual sense that enableth a Christian to behold a glorious lustre and beauty in invisibles, and raiseth the soul up to the gate of heaven itself, and when he is there how can he choose but look down with a holy slighting and contempt upon the sweetest of all earthly enjoyments? How can he choose but think all creature comforts but small, compared with one look of love from Christ? This heavenly comfort was that which David did so much desire. Lord, lift up the light of thy countenance upon me, was the language of his soul, and when this was come how was his heart enlarged? Thou hast put joy and gladness in my heart more than in the time when their corn and wine increased. He then that in afflictions would find comfort, must strive to see spiritual comforts to the greatest, even that comfort which is from God, in the face of Jesus Christ; this, this will be a cordial, this will be as marrow and fatness to the soul. They who have interest in Christ what need they be moved and discomfited with worldly trouble? Is not Christ better than ten children, is not his loving-kindness better than life? Is not all the world a shadow, compared with one quarter of an hours enjoyment of him, even on this side of glory in some of his own ordiances. O therefore strive to get your interest in this comfort secured and then all's well. He that hath Christ hath all things. If God be reconciled to you through him, then he will withhold no good thing from you.’

‘We poor foolish creatures do scarce know what is good for ourselves, but it is no small encouragement to the people of God that wisdom itself takes care of them, and one that loves them better than they love themselves looks after them: and he hath given them his promise for it, that all shall work together for their good. And what better foundation of comfort can there be in the whole world than this! Why may you not then say with the Psalmist, Why art thou cast down, O my soul, and why art thou disquieted in me, hope in God. Let not your soul sink under afflictions, for what reason have you to be discomfited under them. Can you gather from thence that the Lord doth not love you? No surely, but rather the contrary, for whom the Lord loveth he chastneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth, What son is he that the father chastneth not? Wherefore lift up the hands which hang down, and the feeble knees.’

Let this serve as a remedy against excessive grief. Get your love to God increased, which if you do, the love of all other things will wax cold. And if you have given God your heart, you will give him leave to take what he will that is yours, and what he hath you will judge rather well kept than lost.

Remember that scripture, and let it have its due impression upon your spirit; He that loves father or mother, brother or sister, yea or children more than me, is not worthy of me. O labour to have your affections therefore more raised up to him who is most worthy of them, let him have the uppermost and greatest room in your heart, and let your love to all other things be placed in subjection to your love of God, be ruled by it, and directed to it. Be our earthly afflictions never so great, yet let this love to God poise your souls, so that they may not be overweighed with grief on the one side, or stupidness on the other side. Again, let our souls be awed by that glorious power and omnipotency of God, who is able to do any thing, and who will do whatsoever pleaseth him both in heaven and in earth; at whose word and for whose glory all things that are were made. And what are we poor creatures, that we should dare to entertain any hard thought of this God! It is dangerous contending with God! Let us learn that great lesson of resigning up ourselves and all we have to God; let us put ourselves as instruments into the hands of the Lord, to do what he pleaseth with us, and let us remember that it was our promise and covenant with God to yield ourselves up to him, and to be wholly at his disposal. The soul is then in a sweet frame when it can cordially say, It is the Lord, let him do what seemeth good in his eyes. Not my will, but thine be done. Again, let us know that though we cannot always see into the reasonableness of the ways of God, (for his ways are often in the thick cloud, and our weak eyes cannot look into those depths in which he walketh) yet all the ways of God are just, holy, and good. Let us therefore have a care of so much as moving, much more of entertaining any unworthy thoughts against God. But let us submit willingly to the yoke which he is pleased to lay upon us, lest he break us with terrible judgments. And now it hath seemed good to God to lay this stroke upon you, I pray labour rightly to improve it, and let this trial prepare you for greater. And seeing the uncertainty of all worldly things, endeavour with all your might to get your heart above them, and I beseech the Lord who is the great Physician of souls and knows how to apply a salve to every sore of his, to comfort you with his spiritual comforts, that he would favourably shine upon you and receive you into a nearer union and communion with himself. Into his hands I commit you, with him I leave you, praying that he would make up all in himself.

He was an excellent example to his younger brethren; and his wise instructions, and holy practices, did not a little influence them. He was a prudent counsellor, and an assistant that could not well be spared to his eldest brother: who was not a little sensible of that personal worth that was in his younger brother; whom he would prefer before himself, as one whom he judged, God had honoured with far greater parts, graces, and experiences than himself. The younger also did as humbly and heartily respect and honour him, as a serious Christian, a minister, and his elder brother, who had obliged him with more than ordinary kindness!

When he was but young, yet he began to be taken notice of by antient ministers and Christians; though his modesty was so great, that his huge parts, were not a little obscured thereby; and his vast worth was so ballasted with humility, that he made no great noise in the world, and most were ignorant of his singular worth. A wise man that was intimately acquainted with him, would say of him that he was like deep waters, that were most still; a man of hidden excellency. There were few that knew, how close he walked with God, and at what a high rate he lived, and how great a trade he drave for the riches of that other world: All which he laboured, as much as might be, to conceal.

CHAP. VII. His return to King's College after his Father's Death. His holy Projects for Christ and Souls.

WHEN his father was dead, he returned again to King's college, and was a member of a secret cabal, which began to carry on notable projects for Christ and souls, and to plot how they might best improve their gifts and graces, so as that they might be most serviceable to God and their generation. Their custom was frequently to meet together, to pray and to communicate studies and experiences, and to handle some question of divinity, or in some scholastic way to exercise the gifts which God had given them. Some of this company did degenerate, but others lived to let the world understand, that, what they did was from a vital principle: Amongst whom, this young man was none of the least: who had a design upon some of the juniors to engage them, if possible, before they were ensnared by wicked company, when they came fresh from school. After some time, most of his dear companions were transplanted either into gentlemens families or livings; and this Mr Janeway, being one of the youngest, was, for a while, left alone in the college. But he wanting the comfortable diversion of suitable godly society, fixed so intensely upon his studies, that he soon gave such a wound to his bodily-constitution, that it could never be thoroughly healed.

CHAP. VIII. His Departure from the College, to live in Dr. Cox's Family.

AFTER a while, Dr. Cox wanting a tutor for his son in his house, sent to the provost of the college to make choice of a man of true worth for him: In answer to whose request, the provost was pleased to send Mr. Janeway, who did neither shame him that preferred him, nor disappointed the expectations of him that entertained him: but by his diligence, profound learning, and success in his undertaking, did not a little oblige the relations of his pulpil. But his pains were so great, and his body so weak, that it could not long bear up under such work; so that he was forced to ask leave of the doctor, to try whether the change of the air might not contribute somewhat to the mending the temper of his body, which now began sensibly to decay.

Whilst he was in that family, his carriage was so sweet and obliging, and his conversation so spiritual, that it did not a little endear his presence to them, so that I question not but some of that family will carry a sweet remembrance of him along with them to their graves: And I oft heard him owning the goodness of God to him, in the benefit that he got, by the graces and experiences of some Christians, in, and related to that family, whose tender love to him he did gratefully resent upon his deathbed.

CHAP IX. His Retire into the Country; and his first Sickness.

HE now leaves the Doctor's house, and retires himself into the country, to his mother and eldest brother, who did not spare to use their utmost diligence and tenderness to recruit the decays of nature; but hard study, frequent and earnest prayers, and long and intense meditation, had so ruinated this frail tabernacle, that it could not be fully repaired; yet, by God's blessing upon care and art, it was underpropped for some time,

Whilst he was in this declining condition, in which he could have little hopes of life; he was so far from being affrighted, that he received the sentence of death in himself with great joy; and wrote to his dearest relations, to dispose them to a patient compliance with such a disposition, as might separate him and them for a while: And to wean their affections from him, he solemnly professed, that as for himself he was ashamed to desire and pray for life. Oh saith he, Is there any thing here more desirable than the enjoyment of Christ? Can I expect any thing below, comparable to that blessed vision? O, that crown, that rest which remains for the people of God! And (blessed be God) that I can say, I know it is mine, know that, when this tabernacle of clay shall be dissolved, I have a house not made with hands; and therefore I groan, not to be unclothed, but to be clothed upon with Christ. To me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.

I can now, through infinite mercy, speak in the apostle's language, I have fought a good fight, henceforth there is laid up for me a crown incorruptible, that fadeth not away.

When he perceived one of his nearest relations distressed at the apprehension of his death, he charged him not to pray for his life, except it were purely with a respect to the glory of God I wish (said he) I beg you, to keep your minds in a submissive frame to the will of God concerning me. The Lord take you nearer to himself, that you may walk with him; to whom if I go before, I hope you will follow after. Yet, after this, he was through mercy finely recovered, and his friends were not without some hopes of his living to be eminently instrumental for God's glory in his generation

After he was recovered in some measure he fell again to his former practice of engaging deeply in the secret and great duties of religion, which he constantly practised (except when God discharged him by sickness;) secret prayer, at least three times a day sometimes seven times yea more; besides family, and colledge duties, which were before hinted he set apart an hour every day for set and solemn meditation; which duty he found unspeakable to improve his graces, and to make no small addition to his comforts: His time for that duty was most commonly in the evening, when he usually walked into the field, if the weather would permit; if not, he retired into the church, or any empty solitary room. Where, (observing his constant practice, that, if possible, I might be aquainted with the reason of his retiredness) I once hid myself that I might take the more exact notice of the intercourse, that, I judged, was kept up between him and God▪ But, O what a spectacle did I see! Surely a man walking with God, conversing intimately with his maker, and maintaining a holy familiarity with the great Jehovah. Me thought I saw one talking with God; me-thought, I saw a spiritual merchant in an heavenly exchange, driving a rich trade for the treasures of the other world. O what a glorious sight it was! Me-thinks, I see him still; how sweetly, did his face shine! O with what a lovely countenance did he walk up and down, his lips going; his body oft reaching up, as if he could have taken his flight into heaven! His looks, smiles, and every motion spake him to be upon the very confines of glory. O, had one but known what he was then feeding on! Sure, he had meat to eat which the world knew not of! Did we but know how welcome God made him when he brought him into his banqueting-house. That which one might easily perceive his heart to be most fixed upon, was, the infinite love of God in Christ, to the poor lost sons and daughters of Adam. What else meant his high expressions? What else did his own words to a dear friend signifie, but an extraordinary sense of the freeness, fulness, and duration of that love. To use his own words, God (saith he) holds mine eyes most upon his goodness, his unmeasurable goodness, and the promises which are most sure, and firm in Christ. His love to us is greater, surer, fuller than ours to ourselves▪ For when we loved ourselves so as to destroy ourselves, he loved us so as to save us.

CHAP. X. His Exhortation to some of his Friends.

AND that he might engage others in more ardent affections to God he put words into their mouths; Let us then (saith he) behold him, till our hearts desire, till our very souls are drawn out after him, till we are brought to aquaintance, intimacy, delight in him! O that he would love me, O that I might love him! O blessed are they that know him, and are known of him! It is good for me, to draw near to God. ‘A day in his court is better than a thousand elsewhere; My soul longeth, yea fainteth for the courts of the Lord, my heart and my flesh crieth out for the living God.’ Oh that I were received into converse with him, that I might hear his voice and see his countenance! For, His voice is sweet and his countenance is comely! Oh that I might communicate myself to God, and he would give himself to me! O that I might love him! That I were sick of love, that I might die in love! That I might lose myself in his love, as a small drop in the unfathomable depth of his love! That I might dwell in his eternal love! O (saith he to a dear friend under some fears as to his state) stand still and wonder, behold his love and admire; now, if never yet, consider what thou canst discover in this precious Jesus. Canst thou not see so much till thou canst see no more, not because of its shortness, but because of thy darkness?

Here's a sea: fling thyself into it, and thou shalt he compassed with the height, and depth, and breadth, and length of love, and be filled with all the fulness of God. Is not this enough! What wouldst thou have more? Fling away all besides God, God is portion enough, and the only proper portion of thy soul. Hast thou not tasted, hast thou not known, that his love is better than wine? Hast thou not smelt the savour of his precious ointments, for which the virgins love him? This, this is he who is altogether lovely. And, while I write, my heart doth burn, my soul is on fire, I am sick of love

Dear soul, come near and look upon his face, and see whether thou canst choose but love him. Fall upon him, embrace him, give him thy dearest choisest love: all's too little for him; let faith and love kiss him: you shall be no more bold than welcome. Fix thine eyes again and again upon him look upon his lovely, sweet and royal face; till thou art taken with this beautiful Person, who hath not his fellow upon the earth, his equal among the angels. Come near, still contemplate his excellency, review each part, and thou wilt find him to be made up of love; wind thy affections about him; bind thy soul to him, with the cords of love. Thus shalt thou find a new life to animate thy soul, thou shalt then feel a new warmth to melt thy heart; a divine fire to burn up corruption, and to break forth into a flame of heavenly love; dwell in this love, and thou shalt dwell in God, and God in thee. But now, methinks, I see you almost all in tears, because thou feelest not such workings of love towards God. Weep on still; for, love hath tears as well as grief: and tears of love shall be kept in his bottle as well as they; yea, they shall be as precious jewels, and as an excellent ornament. Hast thou felt such meltings of loving-grief? Know, that they are no other than the streams of Christ's love flowing to you, and through you, and from you to him again. And thus is Christ delighted in beholding of his own beauties, in his spouse's eye.

I have prayed for a blessing for you, and on these related to you, and if they prove of any power by the Spirit of God to you, it will be matter of joy and praise. By your dear friend, John Janeway.

CHAP. XI. His Temptations from Satan.

THUS, you have a taste of his spirit and may perceive, what it was that he had his heart most set upon; and what kept his graces in such vigour and activity; and how desirous he was that others should be sharers with him in this mercy: Yet, for all this, he had his gloomy days, and the sun was sometimes overcast, his sweets were sometimes imbittered with dreadful, and horrid temptations. The Devil shot his poisonous arrows at him; yet, through the Captain of his salvation, he became, more than a conqueror, out of the field. He was, with Paul, many times lifted up into the third heavens and saw and heard things unutterable: but, lest he should be exalted above measure, there was a messenger of Satan sent to buffet him

It would make a Christian's heart even ake to hear and read what strange temptations this gracious soul was exercised with. But he was well for such a conflict, having on the shield of faith whereby he quenched the fiery darts of the wicked one: yet, this fight cost him the sweating of his very body for agonies of spirit; and tears and strong cries to heaven, for fresh help. As for himself, he was wont to take an arrow out of God's quiver and discharge it by faith and prayer, for the discomfiture of his violent enemy, who at last was fain to fly.

These temptations and conflicts with Satan did not a little help him afterwards in his dealing with one that was sorely afflicted with temptations of the like nature And because I judge it of singular use to tempted ones, and find very many of late to be exercised in this kind, I shall insert a letter of his, suitable to all Christians in the like case.

A Letter of Mr. John Janeway's.

Dear Friend,

YOUR letters are bitter in the mouth, but sweet in the belly; they contain matter of joy, under a dismal aspect: they are good news, brought by a messenger in mourning: I had rather hear of that which is matter of substantial real joy, though mixed with many sighs, and interrupted with many groans and sobs; than of laughter, in the midst of which the heart is sad.

You say that you are troubled with blasphemous thoughts: so then, though they are blasphemous, yet they are your trouble; and thoughts they are too, and that neither sent for nor welcome; and so are not assented to in your mind. What then shall we think of them? If they were of your own production, your heart would be delighted in its own issue: but you do nothing less. Sure then, they are the injections of that wicked one, who is the accuser of the brethren, and the disturber of the peace of the people of God. But, doth Satan use to employ those weapons, but against those that he is in some fear of losing? He is not wont to assault and fight against his surest friends in this manner. Those that he hath fast in his own possession, he leads on, as softly and quietly as he can; fearing lest such disturbance should make them look about them, and so they should awake and see their danger. But as for those, that have, in some measure, escaped his snares; he follows them hard, with all the discouragements he can. Surely these things can be no other but a bitter relish of those things, which you know to be bitter after that you have tasted the honey and the honey-comb; after you have seen how good the Lord is. What then shall I call these motions of your mind? They are the souls loathing the morsels which Satan would have it to swallow down: yea, they are the souls striving with Satan, whilst he would ravish the spouse of Jesus: And let the enemy of all goodness know, that he shall e're long pay dearly for such attempts. But you will say, If these horrible thoughts be not your sin, yet they are your trouble and misery, and you desire to be freed from them; and the most loyal and loving spouse had rather be delivered from those assaults; but you will ask; How shall I get thee from them ? First, See that you possess your soul in patience; and know this, that God hath an over-ruling hand in all this: and wait upon him; for he can, and will bring forth good out of this seeming evil. At present, you are in the dark and see no light: yet, Trust in the Lord, and stay yourself upon your God. Can Christ forget the purchase of his own blood, the price of his soul, those whom he hath so intimately endeared to himself? Can a mother forget her sucking child? Yet, God cannot forget his, God hath loving and gracious intents in all this, and his bowels yearn towards his. Yea, our Saviour suffers with us, through his ardent love by sympathy, as well as he hath suffered for us. But, for your being rid of these thoughts, you know who hath all power in his hand, who doth employ this power in a way of love towards his. This power is made yours thro' the prayer of faith: but, for your own work, do this.

First, Let not such thoughts have any time of abode in your mind: but turn them out, with all the loathing and abhorrence you can; but not so much trouble and disturbance of mind, as, I believe you do. For, by this the Devil is pleased, and he makes you your own tormentor

Secondly, Always then diver your thoughts to some good thing, and let those very injections be constantly the occasion of your more spiritual meditation. Think the quite contrary, or fall a praying with earnestness and the Devil will be weary, if he find his designs thus broken, and that those sparks of hell (which he struck into the soul, to kindle and inflame corruption,) do put warm in-into grace and set faith and prayer a working, when he perceives, that what he intended as water to cool your love to God, proves like oil to make it flame the more vehemently; he will be discouraged Thus resist him, and he will flee from you.

Thirdly, Consider that this is no new thing: For we are not in this ignorant of satans wiles, that, if any soul hath escaped out of the chains of darkness, if he will have heaven he shall have it with as much trouble, as the devil can lay on; and, if he and his had their wills, no good man should have one peaceable hour: But, blessed be God for his everlasting and unchangeable love to his that the devil cannot pluck us out of those almighty arms, with which he doth embrace his dear children.

Dear heart, my prayer for thee, is, that God would give thee the peaceable fruit of righteousness after all thy afflictions; and that thou mayest come out of these trials, refined and purified and more fit for thy masters use; having this the end of all, to purge away dross, and take away thy sin.

Thus hoping that, at the length, God will turn thy mourning into joy, thy trouble into triumph, and all thy sorrows into a sure and stable peace I leave you with him, and rest.

Yours in our dear Lord, John Janeway.

He was much afraid of any decays in grace, of a postacy; yea, of flatness of spirit, either in himself or others: and if he suspected any thing of that nature in his nearest relations, he would do what he could possibly, to recover them out of the snares of satan, and to quicken them to higher and more noble vigorous spiritual acts of religion. He laboured to maintain a constant tenderness and sensibility upon his heart, and to take notice of the least departure of his soul from God, or Gods absenting of himself from the soul, (which was an expression that was much in his mouth.) He had a godly jealousy, over his brother: One of which was awakened by his serious and particular application of himself to him when he was about eleven years old: but he knew, that conviction and conversion are two things, and that many are somewhat affected by a warm exhortation, who quickly wear off those expressions, and return to their former trifling with God, and neglect of their souls. Wherefore, he desired to carry on the work that he had some hopes of was well begun: he laboured to build sure, and build up; that he might be rooted and grounded in the faith stedfast and unmoveable always abounding in the work of the Lord. Wherefore he followed him, not only with private warnings, and frequent pathetical counsels and directions; but with letters, one of which spoke in this language.

Another of his Letters, of private Warning and Pathetical Counsel.

YOU live in a place where strict and close walking with God, hath few or no examples and most are apt to be like their company; and Gods own children are too apt to forget their first love: our hearts are apt to be careless and to neglect our watch; we are ready to grow formal in duty or spiritual, and then, it may be, less frequent: and conscience is put off with some poor excuse: and thus religion withers, and one that seemedonce a zealot may come to be a Laodicean; and some that looked once as if they were eminent saints, may fall to just nothing. It is too common, to have a name to be alive and yet to be dead: Read this, and tremble lest it should be your case. When we are lazy and asleep, our adversary is awake: when we are slothful and negligent, then he is diligent. I consider your age, I know where you dwell, I am not unacquainted with your temptations. Wherefore, I cannot but be afraid of you, lest, by both inward and outward fire, the bush be singed: Though, if God be in it, it cannot be burnt up.

Give me leave to be in some measure fearful of you, and jealous over you, and to mind you of what you know already. Principles of civility will be but as broken reeds, to stay our souls upon; without those higher principles, which are planted in the soul, by the working of the Spirit of God. O remember what meltings sometimes you have had; remember, how solicitously you did enquire after Christ, how earnestly you seemed to ask the way to Zion with your face thitherward. Oh, take heed of losing those impressions you once had, take not up with a sleight work. True conversion is a great thing, and another kind of business, than most of the world take it to be. O therefore be not satisfied with some convictions, taking them for conversion: much less, with resting in a formal lifeless profession.

There is such a thing as being almost a Christian; nay, as drawing back unto perdition: and some, that are not far from the kingdom of heaven, may never come there. Beware lest you lose the reward the promise is made to him that holdeth fast, and holdeth out, unto the end and overcometh.

Labour to forget what is behind and to press forward towards things that are before. He that is contented with just grace enough to get to heaven and escape hell, and desires no more; may be sure, he hath none at all: and is far from being made partaker of the divine nature. Labour to know what it is, to converse with God; strive to do every thing, as in his presence; design in all; act, as one that stands within sight of the grave and eternity. I say again, do what you do, as if you were sure God stood by and looked upon you, and exactly observed and recorded every thought word and action; and you may very well suppose that, which cannot be otherwise

Let us awake, and fall to our work in good earnest: Heaven or hell are before us, and death behind us. What do we mean to sleep! dulness in Gods service is very uncomfortable, and at the best will cost us dear: and, to be contented with such a frame, is a certain symptom of a hypocrite. O, how will such tremble, when God shall call them to give an account of their stewardship; and tell them, They may no longer be stewards. Should they fall sick, and the Devil and conscience fall upon them, what inconceivable perplexity would they then be in!

O, live more upon invisibles and let the thoughts of their excellency put life into your performances. You must be contented to be laughed at for preciseness and singularity. A Christian's walking is not with men but with God; and, he hath great cause to suspect his love to God, who doth not delight more in conversing with God, and being conformed to him, than in conversing with the world, and being conformed to it.

How can the love of God dwell in that man, who liveth without God in the world? without both continual walking with him in his whole conversation, and those more peculiar visits of him in prayer, meditation, spiritual ejaculations, and other duties of religion; and the workings of faith, love, holy desires, delight, joy, and spiritual sorrow in them! Think not that our walking with God cannot consist with worldly business: yes, but religion makes us spiritual in common actions, and there is not an action in a man's life, in which a man is not to labour to make it a religious act, by a looking to the rule in it, and eying of God's glory; and thus he may be said to walk with God. To this we must endeavour to rise, and never be content till we reach to it, and if this seem tedious (as to degenerate nature it will) we must know that we have so much of enmity against God still remaining, and are under depravation and darkness, and know not our true happiness: Such a soul is sick, and it hath lost its taste, which doth not perceive an incomparable sweetness in walking with God, without whom all things else under heaven are gall and bitterness, and to be little valued by every true Christian.

But we are all apt even at the worst, to say, that we prefer God above all things; but we must know that we have very deceitful hearts: and those who, being enlightened, know for what high ends they should act, and what a fearful condition even a hazard in our case, is; these I say, will not believe their own hearts without diligent search and good grounds.

Rest not in any condition in which your security is not founded upon that sure bottom, the Lord Jesus Christ. Labour to attain to this, to love God for himself, and to have your heart naturalized and suited to spiritual things. O for a heart to rejoice and work righteousness! O that we could do the will of God, with more activity, delight, and constancy! If we did know more of God, we should love him more; and then God would still reveal more of himself to us, and then we should see more and more cause to love him, and wonder that we love him no more. O this, this is our happiness, to have a fuller sight of God, to be wrapped up, and filled with the love of Christ; O let my soul for ever be thus employed: Lord, Whom have I in heaven but thee, and there is none in earth, that I can desire in comparison of thee.

You hear what kind of language he spake; and you may easily perceive what it was that swallowed up his heart, and where his delight, treasure, and life was. O how much do most of us, who go for Christians fall short of these things: and how vast a distance between his experience, and ours; and what reason have we to read these lines with blushing, and to blot the paper with tears? and to lay aside this book awhile, and to fall upon our faces before the Lord and bemoan the cursed unsuitableness of our hearts unto God; and to bewail that we do so little understand what this walking with God, and living by faith means! O at what a rate do some Christians live! and how low, flat, and dull are others. His love to Christ and souls, made him very desirous to spend, and he spent in the work of the ministry; accordingly he did comply with the first loud and clear call to preach the everlasting gospel; and, though he was but about two and twenty years old, yet he came to that work like one that understood what kind of employment, preaching was He was a workman that needed not to be ashamed, that was thoroughly furnished for every good word and work; one that was able to answer gainsayers, one in whom the word of God dwelt richly; one full of the spirit and power; one that hated sin with a perfect hatred, and loved holiness with all his soul; in whom religion in its beauty did shine; one, that knew the terrors of the Lord, and knew how to beseech sinners, in Christ's stead, to be reconciled unto God: One, that was a son of thunder, and a son of consolation: In a word, I may speak that of him which Paul spake of Timothy, that, I knew none like-minded, that did naturally care for souls. And, had he lived to have preached often, O what use might such a man have been of in his generation! one, in whom learning and holiness did, as it were, strive which should excel. He never preached publicly but twice, and then he came to it as if he had been used to that work forty years; delivering the word of God with that power and majesty, with that tenderness and compassion, with that readiness and freedom, that it made his hearers almost amazed: He was led into the mystery of the gospel, and he spoke nothing to others but what was the language of his heart, and the fruit of great experience, and which one might easily perceive had no small impression first upon his own spirit.

His first and last sermons they were upon communion and intimate converse with God, out of Job xxii. 21. A subject that few Christians under heaven were better able to manage than himself, and that scarce any could handle so feelingly as he; for, he did for some considerable time maintain such an intimate familiarity with God, that he seemed to converse with him, as one friend doth converse with another. This text he made some entrance into, whilst he was here: but, the perfecting of his acquaintance with God was a work fitter for another world.

He was one that kept an exact watch over his thoughts, words and actions, and made a review of all that passed him, at least once a day, in a solemn manner He kept a diary in which he did write down every evening what the frame of his spirit had been all the day long, especially in every duty. He took notice what incomes and profit he received; in his spiritual traffique; what returns from that far country; what answers of prayer, what deadness and flatness, and what observable providences did present themselves, and the substance of what they had been doing; and any wanderings of thoughts, inordinancy in any passion; which, though the world could not discern he could. It cannot be conceived by them which do not practise the same, to what a good account did this return! This made him to retain a grateful remembrance of mercy, and to live in a constant admiring and adoring of divine goodness; this, brought him to a very intimate acquaintance with his own heart; this, kept his spirit low and fitted him for freer communications from God; this made him more lively and active; this helped him to walk humbly with God, this made him speak more affectionately and experimentally to others of the things of God: and in a word, this left a sweet calm upon his spirits, because he every night made even his accounts; and if his sheets should prove his winding sheet, it had been all one: for, he could say his work was done, so that death could not surprize him.

Could this book [of his experiences, and register of his actions] have been read, it might have contributed much to the compleating of this discourse, and the quickning of some and the comforting of others. But these things being written in characters, the world hath lost that jewel.

He studied the scriptures much, and they were sweeter to him than his food; and he had an excellent faculty in opening the mind of God in dark places

In the latter part of his life he seemed quite swallowed up with the thoughts of Christ, heaven, and eternity; and the nearer he came to this the more swift his motion was to it and the more unmixed his designs for it; and he would much perswade others to an universal free respect to the glory of God, in all things; and making religion ones business, and not to mind these great things by the by.

CHAP XII. Ministers not to carry on low Designs.

HE was not a little concerned about Ministers; that, above all men, they should take heed, lest they carried on poor low designs, instead of wholly eying of the interest of God, and souls. He judged, that, to take up preaching as a trade, was altogether inconsistent with the high spirit of a true gospel minister: He desired, that those who seemed to be devoted to the ministry, would be such, first, heartily to devote their all to God; and then that they should endeavour to have a dear love to immortal souls.

He was very ready to debase himseif; and humbly to acknowledge, what he found amiss in himself, and laboured to amend himself and others. ‘This saith he, I most seriously confess, that I must needs reproach myself for deficiency in a Christian spiritual remembrance of you (speaking to a dear friend) and for a decay in a quick tender touch, as of other things, so of what relates to yourself in the spirituality of it. Not that I think not of you or of God; but, that my thoughts of you, and spiritual things, are not so frequent, favoury and affectionate, as they ought to be.’

‘By this reflection you may easily perceive that I see farther in duty than I do in practice. The truth of it is, I grudge that thoughts and affection should run out any whither freely, but to God. And what I now desire for myself, I desire for you likewise, that God would sweeten the fountain, our natures I mean, that every drop flowing from thence may savour of something of God within. Thoughts are precious, affections are more precious, the best that we are worth; and, when they flow in a wrong channel, all Gods precious dispensations towards us are lost; all that God hath spent upon us, is lost, and spent in vanity. I speak this, out of a dear respect to your soul, and God's honour, whom, I am loath, should be a loser by his kindness I know, you have many objects, upon which you may be too apt to let out your dear affections. I say again, my jealousie is left (there being so many channels, wherein they may run) God lose his due I desire therefore, in humility and tenderness, that this may be as a hint to you from the spirit of God, to look inwards to the frame and disposition of your soul, and to make trial thereof by the natural outgoings of your affections; and then, expostulate the case with your own soul. If Christ have my warmest love, why is it thus with me? If God have my heart, why am I so thought ful about the world! If I indeed love him best. How cometh it to pass that I find more strong delightf•• constant acting of my affections towards my rela••¦ons, myself, or any worldly thing than. I do after him! O, the depth of the hearts deceitfulness.’

‘Dear and honoured friend, trust not a surmisatrust not to a slight view of your heart, or the first apprehensions you may have of yourself; but, go down into the secrets of your heart, try and fear, fear and try. An evidence is abundantly more than all the trouble that you can be at, in the acquiring of it: And the trouble, that there is good ground for, in an unevidenced state: is far greater than that which may seem to be in searching for it. Yea, to an awakened soul, what is the trouble in clearing its evidences, but their sense or fear of their not being clear, and of the deceitfulness of their hearts. The reality of that evil, which tender souls so dread, doth lie by in its full weight, (though not felt,) upon the drousie ungroundedly secure sinner.’

‘I speak in love; give me leave, to remember you of some touches that you had formerly upon your spirit under the means of grace; remember, how much you were sometims affected under preaching. Did you never say that these sermons upon hardness of heart, softened yours? Inquire I pray, whether those convictions which were then upon your heart, are not worn off, by the incumbrances of the world: If, upon inquiry, you find that they are, it is high time for you to look about you, and repent, and not only to do your first works, but to strive to outgo them’

‘I have with grief, taken a review of the frame of my own spirit, when I was at your house; and I have no small sense of the distemper of my soul, whereby I was betrayed to too great an indifference in the things of God: and, finding by sad experience, that I was more apt (amongst those carnal comforts and affairs) to lose that relish, and savour of divine things that I was wont to have; and those delightful appearances of God which I was through rich grace, acquainted with, while I was more sequestred from the world and earthly delights [not but that I find my heart at the best, under the highest advantages of closest communion, too unwilling to endeavour after, and maintain that gracious sense and acknowledgement of God which I would fain obtain unto:] I say, observing mine own experiences, and knowing that your heart was something akin to mine, fearing lest multiplicity of business, should expose you also, to the same hazard; christian passion could not but put me upon arming of you against those temptations, to which your occasions make you subject.’

‘The desire of my soul for you is, that you may travel safely through a dangerous wilderness, to a blessed Canaan; that you may quit yourself like a Christian in the opposing and conquering all your enemies; and, at last, come triumphing out of the field, and that you may behave yourself like a pilgrim and stranger in a far country, who are looking for a city that hath foundations; and that we may meet together with joy at our fathers house, and sit down with him in eternal glory. O that word glory is so weighty, if we did believe, that it would make the greatest diligence we can use to secure it seem light. O that far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory! O for more faith! Lord, increase our faith and then there would be nothing wanting to make us put forth the utmost strength of our soul, and to improve every moment of time, to catch hold of all advantages and to make use of all means possible for the attainment of such glorious ends.’

‘But, O these unbelieving hearts! let us join our complaints and let us all break out into bitter lamentations over them. May not we, with as good reason as that distressed father over his possessed child, bring our hearts into the presence of our Saviour, and cry out with tears, and say, that it is these unbelieving hearts, which sometimes cast us into the fire, and sometimes into the water: Yea worse, every time we forsake God, and prefer any thing before him, we part with life for death, with heaven for hell.’

Give me leave to come yet a little nearer to you: ‘What an advantage would a full persuasion of the truth and excellency of gospel discoveries, bring to your soul, if you would but seriously, and with all your strength, drive on true spiritual designs. O, how easily might you then go under all your burdens. If your care for the things of this world were but rightly subordinate to the things of eternity how chearfully might you go on with your business! If you sought first the kingdom of heaven and the righteousness thereof; then all other things would be added (so far as they are necessary or good for you.)’

‘Let me therefore at this time put you upon that duty of raising your mind from earth to heaven, from the creature to the Creator, from the world to God. Indeed, it is a matter of no small difficulty, to discover that disorder that is in our souls, when we are solicitous about temporary objects, and employments: But, there are but few surer discoveries of it, than insensibility and not complaining of it. For, when the soul is indeed raised to spiritual objects, and to understand clearly its eternal interest; when it doth in good earnest, take God for its portion, and prefer him above all, then it will quickly be sensible of the souls outgoings after other objects, and even grudge that any time should be taken up in the pursuit of the creature, and that any below God should be followed with earnest pleasure and constancy. It would have God have the best, and it would do nothing else but love, serve, and enjoy God. For my own part, I cannot but wonder that God will give us leave to love him. O blessed goodness! O infinite condescension! Those that believingly seek him he is not ashamed to be called their God. I am sensible in some measure of your burdens, and indeed that must needs be a burden that keeps the soul from pursuing its chiefest good. My prayers for you are that you may have such teachings from God as may make you understand how far heavenly things are more precious than earthly, and that you may with all your might seek, mind, and love that which hath most of true excellency in it, which hath the only ground of real comfort here, and of eternal happiness hereafter.’

CHAP. XIII. His Love and Compassion to Souls.

HE was full of pity and compassion to souls, and yet greatly grieved and ashamed that he did no more to express his sense of the worth of souls and that his bowels did no more sensibly yearn over them, who he had just cause to fear, were in a christless state. Though there were few of his kindred and relations, nay of his neighbours and acquaintances but he did make a personal application to, either by letters or conference: Yet, for all this, who more ready to cry out of the want of love to souls, and unprofitableness to others in his generation, that he was no more full of compassion, and that he made no better improvement of all the visits that he made; in which, we should not make carnal pleasure and recreation our end, but the imparting and receiving of some spiritual gift. This made him, after a considerable absence from a dear friend, to groan out these complaints. ‘God by his providence hath oft brought us together; but to how little purpose, God and our consciences know. As for my part, I may justly bewail my barrenness. Oh, that I should be of so little use where I come! Oh, that my tongue and heart should be still so unfruitful▪ I am ready to hope sometimes, that, if it should please God in his providence to bring us again together, we may be more profitable one to another.’

‘And this indeed makes me more desirous of coming to you again, than any thing else, That I may do some good among you. Oh, how few study to advance the interest of Christ, and the benefit of one anothers souls in their visits, as they should and might do! I am not able, at present, to order my affairs so as to come comfortably over to you, but I hope, e're long, the Lord will give me leave to see you, and be refreshed by you, I desire to supply my absence by this sure token of my remembrance of you, and also that I might have an opportunity for that which we ought to eye most in the enjoyment of one anothers society. But I have found, that partly because of the narrowness of my heart, not being enlarged to bring forth into act what I have greatly desired, partly because of the malice of the enemy of our souls, who endeavours all that possible he can, to lay stumbling blocks in our way to real union and nearer acquaintance with God and Christian communion: from these, and other causes, it is, that I have been too little beneficial to you formerly.’

‘It may be, I may write that with freedom, which in presence I should not have spoken. I shall take occasion from your desire of my presence with you to look higher to the desires of our souls to be in conjunction and communion with the highest good, who fills up all relations to our souls; who is our Father, our Husband, our Friend, our God; yea our all in all. But, when I say, He is all in all, I mean more than that which we count all; for every one doth confess, that it is God alone, that doth bless all other things to us, and that it is not of the nature of those things that we enjoy, that they are blessings; but it is God which makes them comforts to us. And thus God is to be acknowledged, All in all common enjoyment! ’

‘But, besides this, God is something to the soul, which he is by himself, and not in the mediation of the creatures; where God is a portion, and lived upon as our true happiness; He is, not only the compliment of other things, but he himself is the soul's sufficiency. I am a little obscure, I desire to be plainer, I mean, that through the dispensation of the gospel, God is to be lived upon, delighted in, and chosen before all: for, for this very end, hath Christ appeared, that he might make God approachable by man, and that we who are afar off, may be made nigh.’

‘There is a nearness to God which we are not only allowed, but called to in the loving dispensations of the gospel, so that now we are not to be strangers any longer, but friends; we are to have fellowship and communion with God. Why do not our hearts even leap for joy? why do not our souls triumph in these discoveries of love? Even because we know not the greatness of our privileges, the highness of our calling, the excellency of our advancement, the blessedness of this life, the sweetness of these employments, the satisfaction of these enjoyments, the comfort of this heavenly life, the delights of this communion with God. We know not the things which belong to our peace; and thus when God calls us to that which he sent his Son for, when Christ offers us, that which cost him so dear; we with the greatest unworthiness, the vilest ingratitude, refuse, slight, and contemn it. What think we! doth it not go even to the heart of Christ; and (to speak after the manner of men) doth it not grieve him to the soul to behold his greatest love scorned, and the end of his agony to be more vilely accounted of than the basest of our lusts?’

‘Let us therefore according to that high calling wherewith we are called, enter into a more intimate acquaintance with God, and as we find our souls acting naturally towards those things, which are naturally dear to us; so let us strive to lighten our spiritual affections.’

‘We are very apt to look upon duties as burdens rather than privileges and seasons of enjoying the greatest refreshments; but these apprehensions are very low and earthly. O that we could at length set ourselves to live a spiritual life, to walk with God, and out of a new nature, to savour and relish those things which are above! Could we but really, intensely, believingly desire that which is real happiness, and the heaven of heaven, union and communion with God; these desires would bring in some comfort.’

‘As for me, you must give me allowance to get my affections more emptied into God; tho'it be with a diminution of love to you; and blessed will that day be, when all love will be fully swallowed up into God But spiritual love doth not destroy natural affections, or relative obligations, but perfect and rectify them; and so I may, giving up myself to God be still yours.’

CHAP. XIV. His Trouble at the Barrenness of Christians.

HE was not a little troubled at the barrenness of Christians in their discourse, and their not improving their society for the quickning and warming of their hearts; the expence of precious time unaccountably, the ill management of visits, and the impertinency of their talk, he oft reflected upon with a holy indignation. it vex• him to the soul, to see what prizes sometimes were put into the hands of Christians and how little skill and will they had to improve them, for the building up of one another in the most holy faith: and that they who should be encouraging of one another in the way to Zion, communicating of experiences, and talking of their country and of the glory of that kingdom which the saints are heirs of, could satisfie themselves with common vain stuff; as if Christ, heaven and eternity were not things of as great worth as anything else that usually sounds in the ears and comes from the lips of professors. That the folly of common discourse among Christians might appear more, and that he might discover how little such language did become those that profess themselves Israelites, and that say, they are Jews; he once sat down silent and took out his pen and ink, and wrote down in short-hand the discourses that passed for sometime together, amongst those who pretended to more than common understanding in the things of God: and after a while he took his paper and read it to them, and asked them whether such talk was such as they would be willing God should record. This he did, that he might shame them out of that usual unobservedand unlamented unprofitable communication and fruitless squandering away that inestimable jewel, opportunity. ‘Oh to spend an honour or two together, and to hear scarce a word for Christ or that speaks peoples hearts in love with holiness; Is not this writing a brave rational divine discourse! Fy, fy. Where's our love to God and souls all this while, where's our sense of the preciousness of time, of the greatness of our account? Should we talk thus, if we believed that we should hear of this again at the day of judgment? And do we not know that we must give an account of every idle word? Is this like those that understand the language of Canaan! Did saints in former times use their tongues to no better purpose! Would Enoch, David, or Paul, have talked thus Is this the sweetest communion of saints, upon earth! How shall we do to spend eternity in speaking the praises of God, if we cannot find matter for an hours discourse.’

‘Doth not this speak aloud our hearts to be very empty of grace, and that we have little sense of those spiritual and eternal concerns upon us?’

As the barrenness and empty converse of Christians was a sin that he greatly bewailed, so the want of love among Christians, and their divisions, did cost him many tears and groans; and he did what he could to heal all the breaches that he could, by his tender prudent and Christian advice and counsel; and if prayers, tears intreaties and counsels would prevail and cement differences, they should not long be open. Nay if his letters would signifie any thing to make an amicable and Christian correspondency, if should not be wanting. And because, the wounds of division are yet bleeding, I shall insert two healing letters of his, which speak what spirit he was of: Which take as follows.

CHAP. XV. Two Letters to cement Differences, and cause Love among Christians.

IT cannot be expected that wounds should be healed till their cause be removed; that which moveth me to write to you, at present and puts me upon intentions of writing again, is, that I may do my utmost, by mouth and pen, for the removal of that which is the cause of inward grief and trouble of my soul, and, I am persuaded, of others also as well as mine, viz. those divisions, that I could not but observe to be between yourself and another Christian friend. I hope, after my asking counsel not only of my own heart, but of God also; he hath directed me to that which may be to his own glory, and the good of your soul; and not only for the removing of grief, but the rejoycing of the hearts of them upon whom former divisions had any effect.

I therefore desire you to entertain these following lines, as the issues of deep affection to your soul, and the honour of religion: and I beseech you read them, not only as from me who desire your good with the strength of my soul, but as from God himself of whose love your good improvement will be a token. That end which I propose to myself, I cannot but perswade myself, you yourself design, commend and desire; which, Christian charity and that sweet meek gospel spirit, which is so highly and frequently commended by our Saviour to the practice of his disciples. O that, where there hath been any breaches, there might be the nearer union: and that ye might be joined together in the same spirit, might keep the unity of the spirit in the bond of peace.

And for this end that you would remove all old hindrances: watch continually lest you give, and be careful not to take occasion of offence. The necessity, usefulness, sweetness of true spiritual love appears by the word of Gods frequent urging of it, by the sense of Christians, the uncomfortableness and deformity of the contrary. Now, that you may in an unintermitted constancy enjoy peace within and without and rejoice my soul; I desire you to join your own endeavours with the consideration of those things which I shall now and hereafter send to you

First Consider, that it is a Christian's duty to go out of himself, to lay down his own ends and interests, and wholly to take upon him God's cause, to do all for God, and to act as under God, and to be God's instrument in our souls and bodies which are God's. Thus did God create man for his own glory and not that man should seek himself: And when man fell, he fell out of God into himself; out of that divine order and composure of mind in which God had made him, into confusion; from a love of God, into a corrupt self-love and self seeking. Now if we do but descend into our souls, and observe the actings, intents, and contrivances of them, we cannot but observe how confusedly and abominably all work together for the pampering, pleasing, and advancing of self. We are not to think that if we do not presently discover this in ourselves, that it is not so with us: For, in some degree it is in every one, even in the truly regenerate, as far as they have the relics of corruption in them, so far they have in their souls this self-love. Now this disorder in our minds whereby they are taken off from their right ends is that very natural corruption and depravedness which we received from Adam, and it is, and, to a spiritual sense, ought to be, worse than hell itself; in as much as the cause doth eminently contain all and more evil than the effect.

This is the spiritual death, whereby we are dead in sin, the fruit of the first curse, Thou shalt die the death. The soul's life in this world, is its being in God, and living in God, and enjoyment of God; and the soul's eternal life will be, so to know God as to be formed into his likeness, and to be received into a full participation of, and communion with God. The soul's death here, is its being fallen off from God, and its beings carried into itself; and its eternal death will be, an utter separation from him.

Now mankind being thus fallen from God, Christ is sent for this very end, to bring man back again to God; and then man is brought unto God, when he is brought out of that state of self love into that state whereby he gives up himself to God. Thus the souls being quickned by the Spirit of God, leaveth off living to itself, which was its death; and lives to God, which is its life, Here comes in the great duty of denying of ourselves for Christ's sake; which indeed were no duty, if there were nothing in us contrary to God.

This then is our duty not to seek our own things, before the things of God; to lay God's glory at the foundation of all our actions, and if there be any thing in us contrary to that, to give it no leave to stand in competition to God.

Now, were this deeply rooted in our hearts, how would contention, anger, wrath, and heart-burning and all things of this nature cease? Such influence would the taking God's part against self have into the quiet and peace of men, that it cannot be without it.

We see how wisely God hath ordered things, that the very act of man's being off from God, should be the cause of confusion, war, and misery: and what can be more just and equal than this, that God, who is the author of our being, should be the end of our being? O then, that once our minds were again reduced to this frame, To live wholly to God? O that we were wrought into a thorough prejudice against self which stands between us and true peace! I beg of you to spare some time from the world, and return into privacy, where you may apply this to your own soul.

My prayer to God for you, out of the strong yearnings of my soul toward you is, that he would make this effectual to its intended end, for the inward peace of your soul, for your comfortable walking with God, in this life, and that condition wherein the wisdom of God hath placed you. I write these lines with the strength of affection; I feel fear, grief, compassion, working strongly. O pity me in the midst of all these, whilst I cannot call to remembrance the cause of these without a flood of tears. Fulfil therefore my joy, in being of one mind: yea, if there be any consolation in Christ, if any comfort in love, if any fellowship of the Spirit, if any bowels of mercy; fulfil ye my joy, and be likeminded, having the same love, being of one accord, of one mind, Phil. ii. 1, 2. I leave you to the love and mercy of God, and to the working of his Spirit, which alone is able to put life and power into these words. Which that he would do, is the earnest request, and fervent prayer of yours,

John Janeway.

Now, upon a faithful perusal of this letter, it pleased the Lord to give a meek and more complying spirit, and in a great measure it wrought its intended effect. The noble design of this sweet peace-maker, took so far as to produce an ingenious acknowledgment, and sorrowful bewailing of the want of that self-denial, humility, meekness, and love, which doth so much become our sacred profession. Upon the hearing of this good news, how strangely was this good man transported! Upon the receipt of a letter from the former friend, which gave no small satisfaction and hopes that his former endeavours were not in vain. And, that he might drive the nail to the head, he speedily backs his former letter with a second; which speaks these words.

Dear Friend,

MY soul is enlarged towards you and my affections work within me; and yet give me leave now to lay aside so weak flames of natural affection, and to kindle my soul with divine love Here there is no fear of running out too far while all is in Christ, and for Christ. O that now I could let out the strength of my soul, not as to yourself but as to God! O that my heart were more enlarged, that it may be comprehensive of a more full true Christian love! God is altogether lovely, and to be loved for himself, and we are so far dark, ignorant, and blind, as we do not see and account him most amiable. O let me have such discoveries of his excellency, that my heart may pant; thirst and break for its earnest longings after the richest participations of him; that I may for ever be swallowed up of his love! O that I may love him a thousand times more than I do! That I may rejoice in him, and take the sweetest complacency and delight in him alone; and that I could let out my affections most, where I see any thing of himself, any beams of the image of his holiness, and that beareth the impression of his spirit. Had you visited me from the dead, could my affections have moved more strongly, or my rejoicing have been greater than they were at the receipt of those lines which I had from you, wherein so much of Christ in you, and the goodness of Christ to me did appear. Fulfil my joy in the Lord, refresh my bowels, and let not my rejoicing be in vain. If it hath pleased the Lord to make the imperfect and weak endeavours of his unworthy servant, any way subservient to his own glory in you, it is that which I account myself unworthy of, and desire to receive it from him as a manifestation of the riches of his free goodness to myself; knowing myself to be unworthy to be his instrument in the meanest service, much more in so great a one as this is. Hoping and persuading myself of the effectual work of my former letter, I am encouraged to write again both because of my promife, and your expectation, and the weighty nature of the subject that I was then upon, which was, love. True Christian love, which is a thing so comely, so beautiful and sweet, and of such weighty power all actions to make them divine and excellent, that there is no labour lost in endeavouring to get more of it, even in those in whom it most aboundeth. The apostle, 1 Thess. iv. 9, 10. Though he knew that they were taught of God to love one another, and that they did it towards all the brethren, yet, even them he beseecheth to abound more and more in that grace of love. The former principle out of which this love doth arise (as I informed you in my former letter) was the putting off our own interests and putting on God's Now I shall proceed in minding you of another Christian duty, which is effectual to the knitting us together in a firm operative love, and that is this; that a Christian is to walk as one that is a member of Christ Jesus. Into what near and close union are those that are given him by the father received! How hath the Holy Ghost chosen out all the nearest natural relations to express and shadow out the closeness of that spiritual relation that is between Christ and his! Christ is our king and we his people, he is our master and we are his servants, he is our shepherd and we the sheep of his pasture, he is our friend and we his, he is our husband and we are his spouse; he the vine we the branches, he our head and we are his members, he is in us and we in him, he is our life. This duty will have influence upon our affections these ways.

First, As Christ is our head and we are his members, so he hath an absolute command over us. And where this relation is real, obedience to the commands of Christ is sweet and without constraint and force; now this is Christ's command that we should love one another; by this saith he shall all men know you are my disciples if you love one another. Those relations into which Christ, receiveth his, speak and hold forth a willing cheerful submission to the commands of Christ, and what duty is there in all the gospel which is more frequently and earnestly pressed than this. A new commandment give I unto you that you love one another as I have loved you, so love one another. So full is the whole scripture of obligations, both upon conscience and ingenuity to this duty, that the whole stream of it seems to run into this channel of love. But Christ's command is such an obligation as one that hath any spiritual sense to feel the strength of it, cannot break It is Christ hath commanded, and shall not we obey? Shall not the love of Christ constrain us? Shall we be so unkind to him who hath been so kind to us, as to stand it out with him in so equal a command? Shall not the sweetness of Christ overcome us, that seeing his love was so great, as not to spare his life for us, yea, and suffer more for us I believe than we think he did nay, I may say than we can conceive he did, and that which commands his love to us is, that he should do and suffer so much for us, that of his creatures we were become his enemies? Why should we not then cheerfully submit to him in this one command, love one another? Doth not the very word love carry in it at the first hearing abundance of alluring violence! This is Christ's yoke, and here we may well say, his yoke is easie and his burden is light. What is there in a life of divine love that we need be afraid of? What is there in this command that is grievous? How can this yoke be uneasie? What reason to be loath to take it on? But such is the base degeneracy and unreasonableness of corrupted nature that when any thing comes in competition with self-love, then all bonds must be broken, all yokes must be broken, all yokes must be cast of, and nothing will then keep us in, but we must and will take our own part though never so bad. And our own part in the heat of passion must seem best, though it be contrary to infinite righteousness, which is God himself. O that we could once learn to lay aside this natural prejudice which we have against whatsoever doth thwart our humours, though it be never so just holy and rational. O that we could look more narrowly and search more exactly into ourselves, and to become abominable in our own eyes, and rather take any part than our own, we should see so much deceitfulness in ourselves, as that we should think our case bad though it seem never so good to our natural self, till we apply it to the rule. Rule, nature would have none but itself; and though in our better composure of mind, we may receive some other rule; yet in our passions we cannot spare time to go to any other rule, but we take that which is next to hand, and self will be sure to be that. But we must, if we will be true Christians, learn to deny self, and wholly to submit ourselves to the command of Christ, as our only rule. O, let the power of Christ's love, and command, make us obedient to this command of love!

Secondly, If we are to walk as members of Christ, who is our head; this hath influence upon our affections to oblige us to love one another, as, from the command which the head hath over the members, so, from the conformity that is to be in the members to the head. The head and the members are not of two several natures, but the same nature passeth from the head through all the members: Now if we be ingrafted into Christ, we must become of the same nature with him. Let us be followers of Christ as dear children, and walk in love, as Christ also hath loved us. Paul bids us to be followers of himself, as he was a follower of Christ; Christ then is to be our great pattern: He commands us to learn of him, for he was meek. For us to think to attain unto a perfect conformity to him, is in vain; but, as much as our natures are capable of, we are to strive for it. Christ's love to us hath breadth, and length, and depth, and height, which passeth knowledge. Greater love hath no man than this, that a man should lay down his life for his friend; but herein Christ commended his love to us, in that, while we were enemies, Christ died for us, Behold what manner of love is this, that Christ hath bestowed on us! Hereby perceive we the love for God, that is Christ because he laid down his life for us, 1 John iii. 16. His inference is there the same with mine, and that in a higher degree; we ought to lay down our lives for the brethren. If life, then sin; then passion and wrath; then a base, proud, self-pleasing and contradicting humour. Do we see any loveliness or beauty in Christ Jesus? Is there no excellency in his sweetness, pity, and patience? Is not his lovingkindness amiable? And would not something like this in us, be desirable? Had he more reason to love us than we have to love one another? O, let our souls be overcome with the thoughts of this love of Christ: let our hearts be kindled and blown up to a flame of love, by it O, when shall this dear, precious pure, eternal love of his, overpower our souls? When shall its have it proper effect upon us, to make us to desire earnestly to be like our beloved! When shall we put on his beauty! O how lovely should we then look! Let us put off that deformity that is upon our souls, which makes us so unlike to Christ; yea, which makes us loathsome in his eyes. Pride, passion, worldliness, are the soul-de formities, which keep Christ at such a distance from us, and which hinder his more sweet, frequent, and intimate converse with us.

It is only that of himself which Christ seeth in us, which he delighteth in. For, in him is the perfection of all beauty and excellency, and whatsoever loveliness is in any thing else, comes from him, is like him, and leads to him. Would we know, how much we are beloved of him, let us see how much we are like him; for he cannot but love that which is like himself, and if we would be like him, we must put on love, for God is love, and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God and God in him, 1 John iv. 16.

Thirdly, If we ought to walk towards one another as members of the same body, whereof Christ is the head, what can speak a closer union than commembership? No man ever yet hated his own flesh, but nourisheth and cherisheth it. But we do not feel the power of this oneness, as we ought to do. We are many; and where there is division, there will be dissention; that we may therefore be more one, let us be more in putting off ourself. and going into Christ. Here, let us look into the loathsomness of our natures, whilst off from God; which is the cause of all this confusion, and if we cannot see its deformity in itself, let us see it in reflection in its bitter effects; and when we see our own deformity, we shall see less cause to love ourselves, and more cause to love others, than Christ had to love us. Let us look upon our oneness in Christ, and see if we can thence become one in affections. Christ saith, I and the children which thou hast given me; we have one spiritual Father, we are brethren; let us love as brethren. The cause of this union is our being made partakers of Christ's nature, and baptized into the same spirit with him: and, if we have at any time experienced the more lively and full incomes of this Spirit of Christ, how did it set the heart on fire! The soul is then too narrow to contain its own affections; how dearly then could we look upon a saint! How would pride and wrath vanish, and melt down into meekness, humility, and love! Did we never experience what this meaneth? Then, let the remembrance of the sweetness of it, renew it in us. O, a life of spiritual love is a life indeed, a heaven upon earth! This is a good rule; when we find ourselves in a spiritual temper, let us examine ourselves then, and enquire how we like such a frame: let us remember the voice of the spirit in us, and labour to have our judgment and affections always after, so ballanced.

Fourthly, Are we members of Christ, we do not say, we do not love Christ. If we do indeed love Christ, let us love him wherever we find him. Christ is in all those that are his. Let us fear offending Christ in his, for what is done to them, he will take as done to himself. It will be said in that great day, In as much as ye did it unto these, ye did it unto me. Let us think what we will of it at present, the world will find this true to their cost. And, if we act as in Christ, we shall find ourselves as much concerned for him, as for ourselves, and more too. Oh the wrongs that are done to him, we shall reckon done to us. If we are Christs, Christ's interest will be ours, and his injuries will be ours. If we are Christ's, we will be as fearful of offending any of his, as of wronging ourselves. Christ himself is above the reach of our wrongs, to be touched by them in himself; but, in his members he suffers to this very day. If then Christ and we are one, and Christ and all his are one; let us love Christ in his, let us rejoice in Christ in his members, let us endeavour to requite Christ in his members: let us fear grieving the Spirit of Christ, in grieving the spirits of any of his dear ones. Wound not Christ in wounding the heart of his Beloved. O the preciousness, pleasure, and profit of this love, I beg of God to give you a full enjoyment of that sweetness and the joyful fruits of it, the Lord refresh you with a quick and constant sense and sight of his eternal love towards your soul; to which the assurance of true Christian love by the effectual work of the Comforter, may bring you. By this we know, that we are passed from death to life, because we love the brethren. If it shall please the Lord to give me leave to see you again, I shall come with strong expectations, and earnest desires of seeing a sweet alteration for the better in you, in your deportment, and carriage towards one that did deserve better at your hands. And what an effect hopes of this nature frustrated, will produce; I beseech you to judge. I pray God fill you with peace and joy. My hand is weary with writing, but my mind still runs forth in desires and prayers for you. I hope the Lord will take away all cause of writing any more of this subject unto you. Your letter gave my hopes a good beginning: I beseech the Lord to carry on what he hath begun to the glory of his goodness, that I may at every sight of you, see more of the image of Christ in you, and more of the power and beauty of this grace of love, and that I may find you drawn nearer to heaven, and see you with Christ in heaven when time shall be no more. I leave you in the arms of love.

John Janeway

By all this you may easily perceive what spirit acted him, and how much he was troubled for any divisions amongst the people of God. Indeed, he was of so loving, and lovely a disposition, that he even commanded the affections of most that knew him; and so humble he was, that he was ashamed to be loved for his own sake.

I can never forget a strange expression, that I have heard from him, concerning one that had a very ardent love for him. I know this, saith he, that I love no love but what is purely for Christ's sake, I would Christ might have all the love, he alone deserves it: for my part, I am afraid and ashamed of the love and respect of Christians. He saw so much pride, peevishness, and division among professors, that it did not a little vex his righteous soul, and made him think long, to be in a sweeter air, where there should be nothing but union, joy, and love. He could not endure to hear Christians speak reproachfully one of another, because they were of different judgments and persuasions. There where he saw most holiness, humility, and love, there he let out most of his affections. And he was of that holy man's mind, that it were pity that the very name of division were not buried; and that the time would come, that we might all dearly pay for our unbrotherly nay unchristian animosities.

CHAP. XVI. An Account of the latter Part of his Life.

FOR the latter part of his life; he loved like a man that was quite weary of the world, and that looked upon himself as a stranger here, and that lived in the constant sight of a better world. He plainly declared himself but a pilgrim that looked for a better country, a city that had foundations, whose builder and maker was God. His habit, his language, his deportment, all spoke him one of another world. His meditations were so intense, long, and frequent, that they ripened him apace for heaven, but somewhat weakned his body. Few Christians attain to such a holy contempt of the world, and to such clear believing, joyful, constant apprehensions of the transcendent glories of the unseen world.

He made it his whole business to keep up sensible communion with God, and to grow unto a humble familiarity with God, and to maintain it. And if by reason of company or any necessary diversions, this was in any measure interrupted; he would complain, like one out of his element, till his spirit was recovered into a delightful, more unmixed free intercourse with God. He was never so well satisfied, as when he was more immediately engaged in what brought him nearer to God; and by this he enjoyed those comforts frequently, which other Christians rarely meet with. His graces and experiences, toward his end grew to astonishment. His faith got up to a full assurance; his desires into a kind of enjoyment and delight. He was oft brought into the banquetting house, and there Christ's banner over him was love; and he sat down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was pleasant unto his taste. His eyes beheld the king in his beauty, and while he sat at his table, his spicknard did send forth its pleasant smell: he had frequent visions of glory, and this John lay in the bosom of his master, and was sure a very beloved disciple and highly favoured. His Lord oft called him up to the mount to him, and let him see his excellent glory, O the sweet foretastes that he had of those pleasures that are at the right hand of God. How oft was he feasted with the feast of fat things those wines on the lees well refined; and sometimes he was like a giant refresht with new wine, rejoicing to run the race that was set before him, whether of doing or suffering. He was even sick of love, and he could say to the poor unexperienced world, O taste and see! and to Christians, come and I will tell you what God hath done for my soul. O what do Christians mean, that they do not more to get their senses spirtually exercised! O why do they not make religion the very business of their lives, O why are the soul, Christ and glory thus despised? Is there nothing in communion with God? Are all those comforts of Christians, that follow hard after him, worth nothing? Is it not worth the while to make ones calling and election sure! O, why do men and women jest and dally in the great matters of eternity? Little do people think, what they slight, when they are seldom and formal in secret duties, and when they neglect that great duty of meditation, which I have through rich mercy, found so sweet and refreshing: O, what do Christians mean, that they keep at such a distance from Christ? Did they but know the thousandth part of that sweetness that is in him, they could not choose but follow him hard; they would run and not weary, and walk and not be faint.

He could sensibly and experimentally commend the ways of God to the poor unexperienced world, and say, His ways are pleasantness; and justifie wisdom and say, her paths were peace. He could take off those aspersions, which the devil, and the atheistical frantick sots, do cast upon godliness in the power of it. Here is one that could challenge all the atheists in the world to dispute; here is one could bring sensible demonstrations to prove a deity, and the reality and excellency of invisibles; which these ignorant fools and mad men, make the subject of their scorn: here is one that would not change delights with the greatest Epicures living, and vie pleasure with all the sensual rich gallants of the world. Which of them all could in the midst of their jollity say. This is the pleasure, that shall last for ever? Which of them can say among their cups and whores, I can now look death in the face, and, this very moment I can be content, yea glad, to leave these delights, as knowing, I shall enjoy better. And this he could do, when he fared deliciously in spritual banquets every day: He could, upon better reason than he did, say, Soul thou hast goods laid up for many years; He knew full well, that what he did here enjoy, was but a little to what he should have shortly. In his presence there is fulness of joy; at his right hand there are pleasures for evermore. Where is the Belshazzar, that would not quake in the midst of his cups, whilst he is quaffing and carouzing in bowls of the richest wine, if he should see a hand upon the wall writing bitter things against him, telling him that his joys are at an end, and that this night his soul must be required of him; that now, he must come away and give an account of all his ungodly pleasures, before the mighty God. Where is the sinner, that could be contented to hear the Lord roaring out of Zion, whilst be is roaring in the tavern? Which of them would be glad to hear the trumpet sound, and to hear that voice, Arise you dead and come to judgment? Which of them would rejoice to see the mountains quaking, the elements melting with fervent heat, and the earth consumed with flames; and the Lord Christ whom they despised, coming in the clouds with millions of his saints and angels, to be avenged upon those that know not God and obeyed not his gospel. Is not that a blessed state, when a man can lift up his head with joy, when others tremble with fear, and sink with sorrow? And this was the condition of this holy young man. In the midst of all worldly conforts he longed for death: and the thought of the day of judgment, made all his enjoyment sweeter. O, how did he long for the coming of Christ! Whilst some have been discoursing by him of that great and terrible dya of the Lord, he would smile, and humbly express his delight in the forethought of that approaching hour.

I remember, once there was a great talk that one had foretold that doomsday should be upon such a day: although he blamed their daring folly, that would pretend to know that which was hid from the angels themselves, and that the devil could not acquaint them with; yet granting their supposition to be true, what then said he? What, if the day of judgment were come, as it will most certainly come shortly! If I were sure, the dya of judgment were to begin within a hour, I should be glad with all my heart. If at this very instant, I should hear such thunderings, and see such lightnings, as Israel did at Mount Sinai; I am perswaded, my very heart would leap for joy But this I am confident of, through infinite mercy, that the very meditation of that day hath even ravished my soul, and the thought of the certainty and nearness of it, is more refreshing to me than the comforts of the whole world. Surely, nothing can more revice my spirits than to behold the blessed Jesus, the joy, life and beauty of my soul. Would it not more rejoice me than Joseph's waggons did old Jacob? I lately dreamed that the day of judgment was come: methought, I heard terrible cracks of thunder, and saw dreadful lightnings; the foundation of the earth did shake, and the heavens were rolled together as a garment: yea, all things visible were in a flame; methought I saw the graves opened, and the earth and sea giving up their dead; methought, I saw millions of angels, and Christ coming in the clouds. Methought, I beheld the ancient of days sitting upon his throne, and all other thrones cast down: methought, I beheld him whose garments were white as snow, and the hair of his head like pure wool: His throne was like the fiery flame, and his wheels as burning fire; a fiery stream issued and came forth from him; thousands of thousands ministred unto him; and ten thousand times ten thousand stood before him; and the judgment was set and the books were opened. O, but with what an extasie of joy was I surprized! Methought, it was the most heart-raising, and soul-ravishing sight, that ever my eyes beheld: and then I cried out. I have waited for thy salvation, O God; and so I mounted into the air, to meet my Lord in the clouds.

This I record, only to shew, how far he was from being daunted at the thoughts of death or judgment: and to let other Christians know, what is attainable in ths life; and what folly it is, for us to take up with so little, when our Lord is pleased to make such noble provisions for us, and by a wise and diligent improvement of those means which God hath offered us, we may have an entrance administred to us abundantly into the everlasing kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.

Oh how confortable, how honourable, and how profitable is this estate! These are your men that quit themselves like Christians. This is true gallantry, noble manhood, real valour! This was the condition of Mr. Janeway for about three years before he died. I will not deny but that he had some clouds; but he usually walked in a sweet, even, humble serenity of spirit, and his refreshing joys were more considerable than his despondings; and though he daily questioned many actions, yet did not question his state, but had his heart fixed upon that rock that neither waves nor winds could shake. His senses were still so spiritually exercised, as that he could look up to heaven as his country and inheritance, and to God as his Father, and to Christ as his Redeemer; and (that which is scarce to be heard of) he counted it the highest act of patience to be willing to live, and a very great pitch of self-denial to be contented to be in this world, and to dwell on this side a full and eternal enjoyment of that royal glorious One whom his soul was so much in love with. In a word, he had the most earnest desires to be dissolved and to be with Christ that I ever saw, read, or heard of, since the apostles times.

CHAP. XVII. His last Sickness and Death.

AND now the time draws nigh, wherein his longings shall be satisfied; he is called to his last work; and truly his deportment in it, was honourable; his carriage so eminently gracious, so meek, patient, fruitful, joyful, and thinkful, that it made all his friends stand and wonder, as being abundantly above their experience and reading: and those Christians that saw him, could not but admire God in him, and look upon him as one of the most singular instances of rich grace, and even bless God that their eyes ever saw, or their ears ever heard such things, and had such a sensible demonstration of the reality of invisibles.

He falls into a deep Consumptions.

His body is now shaken again, and he falls into a deep consumption; but, this messenger of God did not in the least damp him. Spitting of blood, was no ghastly thing to one that had his eye upon the blood of Jesus; faint sweats did not daunt him that had always such reviving cordials at hand. It's matter of joy to him, that he was now in some hopes of having his earnest desires satisfied.

After he had been a while sick, a sudden dimness seized upon his eyes; by and by his sight quite failed; and there was such a visible alteration in him, that he and others judged these things to be the sumptoms of death approaching. But when he was thus taken, he was not in the least surprized; but was lifted up with joy to thin, what a life he was going to, looing upon death itself as one of his Father's servants, and his friend that was sent a messenger to conduct him safely to his glorious palace.

When he felt his body ready to faint, he called to his mother and said, ‘Dear mother I am dying, but I beseech you not to be troubled; for, I am through mercy, quite above the fears of death, it's no great matter, I have nothing troubles me but the apprehensions of your grief. I am going to him whom I love above life?’

But it pleased the Lord to raise him again a little out of this fainting fit, for his Master had yet more work for him to do before he must receive his wages. Although his outwad man decayed apace, yet he is renewed in the inward man day by day: his graces were never more active, and his experiences were never greater. When one would have thought, he should have been taken up with his distemper, and that it had been enough for him to grapple with his pains, then he quite forgets his weakness; and is so swallowed up of the life to come, that he had scarce leisure to think of his sickness.

For several weeks together, I never heard the least word that savoured of any complaint or weariness under the hand of God; except, his eager desire to be with Christ, be counted complaining, and his haste to be in heaven be called impatience. Now's the time when one might have seen heaven and the glory of another world realized to sense. His faith grew exceedingly and his love was proportionable, and his joys were equal to both.

O the rare attainments! The high and divine expressions, that dropped from his mouth! I have not words to express what a strange, triumphant, angelical frame he was in, for some considerable time together. It was a very heaven upon earth, to see and hear a man admiring God at such a rate, as I never heard any, nor ever expect to hear or see more, till I come to heaven. Those that did not see cannot well conceive what a sweet frame he was in, for at least six weeks before he died. His soul was almost always filled with those joys unspeakable and full of glory. How oft would he cry out; O, that I could but let you know what I feel now! O, that I could show you what I see, that I could express the thousandth part of that sweetness that I now find in Christ! You would all then think it well worth the while to make it your business to be religious. O my dear friends, we little think what a Christ is worth upon a death bed. I would not for a world, nay for millions of worlds, be now without a Christ and a pardon. I would not for a world be to live any longer: the very thoughts of a possiblity of recovery, makes me tremble.

When one came to visit him, and told him, that he hoped it might please God to raise him again and and that he had seen many a weaker man restored to health, and that lived many a good year after: And do you think to please me (said he) by such discourse as this? No friend, you are much mistaken in me, if you think that the thoughts of life, and health, and the world, are pleasing to me. The world hath quite lost its excellency in my judgment. O how poor and contemptible a thing is it in all its glory, compared with the glory of that invisible world which I now live in the sight of! And as for life, Christ is my life health and strength; and I know, I shall have another kind of life, when I leave this I tell you it would incomparably more please me, if you should say to me, [You are no man of this world; you cannot possibly hold out long; before to morrow you will be in eternity.] I tell you I do so long to be with Christ, that I could be contented to be cut in pieces, and to be put to the most exquisite torments, so I might but die, and be with Christ. O, how sweet is Jesus! Come, Lord Jesus come quickly. Death, do thy worst! Death hath lost his terribleness. Death, it is nothing. I say, death is nothing (through grace) to me. I can as easily die as shut my eyes, or turn my head and sleep: I long to be with Christ; I long to die; that was still his note.

His mother and brethren standing by him he said; ‘Dear mother, I beseech you, as earnestly as ever I desired anything of you in my life, that you would cheerfully give me up to Christ; I beseech you, do not hinder me now I am going to rest and glory. I am afraid of your prayers, lest they pull: one way and mine another.’

And then turning to his brethren he spake thus to them, ‘I charge you all, do not pray for my life any more: you do me wrong, if you do! O that glory, the unspeakable glory that I behold My heart is full, my heart is full Christ smiles, and I cannot choose but smile: can you find in your heart, to stop me who am now going to the compleate and eternal enjoyment of Christ? Would you keep me from my crown? The arms of my blessed Saviour are open to embrace me; the angels stand ready to carry my soul in his bosom. O, did you but see what I see; you would all cry out with me, how long, dear Lord, come Lord Jesus come quickly! O why are his chariot-wheels so long a coming!’

And all this while he lay like a triumphing conqueror, smiling and rejoicing in spirit.

There was never a day towards his end but (as weak as he was) he did some special piece of service in, for his great master. Yea, almost every hour did produce fresh wonders

A reverend, judicious and holy minister came often to visit him, and discoursed with him of the excellency of Christ, and the glory of the invisible world. Sir, said he, I feel something of it, my heart is as full as it can hold in this lower state; I can hold no more here. O that I could but let you know what I feel!

This holy minister praying with him his soul was ravished with the abundant incomes of light, life, and love; so that he could scarce bear it, nor the thought of staying any longer in the world, but longed to be in such a condition, wherein he should yet have more grace and more comfort, and be better able to bear that weight of glory; some manifestations whereof did even almost sink his weak body, and had he not been sustained by a great power, his very joys would have overwhelmed him; and whilst he was in these extasies of joy and love, he was wont to cry out.

‘Who am I Lord, who am I, that thou shouldst be mindful of! Why me Lord; why me, and pass by thousands and look upon such a wretch as me. O, what shall I say, unto thee, O thou preserver of men? O, why me Lord, why me? O blessed, and for ever blessed, be free grace! How is it, Lord, that thou shouldst manifest thyself unto me, and not unto others, even so father, because it seemeth good in thy eyes, Thou wilt have mercy because thou wilt have mercy. And if thou wilt look upon such a poor worm who can hinder! Who would not love thee! O blessed father! O how sweet and gracious hast thou been unto me? O, that he should have me in his thoughts of love, before the foundations of the world.’

And thus he went on, admiring and adoring of God, in a more high and heavenly manner than I can clothe with words. Suppose what you can on this side heaven; and I am persuaded you might have seen it in him. He was wonderfully taken with the goodness of God to him in sending that aged experienced minister to help him in his last great work upon earth. ‘Who am I, said he, that God should to me a messenger one among a thousand (meaning that minister who had been praying with him tears of joy.)’

Though he was towards his end, most commonly in a triumphant joyful frame; yet, sometimes, even then he had some small intermissions, in which he would cry out, Hold out faith and patience; yet a little while, and your work is done. And when he found not his heart wound up to the highest pitch of unthankfulness, admiration and love; he would with great sorrow bemoan himself, and cry out in this language.

‘And what's the matter now, O my soul, what wilt thou, canst thou thus unworthily slight this admirable and astonishing condescension of God to thee? Seems it a small matter, that the great Jehovah should deal thus familiarly with his worm; and wilt thou pass this over, as a common mercy? What meanest thou, O my soul, that thou dost not constantly adore and praise this rare, strong, and unspeakable love! Is it true, O my soul, doth God deal familiarly with man, and are an humble, zealous, and constant love, praise, and service too good for God? Why art thou, O my soul, swallowed up every moment with this free unparalell'd everlasting love.’

And then he breaks out again into another triumphing extasy of praise and joy; and expressed a little of that which was unexpressible in some such words as these.

‘Stand astonished ye heavens, and wonder O ye angels at this infinite grace! Was ever any under heaven more beholding to free grace than I? Doth God use to do thus, with his creatures? Admire him for ever and ever, O ye redeemed ones! O those joys, the taste of which I have! Those everlasting joys, which are at his right hand for ever more! Eternity, Eternity it self, is too short to praise this God in. O bless the Lord with me come let us shout for joy and boast in the God of our salvation. O, help me to praise the Lord; for, his mercy endureth for ever!’

One of his brethren (that had formerly been wrought upon by his holy exhortations and example) praying with him, and seeing of him, (as he apprehended) near his dissolution, desired, that the Lord would be pleased to continue those astonishing and soul supporting comforts to the last moment of his breath, and that he might go from one heaven to another, from grace and joy imperfect, to perfect grace and glory; and when his work was done here, give him, if it were his will, the most easy and triumphant passage to rest; and that he might have an abundant entrance administred into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.

At the end of the duty he burst out into a wonderful passion of joy. (Sure that was joy unspeakable and full of glory!) O what an amen did he speak, amen, amen, amen, hallelujah.

It would have made any Christians heart to leap, to have seen and heard, what some saw and heard, at that time; and I question not, but that it will somewhat effect them to hear and read it; though it be scarce possible to speak the half of what was admirable in him: for, it being so much beyond president, it did even astonish and amaze those of us that were about him, that our relation must fall hugely short of what was real.

I verily believe that it exceeds the highest rhetorick, to set out to the life, what this heavenly creature did then deliver. I say again, I want words to speak, and so did he; for, he saw things unutterable: But yet, so much he spake as justly drew the admiration of all that saw him; and I heard an old experienced Christian and minister say it again and again, That he never saw, nor read, nor heard the like: neither could we expect to see the glories of heaven more demonstrated to sense, in this world. He talked as if he had been in the third heavens, and broke out into such words as these.

‘O, He is come! He is come! O how sweet! How glorious is the blessed Jesus! How shall I do to speak the thousandth part of his praises! O for words, to set out a little of that excellency! But it is unexpressible! O how excellent, glorious and lovely is the precious Jesus! He is sweet, He is altogether lovely! And now I am sick of love, he hath ravished my soul with his beauty! I shall die sick of love.’

‘O my friends stand by and wonder, come look upon a dying man, and wonder; I cannot myself but stand and wonder; Was there ever a greater kindness, was there ever sensibler manifestations of rich grace! O, why me, Lord, why me! Sure this is a-kin to heaven, and if I were never to enjoy any more than this; it were well worth all the torments that men and devils could invent, to come thorow even hell to such transcendent joys as these. If this be dying, dying is sweet: let no true Christian ever be afraid of dying. O death is sweet to me. This bed is soft. Christ's arms and kisses, his smiles and visits, sure they would turn hell into heaven. O that you did but see and feel what I do! Come and behold a dying man more chearful than you ever saw any healthful man in the midst of his sweetest enjoyments? O sirs, worldly pleasures are pitiful poor sorry things, compared with one glimpse of this glory, which shines in so strongly into my soul! O why should any of you be so sad, when I am so glad? This is the hour that I have waited for!’

About eight and forty hours before his death his eyes were dim and his sight much failed; his jaws shook and trembled, and his feet were cold, and all the symptoms of death were upon him, and his extreme parts were already almost dead and senseless, and yet, even then, his joys were (if possible) greater still: He had so many fits of joy unspeakable, that he seemed to be in one continued act of seraphick love, and praise. He spake like one that was just entering into the gates of the new Jerusalem: the greatest part of him was now in heaven; not a word dropped from his mouth but it breathed Christ and heaven O what encouragements did he give to them who did stand by, to follow hard after God, and to follow Christ in a humble, believing, zealous course of life, and adding one degree of grace to another, and using all diligence to make their calling and election sure; and that then, they also should have a glorious passage into a blessed eternity.

But most of his work was praise, a hundred times admiring of the bottomless love of God to him. O why me, Lord, why me! And then he would give instructions to them that came to see him. He was scarce ever silent, because the love of Christ and souls did constrain him. There was so much work done for Christ in his last ours, that I am ready to think, he did as much in an hour as some do in a year.

Every particular person had a faithful affectionate warning. And that good minister, that was so much with him, used this as an argument to perswade him to be willing to live a little longer, and to be patient to tarry God's leisure; sure God hath some thing for thee to do that is yet undone; some word of exhortation to some poor soul, that you have forgot.

The truth of it is, he was so filled with the love of Christ, that he could scarce bear absence from him a moment. He knew that he should be capable of bearing of greater glory above, than he could here. It was the judgment of some that were with him that his heart was not only habitually but actually set on God all the day long; and nothing of human frailty, that could be thought a sin, did appear for sometime: except it were his passionate desire to die, and difficulty to bring himself to be willing to stay below heaven.

He was wont every evening to take his leave of his friends, hoping not to see them, till the morning of the resurrection; and he desired that they would be sure, to make sure of a comfortable meeting at our fathers house, in that other world.

I cannot relate the twentieth part of that which deserved to be written in letters of gold. And one that was one of the weakest, said, that he did verily believe, that If we had been exact in our taking his sentences, and observing his daily experiences, he could not imagine, a book could be published of greater use to the world, next the bible itself.

One rare passage I can't omit, which was this, that when ministers or Christians came to him, he would beg of them to spend all the time that they had with him in praise. ‘O help me to praise God, I have now nothing else to do from this time to eternity, but to praise and love God. I have what my soul desires upon earth,’ I cannot tell what to pray for but what I have graciously given in. The wants that are capable of supplying in this world, are supplied. I want but one thing, and that is, a speedy lift to heaven. I expect no more here, I can't desire more, I can't hear more. O praise, praise, praise that infinite boundless love that hath, to a wonder, looked upon my soul, and done more for me than thousands of his dear children. O bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me bless his holy name. ‘O help me, O my friends, to praise and admire him that hath done such astonishing wonders for my soul; he hath pardoned all my sins, he hath filled me with his goodness; he hath given me grace and glory, and no good thing hath he withheld from me.’

‘Come help me with praises, all's too little: come, help me, O ye glorious and mighty angels, who are so well skilled in this heavenly work of praise. Praise him, all ye creatures upon the earth, let every thing that hath being, help me to praise him. Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah: Praise is now my work, and I shall be engaged in this sweet employment for ever. Bring the bible, turn to Davids Psalms, and let us sing a Psalm of praise; Come let us lift up our voice in the praise of the most high, I will sing with you as long as my breath doth last; and when I have done, I shall do it better.’

And then turning to some of his friends that were weeping, he desired them rather to rejoice than weep upon his account. It may justly seem a wonder, how he could speak so much as he did, when he was so weak; but the joy of the Lord did strengthen him.

In his sickness, the scriptures that he took much delight in, were the fourteenth, fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth of John. The fifty fourth of Isaiah was very refreshing also to him; he would repeat that word [with everlasting mercies will I gather] with abundance of joy

He recommended the study of the promises to believers and desired that they would be sure to make good their claim to them, and then they might come to the wells of consolation, and drink thereof, their fill.

According to his desire most of the time that was spent with him, was spent in praise; and he would still be calling out, 'More praise still. O, help me ‘to praise him: I have now nothing else to do; I have done with prayer, and all other ordinances; I have almost done conversing with mortals. I shall presently be beholding Christ himself, that died for me, and loved me, and washed me in his blood.’

‘I shall before a few hours are over, be in eternity singing the song of Moses, and the song of the Lamb. I shall presently stand upon Mount Zion, with an inumerable company of angels, and the spirit of the just made perfect, and Jesus the mediator of the new covenant, I shall hear the voice of much people, and be one amongst them, which shall say Hallelujah, salvation, glory, honour, and power unto the Lord our God; and again, we shall say Hallelujah. And yet a very little while and I shall sing unto the Lamb a song of praise, saying, worthy art thou to receive praise who wert slain, and redeemed us to God by thy blood, out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation, and hast made us unto our God, kings and priests, and we shall reign with thee for ever and ever’

‘Methinks I stand as it were, with one foot in heaven, and the other upon earth; methinks, I hear the melody of heaven, and by faith, I see the angels waiting to carry my soul to the bosom of Jesus, and I shall be for ever with the Lord in glory.’ And who can choose but rejoice in all this.

In several times, he spake in this language, and repeated many of these words often, over, and over again, with far greater affection, than can be well worded. And I solemnly profess, that what is here written, is no hyperbole, and that the twentieth part of what was observable in him is not recorded, and though we cannot word it exactly as he did, yet you have the substance, and many things in his own words with little or no variation.

The day before his death he looked some what earnestly upon his brother James, who stood by him very sad; of whom he judged that he was putting up some ejaculations to God upon his account, ‘I thank thee dear brother for thy love, said he, thou art now praying for me, and I know thou lovest me dearly: but Christ loveth me ten thousand times more than thou dost; come and kiss me, dear brother before I die; and so with his cold dying lips, he kissed him, and said, I shall go before, and I hope thou shalt follow after to glory.’

Though he was almost always praising God, and exhorting them that were about him to mind their everlasting concerns, and secure an interest in Christ; and though he slept but very little for some nights; yet he was not in the lest impaired in intellectuals, but his actions were all decent, and becoming a man, and his discourse to a spiritual understanding, highly rational, solid, divine. And so he continued to the last minute of his breath.

A •ew hours before his death he called all his relations, and brethren together, that he might give them one solemn warning more; and bless them, and pray for them, as his breath and strength would give him leave. Which he did with abundance of authority, affection and spirituality, which take briefly, as it follows.

First, he thanked his dear mother, for her tender love to him, and desired that she might be in travel to see Christformed in the souls of the rest of her children, and see of the travel of her souls, and meet them with joy in that great day.

Then, He charged all his brethren and sisters in general, as they would answer it before God, that they should carry it dutiful to their dear mother. As for his eldest brother William, (at whose house he lay sick) his prayer was, that he might be swallowed up of Christ, and love to souls; and be more and more examplary in his life, and successful in his ministry, and finish his course with joy.

His next brothers name was Andrew, a citizen of London, who was with him and saw him in this triumphing state; but (his necessary business calling him away) he could not then be by; yet, he was not forgot, but he was thus blessed ‘The God of heaven remember my poor brother at London The Lord make him truly rich in giving him the pearl of great price, and make him a fellow citizen with the saints and of the house-hold of God; the Lord deliver him, from the sins of that city, may the world be kept out of his heart and Christ dwell there. O that he may be as his name is astrong man, and that I may meet him with joy.’

Then he called his next brother, whose name was James (whom he hoped God bad made him a spiritual father to) whom he thus adressed himself, brother James, ‘I hope the Lord hath given thee a goodly heritage the lines are fallen to thee in pleasant placea; the Lord is thy portion. I hope the Lord hath shewed thee the worth of a Christ.’ Hold on dear brother; Christ, heaven and glory, are worth striving for; the Lord give thee more abundance of his grace.

Then, his next brother Abraham was called; to whom he spake to this purpose, ‘The blessing of the God of Abraham rest upon thee, the Lord make thee a Father of many spiritual children.’

His fifth brother, was Joseph, whom he blessed in this manner, ‘Let him bless thee, O Joseph, that blessed him that was separated from his brethren. O that his everlast arms may take hold on thee! It is enough, if yet thou mayest live in his sight. My heart hath been working towards thee, poor Joseph; and I am not without hopes, that the arm of the almighty will embrace thee. The God of thy father bless thee with the blessings of heaven above’

The next, was his sister Mary, to whom he spoke thus, ‘Poor sister Mary, thy body is weak and thy days will be filled with bitterness; thy name is Marah, the Lord sweeten all with his grace and peace, and give thee health in thy soul. Be patient, make sure of Christ, and all is well.’

Then, his other sister, whose name was Sarah, was called; whom he thus blessed, sister Sarah, ‘Thy body is strong and healthful; O that thy soul may be so too! The Lord make thee first a wise virgin, and then a mother in Israel; a pattern of modesty, humility, and holiness.’

The another brother, Jacob was called; whom he blessed after this manner, ‘The Lord make thee indeed, in whom there is no guile! O that thou mayest learn to wrestle with God, and laike a prince, mayest prevail, and not go without the blessing!’

Then he prayed for his youngest brother Benjamin, who was then but an infant; ‘Poor little Benjamin, O that the father of the fatherless, would take care of thee poor child, that thou, who never sawest thy father upon earth mayest see him with joy in heaven; the Lord be thy father, and portion; mayest thou prove the son of thy mothers right hand, and the joy of her age!’

‘O that none of us all, may be found amongst the unconverted in the day of judgment! O that every one of us may appear (with our honoured father, and dear mother) before Christ with joy that they may say, Lord here are we, and the children which thou hast graciouslygiven us. O that we may live to God here, and live with him hereafter.’

And now, my dear mother, brethren, and sisters, farewell; I leave you for a while, and I commend you to God, and to the word of his grace, which is able to build you up, and to give you an inheritance among all them which are sanctified.

And now dear Lord, my work is done, I have finished my course, I have fought the good fight; and henceforth there remaineth for me a crown of righteousness! Now come dear Lord Jesus come quickly.

Then that godly minister came to give him his last visit, and to do the office of an inferiour angel, to help to convey this blessed soul to glory who was now even upon mount Pisgah, and had a full sight of that goodly land at a little distance. When this minister spake to him, his heart was in a mighty flame of love and joy, which drew tears of joy from that precious minister, being almost amazed to hear a man juft a dying, talk just as if he had been with Jesus, and came from the immediate presence of God; O the smiles that were then in his face, and the unspeakable joy that was in his heart; one might have read grace, and glory, in such a mans countenance. O the praise, the triumphant praises, that he put up! And every one must speak praise about him or else they make some jar in his harmony.

And indeed most did, as well as they could help him in praise. So that I never heard, nor knew more praises given to God in one room than in this chamber.

A little before he died, in the prayer, or rather praises, he was so wrapt up with admiration and joy, that he could scarce forbear shouting for joy. In the conclusion of the duty, with abundance of faith, and fervency, he said aloud amen, amen!

And now his desires shall soon be satisfied. He seeth death coming apace to do his office, his jaws are loosened more and more, and quiver greatly; his hands and feet are as cold as clay, and a cold sweet is upon him: but, O how glad was he when he felt his Spirit just a going! Never was death more welcome to any mortal, I think. Tho' the pangs of death were strong; yet that far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, made him endure those bitter pains, with much patience and courage. In the extremity of his pains he desired his eldest brother to lay him a little lower, and to take away one pillow from him, that he might die with the more ease; his brother replied that he durst not for a world, do any thing that might hasten his death for a moment. Then he was well sa••••i•d, and did sweetly resign himself un wholly to God's dispo'al; and after a few minutes, with a sudden motion gathering up all his strength, he gave himselt a little turn on one side; and in the twinkling of an eye departed to the Lord, sleeping in Jesus.

And now blessed soul, thy longings are satisfied, and thou seest and feelest a thousand times more than thou didst upon earth, and yet thou canst bear it with delight, thou art now welcomed to thy fathers house by Christ, the beloved of thy soul; now thou hast heard him say, come, thou blessed of my father, and, well done good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joys of thy Lord, and wear that crown which was prepared for thee, before the foundation of the world

O that all the relations which thou hast left behind thee, may live thy life, and die thy death, and five with Christ, and thee, for ever and ever amen, amen.

He died June 1657, aged 23-24. and was buried in Kelshal-Church, in Hartfordshire.

The CONTENTS.

- Chap. I. AN account of him from his childhood to the seventeenth year of his age. p. 9.

- Chap. 2. Of his conversion, with visible proofs thereof. p. 12.

- Chap. 3. His carriage when fellow of the college, at twenty years of age. p. 20.

- Chap. 4 His particular addresses to his brethren, for their souls good, and the success thereof. p. 24.

- Chap. 5. His great love to, and frequency in the duty of prayer, with remarkable success p. 26.

- Chap. 6. His care of mother and other relations after his fathers's death. P. 30.

- Chap. 7. His return to King's College after his father's death. His holy projects for Christ and souls. p. 36.

- Chap. 8. His departure from the college to live in Dr. Cox's family. p. 37.

- Chap. 9. His retire into the country; and his first sickness. p. 38.

- Chap. 10. His exhortation to some of his friends. p. 42.

- Chap. 11. His temptations from Satan. p. 42.

- Chap. 12. Ministers not to carry on low designs. p. 53.

- Chap. 13. His love and compassion to souls. p. 58.

- Chap. 14. His trouble at the barrenness of Christians. p. 61.

- Chap. 15. Two letters to cement differences, and cause love among Christians. p. 63.

- Chap. 16. An account of the latter part of his life p. 76.

- Chap. 17. His last sickness and death. p. 81.

FINIS.

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Title statement

Invisibles, realities: demonstrated in the holy life and triumphant death of Mr. John Janeway, ... By James Janeway, ...

Janeway, James, 1636?-1674.

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http://ota.ox.ac.uk/id/4370

ID [isbn10]

1106013697

ID [isbn13]

9781106013699

ID [TCP]

K051932.000

ID [BIBNO]

cw3320894059

ID [ECRP]

0640801800

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— Invisibles, realities: demonstrated in the holy life and triumphant death of Mr. John Janeway, ... By James Janeway, ..., Janeway, James, 1636?-1674.. The eighth edition.. 96p. ; 8⁰. Glasgow :: printed by John Bryce, and sold at his shop,. 1772.. [Reproduction of original from the British Library.] [English Short Title Catalog, ESTCT59377.] [Electronic data. Farmington Hills, Mich. : Thomson Gale, 2003. Page image (PNG). Digitized image of the microfilm version produced in Woodbridge, CT by Research Publications, 1982-2002 (later known as Primary Source Microfilm, an imprint of the Gale Group).]

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