■I
m V
v f'
J av\*.wa\
Invisibles j Realities,
DEMONSTRATED IN THE
OLT LIFE
AND
TRIUMPHANT DEATH
OF
MR. JOHN JANEJVAY,
|..T^»
FELLOW OF KINGS COLLEGE IN CAMBRIDGE.
EY JAMES JANEWAY,
MINISTER OF THE GOSPEL,
• : * *
•*.* 1 * • * # ,
I * - ,
PITTSFIFIM .
PRINTED BY PHINEHAS ALLEN",
1814,
THE NEW YORK'
PUBLIC LIBRARY
1
94310 A
4
ASTOft, LKNOX AND
Til- DEN FOUNDATIONS.
ft 193o L
INTRODUCTION.
Xi
^Christian Reader,
THE love of Christ in his holy ones, and
the great usefulness of such history, command
me to take it. as a pleasing office, to commend
this real description of a saint to ;hy serious pe-
rusal and imitation. The good acceptance and
success of the late published life and death of
Mr. Jose fih Altiney the more encourageth me to
serve thee in this. As to the credit of the nar-
rative, let it be enough to tell thee, that his wor-
thy brother Mr. James Janeivay\ (intimately ac-
quainted with his most secret life) is the writer
of it (I have no hand in it myself.) And if thou
live in or near London, where he is now well
known, I will not be beholden to thee to believe
it ; especially, if thou also know the other most
creditable attestors. I know that many such
histories shew more what the writer could say,
than what the person was or did. But here both
he and his relations, and those whom he lived
with, were all so near us, and are many of them
yet so intimately known to me and others, that
there is no place for doubting left us.
I confess such instances are very sad to my
thoughts, while I am desiring the welfare of
mankind, on earth. To hear of the death of an
infant, who might have proved we know not
what 5 or of an useless person, or of an aged
[ ' iv ]
christian, who hath profitably run out the course
of nature, is nothing so sad to me, as to hear of
the removal of such excellent young men, when
they are prepared for their work, and just be-
ginning it ! But God is infinitely wise, and just,
and more merciful too than we can be. He
knoweth what he doth and why ; and is account-
able to none about the measure of his benefits,
nor the reasons of his various disposal. But the
great judgments which since his death have be-
fallen these V-ingdoms, do partly tell us that it is
no wonder, if. such men were taken from the evil
to come, of whom the world has so notoriously
declared itself unworthy : It is fitter for such
lights to shine in heaven, than to be put under a
bushel here on earth.
And for himself, he hath run long enough
who hath touched the prize : He hath sailed
long enough who is come safe t© the harbour :
And he hath lived long enough who is readiest
to die. Though I wonder at the lengthening of
my own life, which has been threatened by God
and man these thirty-three years or more ; yet,
alas how much less have I lived than this man
did, who am yet far short of his heavenly prepa-
rations ? I am ashamed to read that any thing of
mine was a help to his attainments, and to find
that at almost sixty years of age I am muck be-
low what he was raised to at twenty-three. Oh
that God would give my frozen age such warm
reflections from these his remains, that (ac-
cording to my need) I may receive more from
him that is dead, than ever he did from me alive !
If his own reverend father received bo much from
[ v ] f
iiim, why may not I also have some quldtsrifng
even by the dead, through the frnits of the spirit
left behind him, and the same spirit's quickening
influx upon me ? And may I but so die., hew
harmless, how welcome will death be ?
We think it great pity, that he lived to preach
but two sermons in the world ! That some poor
ignorant dull congregation had. not been instruct-
ed and awakened by his doctrine ; and his spirit-
ual fervour had not by dispersed writings en-
flamed the souls of thousands wHh the same
heavenly love and zeal. But who knoweth yet
but that this one narrative of his holy exempla-
ry life and death, may do as much as more nUr
merous or voluminous writings ? The many vol-
umes of holy lives, of ancient doctors, martyrs,
and later divines, philosophers and others in
Germany, England, and other lands, have done
much good, and are still very useful, and a pleas-
ant and profitable recreation (O how much bet-
ter than play-books and romances!) Butex-pe*
rience tells us, that God still poureth forth as
large measures of his spirit as heretofore he did.
If holy Augustine's life, after so much pollution,
& holy Ificrom'sWfe, qwifatctur so nonfuiabe vir-
genem, were so laudable and exemplary, O how
much praise do I owe God, for his grace upon
his servants, who am yet acquainted with so great
a number of holy, laborious, faithful ministers,
who I have great reason to believe, not only to
have all their lives been free from all gross hein-
ous sins ; but also to have laid out (heir zeal,
their time, their labors, so sincerely and se!f-dc-
*iyingjy for God, and the good of souls, as thai
a
C vi ]
I cannot but hope, that if those who are against
their preaching of the gospel, were but as well
acquainted with them as I am, they would be
their friends, and forward to promote the work.
I know one temptation the reader is like to
meet with, to hinder his profiting by his exam-
ple : Even to think that Mr. Alleine and Mr.
Janeway by overdoing did but cut short their own
lives ; and that their excessive labors in medita-
tion, prayer, and other duties, did deprive the
church of the benefit of much more, which they
might have avecl to do : And therefore .that such
examples are not to be imitated, but stand as
warnings to us, not to overdo and destroy our
bodies as they did. To which I answer ; 1 . I
am one myself, that wish both of them had done
somewhat less in that part of duty which hurt
the body, and overmatched their strength. And
I am not persuading you, that every man must
needs preash as oft as Mr. Alleine, or study and
meditate as long as he and Mr. Janeway did :
Mea have their various capacities, and opportu-
nities, and works. 2. But yet I dare not charge
them with sin ; because I know not their par-
ticular motives. 3. And perhaps their lives had
been as short if they had done less, as are the
lives of many hundred students, who favor them-
selves more than any wise man would wish. —
And it was God's mercy that they who had but
a short life to live, should do more than many
that live to the period of nature's course. And
Methuselah's life and their's is equalled now.
Whom have you known that by longer living,
hath £ot more hcly readiness to die ? 4. But I
[ vii ]
beseech you distinguish well, between that part
of their work, which was really like to overthrow
their natures, and the rest which had no such
tendency * And do not make the avoiding- the
former a pretence against your imitating of the
latter. It is not studying, meditating, praying,
preaching, according to the measure of nature's
strength, that much shorteneth life, I think
that learned man wrote not foolishly, who main-
tained that studies tend to long life. For my
own part I was feeble before I was a hard stu-
dent : And studies have been a constant pleasure
to me. And let any man judge whether con-
stant pleasure tends to shorten any man's life ?
Indeed that which destroys the health of stu-
dents is, 1. The sedentariness of their lives.—
2. And want of temperance and clue care of
their diet. 3. And want of sufficient cheerful-
ness. 4. And taking colds. Could students but
more imitate the laboring man, and take just
hours and opportunities for bodily labour (not
playful walks and exercises, that never warm and
purge the blood) and did they eat and drink
wisely, and live joyfully, and avoid colds, they
might bestow the rest of their time in the hardest
studies, with little hurt ; (except here and there
a melancholly or diseased man.) I doubt not
but such narratives as this, will tempt many a
slothful sensual scholar to indulge his sensuality
as the wiser way ; but at a dying hour he will
find the difference. O what a comfort then is
the review of a holy, heavenly, well-spent life !
I have often thought what the reason is that
among the papists, if the live? of their saints be
[ Yin j
described in the highest strain, or their boots
have even unreasonable pretensions of devotion,
even to the laying by of our understanding, or
to a kind of Deification, like Barbansons, Bene-
dicts, de Renedietis, and divers others, it doth
not offend men, hut the vulgar themselves do
glory in the sanctity of others. Whereas if with
us a man rise higher in holiness, and if in devout
contemplation, yea or action, than others, he is
presently the great eye-sore and obloquy of the
world. I mean of the envious and ungodly part,
which is too great. But the reason I perceive is,
that among the papists, to be a religious man is
to be a perfectist, who doth more than is comman-
ded him, or is necessary to salvation, and so the
people being taught that they may be saved with-
out being such themselves, their spleen is not stir-
red up against them, as the troublevs of their con-
science's peace ; but they are interested in their
honor, as being the honor of their way Sc church t
But with us men are taught that they must be
religious themselves in sincerity, if they ever
will be saved, and that without holiness none
shall see God ; and that they are not sincere if
they desire not to be perfect. And so they that
will not be godly themselves, do think that the
lives of the godly do condemn them.
I write not this to cast any disgrace on the true
history of any holy men's lives : Nor shall it ever
be my employment to reproach or hide God's
graces in any, nor to make men believe that they
are worse than they are. Whoever revile me for
it, I will magnify and love that of God which
jppearah in anv of his servants, of any ^ec\ or
[ be ]
party whatsoever. When I read such writings
as old Gerson, Guil Parisensis, and divers others,
and such as Jos. Acosta and some others, Jesuits,
and such lives as Nerius' and Mr. de Reuti's, &c
I cannot but think that they had the spirit of God,
and the mere do I hate all those mischievous en-
gines, additions and singularities, which divide
so many christians in the world, who have the
same spirit, and will not suffer us to hold the uni-
ty of the spirit in the bond of peace. O this un-
happy pretended wisdom, and orthodoxness in
the holding of our several opinions, is the knowl-
edge that puffeth up, and hath bred the perni-
cious tympanity of the church, when it is charity
that edifieth it : And the more men glory in their
dogmatical knowledge, to the contempt and hurt
of such as. differ from them, the less they know
as they ought to know. And if any man have
knowledge enough to kindle in his soul the love
of God, the same is known and loved of God,
and then he will prove that wise man indeed, at
death and to eternity. 1 Cor. viii. 1, 2, 3.
Reader, learn by this history to place thy re-
ligion in love and praise, and a heavenly life
Learn to keep such communion with God, and
to find such employment with thy heart by med-
itation, as thy strength, and opportunity, and oth-
er duties will allow thee : (For I urge thee to no
more.) Learn hence to think after the good of
souls, and to fill up thy hours with fruitful* duly !
And O that we could here learn the hardest les-
son, to get above the love of life, and to overcome
the fV'ars of death, and to long to see the glory
si Christ, and triumphantly to pass by joy to joy.
I * 1
blessed world of holy spirits ! whose nature,,
work, and happiness is love : Not love of carnal
self, and interest, and parties, which here maketli
those seek our destruction most, who have the
-highest esteem of our knowledge and sincerity (as
thinking our dissent will most effectually cross
their partial interest.) But the love of God in
himself and in his saints checked by no sin, hind-
red by no distance, darkness, deadness or disaf-
fection ; diverted by no carnal, worldly baits ;
.tempted by no persecutions or affections ; damp-
ed by no fears of death, nor of any decays or
cessation through eternitv. To teach me better
how to live and die, in faith, hope, and love, is
that for which I read this narrative ; and that
thou mayest learn the same is the end of my
commending it to thee ! The Lord teach it ef-
fectually to thee and me. Amen.
Richard Baxter.
August 28, 1672.
a mammpmrnm ana— uujjuumn—
The testimony of Mr. Samuel Borfet, sometimes
Fellow of King's College in Cambridge, and a
•very intimate acquaintance of J\/r. Janeway.
JBe loved Friends,
MY own mean esteem of the single weigh
of that testimony expected from me concernini
my dear brother on the account oi my intimac
with him in King's College (the known menu
rable passages of whose exemplary life and deat
are now happily compiled and published foryoi
special perusal) moves me to call in a twofold
, [ tl "]■
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.
I. That remembering so much thereof your-
selves, and what' opportunity 1 had of knowing
the certainty of all ; you would assure those who
may enquire of you, that the impartial compil-
er hath kept within the bounds of truth and so-
brietv, in prosecution of his honest aims, to ad-
vance the glory of God's rich mercy to this chos-
en vessel, and by reviving what remains, he could
collect of this burning as well as shining light
(alas how soon extinct) to awaken arid quicken
the formal professors, if he may not' induce the
profane scoffers of this age, to a more serious-
study and improvement of those invincible reali-
ties, the clear evidence and powerful influence
whereof, our good friend did so abundantly ex-
perience. The truth is, the transcriber (though
best accomplished, antl most inwardly acquainted
with what might conduce thereto) doth and could
not but fall short of declaring the transcendant
excellencies' of this sublime soul and precious
saint, which (till towards 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 modes-
ty. These disposed him rather to receive than
communicate, exefept where he had no expecta-
tion of the former, and either familiar intercourse
Engaged, or the apprehended exigency of those
:?iv heart was drawn out to in christian lore- and 1
Xll ]
compassion, constrained to the latter. Yet ma-
ny of those precious streams that did flow from
him we must lament the loss of, through default
of careful receivers or faithful retainers. He *|as
of clear intellectuals, and a large heart both for
craving and comprehending what was worthy his
pursuit ; which being happily improved by his
eau cation, and timely seasoned with a spiritual
savour of gospel misteries (for obtaining which
he had then w*Lh others, choice advantages) was
a great help to his proficiency in acquaintance
with the vital exercises and soul satisfying enjoy-
ments of the divine life, above not only his equals,
but seniors and instructors. He was much dis-
satisfied with 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 prclibations, assured him was attainable*
He was to this end a cheerful embracer and dili-
gent improver of spiritual opportunities, exact in
his christian watch, much wrestling (and very
prevalent) with God in prayer, and with him-
self 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 account-
ed 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
earnest commending them to God, designing with
[ 4s ]
himself, contriving with his spiritual confidence
•what might conduce thereto.
He had a true sympathy with those that were
bound with him heavenward. Their pressures
and conflicts were his burdens : His prayers and
counsels, their ready assistants : Their refresh-
ments, his revivings : And their spiritual profi-
ciency his joy.
He was a secret and compassionate mourner *
as in general for the world's degeneracy, preten-
- ded christians untbankfulness i'o? the gospel, the
hazard run by innumerable precious souls ; so es-
pecially for the dreadful apostacies of some -, the
then threatening decay and growing formality of
Others, sometime seemingly forward ; which
brought him higher to God, and more inflamed
his holy zeal. But this chiefly was carried out
to advance the power of religion in the family
and persons he was peculiarly related to ; app
bending there to lie his best opportunities as
well as strongest obligations. And his success
was very encouraging.
This is part of what I knew of Mm at Cam-
bridge, who refer you for farther reviving your
remembrance to the narrative. But both his
spiritual receipts and expences were much in-
1 creased 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
ignorant of his weak condition) I was not so
happy as to share in the privilege of those who
had the convenier.cy of receiving his last and
sweetest breath. Though I soon after had the
accoun (..while things were fresh in their memo-
B
[ xiv ]
rics, and warm on their hearts) from the eye awl
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 dili-
gent promotion of what some of you learned from
him, and others professed with him; That by im-
itating his good example, and improving his ex-
periences 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
misteries of regeneration, a life of faith in Christ,
the fruitful improvement of union, and commun-
ion with him to a prospicucus conformity to him,
crucifixion to the world by his cross, and a con-
versation with him in heaven while on earth
O&erein proposed, herein exemplified) be no fig-
ments but great realities ; no slight matters, but
of greatest consequence : Not such singula* ities,
but that others, according to their measures tak-
ing the like course, may be experimentally ac-
quainted with the surpassing sweetness of an in-
terest therein. And the rather 1 am bold to in-
treat this of you, because I was privy to his soui"'^
concern, for the conccrnmen's of your souls.
How oassionatelv he desired to see Christ formed
in you, and rejoiced at anv evidence thereof. —
How earnestly he would pray lor you all, and es-
pecially for those he had occasion to deal with,
or cause to be jealous of. How affected he was
with vour dangers and snares. And what ade-
sire, lift had you might put-strip himself, wl b
[ xv ]
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 fol-
lowers of them, who by faith and patience in-
herit the promises.
I have one farther request, that y-ou would pur-
sue by your most earnest supplications the design
of publishing this narrative, that God would make
it prosperous to the pious ends therein pro-
posed, 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
ihose who were more peculiarly endeared to our
special friend by natural or spiritual bonds ; (and
that if any of these be fallen from their first love,
they may be excited to repent, 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 sometime were sanc-
tified with the word and prayer, by those that
singly, and jointly (as chamber-fellows and col-
leagues) earnestly implored the divine benedic-
tion on those two royal foundations he was mem-
ber 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 Borfet.
C ivi ]
The testimony of Mr. Marmaduke T^nnant ^some-
times minister ofTharfeld in Hertfordshire, an
intimate acquaintance of Mr. John Janeway'a 9
and 07ie 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 mine own .knowl-
edge (hat this Mr. John Janeivay was an excel-
lent person, in respect of his natural parts, acquir-
ed gifts, and divine graces, Wherewith his heav-
enly Father adorned bim (considering his age)
even far above the ordinal y rate of the best sort
of scholars and christians. All which he exceed-
i gly improved for the good of others (especially
in his near relations) both in health and sickness,
even :o the last bom o:' his afe. And when the
immediate fore-i miners of death was upon him,
so acted faith : nd hope, so lively, judiciously,
and composedly (without the least shew ot hu-
man frailty) as :f jvith bodily eyes he saw the ho-
ly cr.; I standing before him, ready to receive
a rry his precious soul into his Father's glo-
ry. Verily, he was i^ost lovely in his life, and
; more lovely at his-death, the like I never bc-
! fore no. since. And I doubt not
e *.- - ous consideration of this narrative of
his if leath, wUl (through God's blessing)
hep; • < us in f ation of this saint indeed, in
• ■■»: i hrisjtian which reacts the same :
"^ that it may do, is the hearty prayer of
thy friend in the Loid Jesus.
Marmaduke TenNant".
Minister of the Gosfiel.
[ xvii
Christian Reader,
WHEN I seriously consider how much athe-
ism and impiety abounds, and see how sensual
delights are pursued, and religion in its power
rejected, as a dull, sad and unpleasant thing ;
when I see zeal decried as unnecessary, and lew
acting in the things of God, as if they were in-
deed matters of the highest consequence, reality
and substance, 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 re-
ality of invisibles. The prosecution of which de-
sign I could not more effectually manage, than
by presenting this narrative to the world. As
for the truth of it, if the solemn testimony of sev-
eral ministers (who were eye and ear witnesses
©["the most substantial things here presented) may
be credited ; here thou hast three of them. As
for myself I think I had as great an advantage to
acquaint myself with the secret practices of this
precious saint, as any one could well have ; be-
sides 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 halt is not told you :
For the treachery of my memory hath not a lit-
tle injured thee and him. Had this work been
done exactly, I am persuaded it might have been
of singular use to the world. In. some places I
could not justly word it in his phrase ; but I as-
sure thee thou hast the matter and substance.
b
[ xviii ]
«
The weakness of the relr.ter is no small disadvan-
tage to t subject ; but I might little excuse
this, by telling thee that I think that none living
will iiaVe the same opportunity in all things to
look. into this Work as I had. I might also tell
tha ■ i?\: rend, learned and holy men, whose
an O! v and request I could not deny, put me
iipi And I was not altogether without some
h< 1 drawing some to the love and liking of
' iat had not only been strangers to the
aver of it, but it may be had entertain-
. indices against it. And of quicken-
...■■■. t , .t had lost their former vigor ; and
couragin'g some that were too ready to. go on
■ ■ ,v and desponding. If I may succeed in
, I si all adore the goodness of God, and
praise hirri with the strength of ray soul. That
I >e subservient to the Lord in promoting
interest of religion : I beg thy fervent
and constant prayers ; arid that every one that
read' h .may imitate and experience all, and. ?.o
I ;: ii. ed with grace and peace, is the prayer of
yours in his dearest hovrt,
JAMES JANEWAY.
Invisibles^ MealitieSj
DEMONSTRATED IN THE HOLY LIFE AND TRI-
UMPHANT DEATH OF MR. JOHN JANEWAY,
SOMETIMES "ELLOW OF KING'S COLLEGE,
< 5
CAMBRIDGE.
CHAPTER I.
AN ACCOUNT OF II IM FROM HIS CHILDHOOD, $*&
THK SEVENTEENTH TEAR OF HIS AGE,
R. JOHN JANEWAY was bbria
Anno 1x533, Oct. 27, of religions
parents, in Lylly in the county of Hart-:
ford. lie soon gave his parents the
hope of much comfort, and the symp-
toms 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 bv or for this child before he died :
he shewed that neither* of them were
much mistaken in their conjecture con-
cerning him. He soon out-ran his su-
periors for age, in learning. And it
Q
was thought by no incompetent judges,
that for pregnancy of wit, solidity of
judgment, the vastness of his intellectu-
als, the greatness of his memory, that
he had no superiors, few equals, consid-
ering his asre and education.
He was initiated into the latin tongue
by his own father ; afterwards he
was brought iip for some time at Paul's
school in London, where he made a con-
siderable proficiency in Latin and Greek
under the care of Mr. Langly. When
he was about eleven years old he took a
reat fancy to arithmetick and the He-
brew tongue.
About this time his parents removing
io a little village called A sped en, had
the opportunity- of having this their son
instructed by a learned neighbour, who
was pleased to count it a pleasant di-
version to read mathematics to him,
being then about twelve v ears old ; and
I e made such progress in those profound
idles, that he read Oughthred with
understanding before he was thirteen
rears old. A person of quality, hearing
of the admirable proficiency of this boy,
lit 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 College, one of the
foundation of that school, being exam-
ined by Provost and Posers in the He-
brew tongue, which was thought was
beyond precedent. Where he gave no
unsuitable returns to the high expecta-
tions 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 that university, he attain-
ed 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, he was commanded to return to
Eton, where he soon gave proof .of his
great improvement of his time while he
was absent, by making an Almanack,
and calculating of the eclipses for many
years beforehand ; so that by rhis time
he had many eyes upon hira as the glory
of the school. That which put an ac-
cent on 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 se\ en f een years eld he was
chose to King's College in Cambridge, at
which lime the electioners did even con-
tend for the patronage of this scholar. —
lie 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
5
other ornaments of nature, his deport-
ment was so sweet and lovely, his de-
meanor so courteous and oblieins:, even
when he seemed unconverted, that he
must be vile with a witness that did not
love him. Yea many of them which
had little kindness for moralitw 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 cf
God, which 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 of liis spirit ; tliQ crea-
ture had not vet led him to the Creator :
but he was still too ready to take up
with mere speculation ; but God who
6
from all eternity had chosen him to be
one of those who should shine as the sun
in the firmament forever in glory, did
when he was about eighteen vears 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 great*
est knowledge in the world without
Christ, was but an empty dry business.
He now thought Mr. Bolton had some
reason en his side, when he said, Give
me the most magnificent glorious world-
ling, that ever trod upon earthly mould,.
richly crowned with all the ornaments
and excellencies of nature, art, policy,
preferment, or what heart can wish be-
sides ; yet without the life of grace to
animate and ennoble them, he were to
the eve of heavenly wisdom but as a rot-
ten carcase, stuck over with flowers,
magnified dung, guiided rottenness, gol-
den damnation. He began now to be
of Anaxacroras's mind, that his work up-
on earth was to study heaven and to
get thither, and that except a man might
be admitted to greater preferment t ha ti
this world can bestow upon her fayoi *
it were scarce worth the while to he born,
CHAPTER II.
Of his conversion, with visible proofs thereof,
S r TM~IE great work of conversion, it w T as
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 heaven-
ly and powerful discourse of a young
man in the College, whose heart God
had inflamed with love to his soul, he
quickly made an attempt upon this hope-
ful young man, and the spirit of God did
set home his counsels with such power,
that they proved effectual for his awak-
ening ; being accompanied with the
preaching of these two famous worthies,
Dr. Hill and Dr. Arrowsmith, together
with the reading of 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 no« r so
c
3
much taken up with things above the
moon and the stars, that he had little leis-
ure 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 employ
himself in formerly. He now began to
pity them who were curious in their en-
quiries 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 his loss
for Christ, yea doubtless he esteemed
all things but as dune* and dross in com-
parison of Christ and him crucified. —
Not that he looked upon human learn-
ing as useless : But when fixed below
Christ, and not improved for Christ ; he
looked upon wisdom as folly, and learn-
ing: 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 a-
bout 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
9
more diligent and spiritual in his study.
And now Christ was at the end and bot-
tom 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 let-
ters, in which he did discourse so sub-
stantially and experimentally of the great
things of God, that it would not at all
have unbecome some gray head to have
owned what he did write.
He was not a little like young; Elihu,
in 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 spir-
it 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 h )ttks, I will speak that
I may be refreshed, Sic. O then how
sweet was the savor of his graces ! He
could not but speak the things which he
10
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, beg-
ging and wooing of them to think of their
precious and immortal souls, and to lay
in speedy provisions for a death bed and
eternity. Oh with what compassion
did he plead the cause of Christ with
their souls ! What pathetical expressions
did he use, what vehement expostula-
tions, 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 ancient minister that
he stood related to, who at that time
walked very heavily.
His Letter.
Rev. Sir — There are two things, the
want of which I have had experience of in
your family, tho' not in every degree ;
yet in that intense. :ss of degree
wherein thev ousrht to be ; which are
the real power of godliness and religion
And then that which is the fruit of th<
li
former, that cheerfulness, delight, spir-
itual joy and serenity of mind which is
to be had in religion and no where e\sz ;
and that not in religion in its weakest
degrees, but in a real vigor, power and
life, and in a more close constant walk-
ing 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 jay 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 reli-
gion : Objects of pity they are, and O
how few are there that spend one compas-
sionate thought upon them !
Others there are who some way or
other, it may be from tradition from
good parenrs, it may be from knowing
the fashion of those in their rank ; it
may be from the frequent inculcation of
12
good instructions from christian friends
or godly ministers ; or some struggling
eruptions of conscience, have gotten the
outward husk or shell of religion with-
out 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
to 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 to
heaven. Oh that there were never a fam-
ily 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 !
A third sort of people there are which
have the reality of religion, but yet in much
weakness, coldness, faintness, dimness,
and intermission : Like Nilus's brood
above half mad 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 ?
Tow there are higher attainments to be
eached after ; there is a having our con-
versation in heaven while we are upon
rarth, neither doth this consist in some
vcak discourses about God, heaven and
he things of religion, it consists not in
,he mere praying twice a day, and in
eeping the Sabbath in an usual manner
i its order, it consists not in a few
; oughts of religious objects coming
into the mind in a common way, and as
r.silv lost as eot. But true religion
liseth the soul to longings, hungring >
rid thirstings not without some enjoy -
lents. Religion in power is to act for
rod with strength, vigor, earnestness,
i itenseness, delight, cheerfulness, seren-
y and calmness of mind. 'The fruits
f the spirit are joy in the Holy Ghost
nd peace: Fear, disquiet, and terrors
re usually the introduction to a better
tate, but they are not of the essentials
f religion ; yea the contrary frame of
spirits is to be striven for.
To speak yet more plainly and to tell
ou, Honored Sir, what my fears and
salousies are, with reverence to yours
ndterjdecafiecdoniaaUyouriamrly, 1 feel
14
you are subject to loo man}' desponding
melancholiy thoughts. The causes
whereof eive me leave with submission
to guess at. The fxrst I think may be
your reflecting on your entering 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 res-
pect to your own living in the world
than of living to God in the world, be
it thus, be it not as bad, or be it worse ;
the remedv 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 lonff, and not available to the
having of it cured. Wounds indeed
must be first opened that their filth may
be discovered in reference to a purging
and healing ; bat 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 leavetfe joy and comfort,
yet a constant humility of spirit is no way
inconsistent with the peace of God.
15
A second cause of vour heaviness
nay be a sense of the state of the people
■vhich 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 oiten 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 ex-
amining of yourself what your con-
science doth conclude to be your duty
you do it, and see you do it ; — you
are then to rest upon God for his effect-
ual 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 Apos-
tles found at any time was, who notwith-
standing rejoiced in tribulation.
Another cause of heaviness mav be
what divisions are between yourself and
some of your relations. O that a
spirit of meekness and wisdom might
remove all cause # of sorrow for that. But
were the power of godliness more in
16
hearts and families, all the causes of such
trouble would soon be removed, there
would be less that would deserve repre-
hension, 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 thankful-
ness. Some cares and thoughts you may
have concerning your family when you
are gone. But let faith and former ex-
perience teach you to drive away all such
thoughts. Your constitution and soli-
tariness mav also be some cause of mel-
ancholly ; but there is a duty which if it
were exercised would dispel all, which
is heavenly. Meditation and contempla-
tion of the things which true christian re-
ligion tends to. If we did but walk close-
ly with God one hour in a day in this du-
ty, O what influence would it have into the
whole day besides, and duly performed
into the whole life. This duty with the
usefulness, manner and directions, &fr.
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
forever to bless God. As for your dear
17
•vife, I fear the cares and troubles of the
vorld take off her mind too much from
walking with God so closely as she ought
to do, and from that earnest endeavour af-
ter 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
hitreat her and yourself, yea I charge
it upon you with humility and tenderness
that God have at least half an hour allow-
ed him in a day for this exercise : O this
nost precious soul-raising, soul-ravish-
ing, soul-perfecting duty ! Take this from
your dear friend as spoke with reverence
\nd real love and faithfulness. My fear
\nd 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 wanderings and coldness where-
18
in family duty, may be repented and a-
mended. This is the way to get serious-
ness, reality, sincerity, cheerfulness in re-
ligion : And thus the joy of the Lord
may be your strength. Let those which
know their duty do it ; if any think it not
a necessary duty, let them fear least 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 till
on, and the foretastes of his comforts in
this life, you have attained to true spirit-
ual joy & peace in the Lord. The God
of peace give you this direction and per-
fection in eternal life, in the enjoying of in-
finite holiness, purity and excellency thro'
Christ. Thus praying I rest."
Zri another Utter to a reverend friericl that had
the care of many children, he thus advueth.
*■ Sir — Your charge is great upon-' a
temporal account, but greater upon aspir-
o / ,
ituai ; 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 should have a great care of your chil-
dren, and be often dropping in some
wholesome admonitions ; and this I hum-
bly, with submission to your judgment
in it, commend to you. Not to admon-
ish them always together, but likewise
privately one by one, not letting the rest
know of it. Wherein you may please
to press upon them their natural corrup-
tion, their necessity of regeneration, the
excellency of Christ, and how unspeak-
able lovely it is to see young: ones setting;
out for heaven. This way, I think,
may do most good, having had experi-
ence of it myself in some small meas-
ure ; God grant that all may work for the
edifying of those which 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 swallow-
ed up with the affairs of another world.
D
53
CHAPTER III.
X-tis carriage when Fellow of the College at
twenty years of age.
WHEN he was about twenty years
old, he was made fellow of the Col-
lege, which did not a little advance those
noble projects which he had in his head,
for promoting 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
which were looking towards heaven.—
And as for his own relations, never was
there a more compassionate and tender-
hearted brother. How many pathetica!
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 him-
self to them in private J And how ready
to improve providences and visits that
lie might set them home upon them ! — -
How excellently would he set forth the
beauty of Christ : He earnestly would-
39
persuade them to inquire into the state
of their souls. ^How would, he endeavor
to bring them off 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 sa-
vored of his spirit : How were the chil-
dren 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 nat-
ural father, as you may read afterwards ;
and some of his brethren have cause to
bless God forever that they ever saw his
face, and heard his words, and observed
his conversation, which had so much of
loveliness and beauty in it, that it could
not but commend religion to any that
did take notice of it. He could speak
in St. PauPs words, Brethren, my heart's
desire and prayer to God for you all is,
that you may be saved.
Read what he said in the followincflineso
40
" Distance of place cannot at all les-
sen that natural bond whereby we are
conjoined in blood, neither ought to les-
sen that of love. Nav, where true love
is, it cannot, for love towards you I can
only say this, that I feel it better than J
can express it ; as it is wont to be witl
all affections ; but love felt and not ex
pressed is little worth. I therefore de-
sire 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 breath and hun-
ger after this, so that our closed 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 heath ;
you have had line upon line, and precept
upon precept ; he hath planted you by the
rivers of water. It is the Lord alone in-
deed who maketh fruitful, but yet we are
not to stand still and do nothing. There
■44
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 ne-
cessary duty;, nay a high and precious
privilege. If thou canst say nothing,
come and lay thyself in a 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. —
Oh do but try : Oh taste and see how
good the Lord is. Get into the corner
and throw yourself down before the
Lord, and beg of God to make you sen-
sible of your lost, undone state by na-
ture, and of the excellency and necessity
of Christ. Say, Lord give me a brok-
en heart, soften and melt me. Any
thing in the world, so I may be but en-
abled to value Christ, and be persuaded
to accept of him, as he is tendered in the
gospel. Oh that I may be delivered
from the wrath to come : Oh a blessing
for me, even for me, and resolve not to
be content till the Lord have in some
measure answered you, Oh my bow-
42
els yearn towards you , my heart works.
Oh 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 an heart to apply
them to yourself ; the Lord bless all the
means that you enjoy for his blessing to
ail in all. Give me leave to deal plainlv,
and to come yet a little close 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 favor is not to be re-
covered without it.
" This new birth has its foundation laid
in a sense of sin, and a godly sorrow for
it, and heart set a<raiiist it ; without this
there can be no salvation. Look well
about you and see into yourself, and
thou wilt see that thou art at hell's 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 vou see a natural man's
condition. How darest thou then lie
down in security ? — Oh look about for
your soul's sake. What shall I say,
what shall I do to awaken poor soul !— I
say again, without repentance there is no
remission ; and repentance itself may
lose its labor if it be not in the right
manner. Then~Gears, and groans, and
prayers will not do without Christ.
" Most men when thev 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 right-
eousness as well as our sins, we are nev-
er liked to be saved. We must see an
absolute need of a Christ, and give our-
selves up to him, and count all but dung
and dross in comparison of Christ's
righteousness. Look, therefore, for mer-
cy only in Christ, for his sake rely up-
on God's mercv. The terms of the gos-
pel 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 then dost ; even this is
the gift of God to desire, hunger after
Christ ; let desires put you upon en-
deavor, the work itself is sweet ; yet
repentance and mourning itself hath
more sweetness in it than all the world's
comforts. Upon repentance and be-
lieving comes justification, after this
sanctification, by the spirit dwelling in
us. By this we come to the children
of God, to be made partakers of the di-
vine 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 one's
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 of-
fence, and yield by no means to any
known sin ; be much in Draver, in secret
A. <r
prayer, and in reading the scriptures. —
Therein are laid up the glorious myste-
ries which are hid from many eyes. My
greatest desire is, that God would work
his own work in you. I desire to see
you not as formerly, but that the Lord
would make me an instrument of your
5puls good, for which I greatly long.
CHAPTER IV.
His particular addresses to his brethren for thetf
soul's good, and the success thereof.
E wrote many Letters of this na-
ture, and desired oftentimes to be
visiting his brethren, that he might par-
ticularly address himself to them, and see
what became of his letters, prayers and
tears, and he was verv watchful over
them, ready to reprove and convince them
of sin, and ready to encourage any be-
ginnings of a good work in them. To
instance in a particular or two.
One time perceiving one of his broth-
ers asleep at prayers in the family, he
presently took occasion to shew him
what a high contempt it was of God,
what a little sense such a man had of his
own danger, what dreadful hypocrisy,
what a miracle of patience that he was
not awakened in flames. After he had
been awhile affectionately pleading with
him, it pleased the Lord to strike in with
some power, and to melt arid soften his
brother's heart when he was about elev-
en years old, so that it was to be hoped
tnat then the Lord began savingly to
work upon the h-rxri of that child." For
from that time forward a considerable
alteration might be discerned in him.—
When he perceived it he was not a lit-
tle pleased. This put him upon carry-
ing on the work, that conviction might
not wear off till it had ended in conver-
sion. 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 thorough
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 Oh take not up with some begin-
nings, faint desires, lazy seekings : Oh
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 off the sense of it, murder
their convictions and return again to fol-
ly. Oh ! take heed, if any drawback,
the Lord will take no pleasure in them ;
but I hope better things of you.
He would also observe how his breth-
ren carried it after dutv, whether they
seemed to run presently to the world
with greediness, as if dutv were a task.
or whether there seemed to be an abid-
ing 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. Oh
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 ? Oh 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 - 7
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 3
tears, and secret groans, somewhat of
the beauty of religion was to be seen m
the family where he lived,
4. 8
CHAPTER V.
His great love to, and frequency in the duty of
jirayers, with remarkable success.
E was mighty in prayer, and his
spirit was oftentimes so transport-
ed in it that he forgot the weakness of his
own body and other 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 beyond 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
pi'ss, that he could scarce come, off his
knees without his Father's blessing. _ He
was used to converse with God with a
h6lv familiarity as a friend, and wool: I
upon all occasion run to him for advice,
and had many strange and immediate an-
swers of prayer* One of which I think
is not altogether impertinent to give the
world an account of.
His honored father Mr. William Jane-
way, minister of Kelshali in Hartfordshire
being sick, and being under somewhat
dark apprehensions as to the state of his
soul, he would often sav to his son John,
oh son, this passing upon eternity is a
great thing, this dying is a solemn busi-
ness, and enough to make any one's
heart ache, that hath not his pardon seal-
ed, and his evidences for heaven clear,
And truly son, I am under no small fears
as to my own estate for another world.—
Oh that God would clear his love !— Oh-
that I could sa$ cheerfully, I can die,
iind upon good grounds be able to look
death in the face and venture upon eter-
nity with well grounded peace and com-
fort.
His sweet and dutiful Son made a :
suitable reply at present ; but seeing ruV
dear lather continuing under despond
50
Ings 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, earnest-
ly begging of God that he would fill
him with joy unspeakable in believing,
and that he would speedily give him
some tok#n for good, that he might joy-
fully 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 went exceedingly (a
passion thaf 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 lie burst out in such
expressions as these. Oh Son I 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 h's
child. Now I car* look up to God as
my dear father, and Christ as my rei
deemer ; I can now sen- this is a ' . 3 . i I
•SI
siid this is my beloved* My heart i£
full, it is brim full, I can hold no more.
1 know now what that sentence means,
the peace of God which passeth under-
standing ; I know now what that white
stone is wherein a new name is written,
which none know but they which 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
far heart contain myself : Neither cap*
| express what glorious discoveries
God hath made of himself unto me.—
And had that joy been greater, I ques-
tion whether I could have borne 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. Oh
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 mercv ! Oh now I can die ! It is
nothing, I bless God I can die. I de-
sire to be dissolved and to be with
$6*
/Chiist. You may well think that his
soil's 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 speed-
ily. He counted himself a sharer With
his father in this mercy, and it was irpoji
a double account welcome, as it did so
wonderfully satisfy 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 thv father : Thou
hast like a prince prevailed with God :
Thou hast eot the blessing : Thv fer-
vent prayers have been effectual : Go
down and see else.
Upon this, this precious young man
•broke forth intp praises, and even into
another ecstacy of joy that God should
deal so familiarly v ith him ; and the
■m/
father and soa 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 w
this manner. Oh blessed and forever
blessed be Gqd for his infinite grace !
Oh who would net pray un-co 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 his former despon-
dings, and what he had been praying for
just before with all the earnestness he could
for his souh and how the Lord had imme-
diately answered him. His father hear-
ing this, and perceiving that his former
comforts came in a way of prayer, and bis
own child's prayer too was the more re-
freshed, and was the more confirmed that
it was from the spirit of God, and no de~
lesion . And i in mediately, his son stand-
ing by, he fell into another fit of triumph -
-ingjoy, his weak. body beingalmost ready
r to sink under that weight of glory that did
shine in so powerfully upon his soul.—
He could then say, Now let thy ser-
vant depart in peace, for mine eyes have
seen thy salvation. He could now
walk through the valley of the shadow
01 death and fear no .evil. Oh how
sweet a thing it is to have one's interest
in Christ clear, how comfortable to have
our calling and election made sure ! — -
How lovely is the sight of a smiling
e
5.-i
Jesus when one is dying ! Kow refresh-
ing it k whefi heart and flesh and all are
foiling, to have God for the strength o**
our heart and our portion forever ! O!
did the foolish unexperienced world 1«j
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,
con Id they but taste and see how sreed
tic Lord is, it would soon cause them
to disrelish their low and brutish pleas-
ures, and look upon alj worldlv jovs as
infinitely short of ouq glimpse of God's
love ! After this his reverend father had
a sweet calm upon his spirits, and went
into the strength of that provision, that ricl:
grace laid in till he came within the sates
of New Jerusalem ; having all hi f .
graces greatly improved, and shewed so
much humility^ love to, <md admiring of
God, contempt of the world, such pri-
zing of Christ, such patience as few
christians arrive to, especially his faith,
|by which with extraordinary confidence
ha tst his widow and eleven fatherless
chi ilren upon the care of that God who
had led hirn with this maui.a in his wil r
derriess state. The benefit of which
faith ail his children (none of which were
hi his life time provided for) have since
o admiration experienced. And it is
iree to be imagined how helpful thi§
, precious son John Jane way was to
his father by his heavenly discourse s
humble advice and prayers. After four
months convict with a painful "consump-
tion and hectic fever, his honored father
sweetly slept in Jesus,
CHAPTER VI.
jfxis care of his mother and other relations after
h is fa th er's (lea th .
'TER the death of his lather he
did what he could to supply
fiis absence, doing the part of husband,
son, brother : So that he was no small
comfort to his poor mother in her dis-
consolate state, and ail the rest of his
relations that had any sense of God up-
on their spirits. To one of which he
thus addressed himself upon the death
of a sw£et child :
n u Daily observation and every man's
experience gives sufficient testimony to
£w3 /
St, that afflictions of what lamd soever,
bv how much seldomer thev are, the
more grievous they ?>eem. We have of
a long time sailed in the rivers of bles-
sings which God hath plentifully poured
forth grnoriff 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
N with fears and griefs ; yea the natural
man if not counterpowered by the spirit
of God, will be ready to entertain mur-
muring and repining thoughts against
God himself. Whereas, if all our life
had been a pilgrimage full of sorrows
and afflictions (as we deserved) and ha.3.
but rarely been intermingled with com-
forts, we should have been mere fitted
to bear afflictions : Thus it is naturally :
But we outfit to counterwork against
the stream of nature by a new principle
Wrought in us, and whatsoever nature
doth err in, grace is to rectify. And
they upon whom grace js bestowed
oupht to set grace on work. For where
O i >
fore is grace bestowed unless that it
should act in us ; it hath pleased the
Lord to make a breach in your family
m
There where the knot is fast tied ; when
it is disunited, the change becomes
greatest, and the grief is more enlarged.
So that herein you who are most moved
are most to be excused and comforted,
the strength of a mother's affections I
believe none but mothers know, and
greatest affections when they are dis-
turbed breed the greatest grief. But
when afflictions come upon us what will
be our duty ? Shall we then give our-
selves up to be carried away 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 melancholly ? Shall we
quarrel with our Maker and call the wise
righteous judge to our l>ar ? 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 ? Arc we
not rather 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
pur souls nearer God. Is there note-
nough in God and the Koly scriptures
to bear up our spirits under any afflic-
tions, let them be ever 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 see^h no
light, let him trust in the name of the
Lord, and stay himself upon his God ?
Though all earthly comforts were lied
away, and though you coujd see no
light from any of these things below, yet
if you look upward to God in Christ,
there js comfort to be found, there is
light to be espied ; yea, a great and glo-
rious light, which if \ve can rightly dis^
.pern, it would put out the light of all
lower comforts, and cause them to be
vilely accounted of. But alas! alas 1
those heavenly comforts, though they
are in themselves so precious, and if re-
allv anil sensibly felt, able to raise a
man's soul frqjn earth, yea from hell, to
the foretastes 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
59
let me' speak freely : Christians them
selves, and those that we have cause to"
hope are men of another world, and tru-
ly borri again, yet for want of a spiritual'
quickness in this spiritual sight and sense,
these 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 to look
down with "a holy slighting and con-
tempt 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 nVe, 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 increas-
ed, He then that in afflictions won
find CGmfort, must strive to see sph
comforts to be the greatest, ev
Hz
edmfort* which is from God, in the face
of Jesus Christ ; this will be a cordial,
this will be as marrow and fatness to the
soul. They that have an interest hi
Christ, what need they be moved and
discomfited with anv 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 hour's
enjoyment of him, -even on this side of
glory in some of his own ordinances.—
O therefore strive to get your interest
in this comfort secured, and then all is
Well. lie that hath Christ hath all things-
If God be reconciled to you through him, •
then he will withhold no good thing fronv
vou.
We poor foolish creatures do scarce'
know what is good for ourselves, but it-
is no small encouragement to the peo-
ple of God that wisdom itself takes cai m
of them, and one that loves them better
than thev love themselves looks after
them : And he hath given his promise
for it, that all shall work together for
their £0<2d. And what better founr'
tien of- comfort carf there be in the
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 within me, hope in
God. Let not your soul sink under af-
flictions, for what reason have you to be
discomfited under them. Can you
gather from thence, that the Lord doth
not love vou ? No, surely, but rather
the contrary, for whom the Lord loveth
he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son
whom he receiveth i What son is he
whom the Father chasteneth not ? —
Wherefore lift up the hands which hang
down, and the feeble knees.
Let this serve as a remedy against ex-
cessive 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 hi in 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 spir-
it ; He that loves father or mother,
brother or sister, yea, or children more
than me, is not worthy of me. O labor to
have' vour affections therefore more rait i
ed up to hirn 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, bd
ruled by it, and directed to it. Be ouj
earthly afflictions ever so great, yet le
this love to God poise our souls so, tha
they may not be overweighed with grie
on the one side, or stupidness on the oth
er side. Again let our souls be 1 awe<
by that glorious' and omnipotency of
God, who is able to do any thing am 1
who will do whatsoever pleaseth hir.
both in b.eaven, and in earth ; at vvhos
word and for Vvhose glory all things th?>
are were made. And what are we poc
creatures that we should dare to entertai
anv hard thoughts of this God ! It i
dangerous contending with God ! L'.
us learn that great lesson of resignin
up ourselves and all we have td God ; —
let us put ourselves as instruments int
the hands of the Lord to do what 1.
pleaseth with us, and let us remembc
that it was our promise and covenan
tfith God to yield ourselves up to him
.anclto be wholly at his disposal. The
sour is then in a sweet frame when it
can cordially say, it is the Lord, let
hirn do what seemeth good in his eyes
Not my will, but thine be done. Again
let us know, that though we cannot al-
ways see into the reasonableness of the
ways of God, (for his ways are often in
the thick cloud, and our weak eyes can-
not look into those depths in which he
walketh) yet ail the ways of God are just,
holy and good. Let us therefore have
a care of so much as moving-, much
more of entertaining anv unworthy
thoughts asrainst Godo But let us sub-
rnit willingly to the yoke which he is
pleased to lay upon us, lest he break us,
with his terrible judgments. And now
it hath seemed good to God to hy this
stroke upon you, I pray labor rigmly
to improve it, and let this trial prepare
you for greater. And seeing the un-
certainty of all worldly things, endeavor
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 salve to every sore of
•fais, to comfort you with his spiritual com ;
64
forts, that he would favorably shine up-
on 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 instruc-
tions, 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 per-
sonal worth that was in his younger
brother, whom he would prefer before
himself, as one whom he judged God
had honored with far greater parts, gra-
ces, and experiences than himself. —
The younger also did as humbly and
heartily respect and honor him, as a se-
rious christian, and minister, and his el-
der brother, who had obliged him with
more than ordinary kindness.
When he was but young, yet he began
to be taken notice of bv ancient minis-
ters and christians ! Though his mod-
esty was so great, that his huge parts
were not a little obscured thereby ; and
his vast worth vyas so ballasted vv Itb hiimiL
itv, that he made so great noise in the
world, and most were ignorant of his sin-
gular worth. A wise man that was inti-
mately acquainted with him, would say of
him , that he .was like deep waters that were
more still, a man of hidden excellency.
There are fewthat knew how clos~ r e walk-
ed with God, and at what a high rate hejtv xl
and how great a trade he drove, for the rich-
es of that other world ; all which he la-
bored, as much as might be, to conceal
fseea
CHAPTER VII.
His return to College after his father's death.
His holy projects for Christ and souls.
HEN his father was dead, he re-
turned again to King's College,
and was a member of a secret cabal which
began to carry on noble 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 distort
was frequently to meet together, to pray
and to communicate studies and exneri-.
f :
46
ences, and to handle some question of
divinity, or in some schoolastic way to
exercise the gifts which God had given
them. Some of this company did de-
generate, 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. Af-
ter sometime, most of his dear compan-
ions were transplanted into gentlemen's
families or livings ; and this Mr. Jane-
way, 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.
CHAPTER VIII.
Ills departure from College to live in Dr. Cox* a
family.
FTER 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 an-
swer to this request, the Provost was
pleased to send Mr. Janeway, who did
neither shame him that preferred him,
nor disappoint the expectations of him
that entertained him ; hut by his dili-
gence, profound learning, and success
in his undertaking, did not a little oblige
the relations of the pupil. But his pains
were so great, and his body so weak,
that it could not long bear up under such
a work ; so that he was forced to ask leave
of the Doctor to try whether the change
of the air might not contribute some-
what to the mending of the temper of his
body, which now began sensibly to de-
cay.
Whilst he was in that familv, his car-
riage 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 fam-
ily 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 relating to that family,
whose tender love to him he did grateful-
}y resent upon his death- bed .
CHAPTER IX.
ffis retire into the country, and his first sickness,
HE now leaves the Doctor'shouse 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 ear-
nest prayers, and long and intense med-
itations, had so ruined this frail taberna-
cle, that it could not be fully repaired ;
yet, by God's blessing upon care and art,
it was under-propped for some time.
Whilst he was in this declining condi-
tion, in which he could have little hopes
of life, he was so far from being affright
ed, 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 dispen-
sation, as might separate him and them
for a while : And to wean their affec-
tions from him, lie solemnly professecj,
69
that as for himself he was ashamed to de-
sire and pray for life. O, saith he, is
there any thing here more desirable than
the enjoyment of Christ ? Can I expect
any thing below, comparable to that bles-
sed vision ! O that crown ! that rest
which remains for the people of God !
And (blessed be God) I can say, I know
it is mine. I know that when this tab-
ernacle of clay shall be dissolved, that 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
the good fight, henceforth there is laid up
for me a crown incorruptible, that fad-
eth 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 i^were purely with
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
,}vithrjiim ; 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 instrumen-
tal for God's glory in his generation.
After he was recovered In some meas-
ure, he fell again to his former practice
of engaging deeply in the secret and
great duties of religion which he con-
stantly practised (except when God dis-
charged him by sickness) secret prayer,
at least three times a day, sometimes
seven, yea more : Besides family and
college duties, which were before hint-
ed, 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 additions
;lo his comforts : His time for that duty
was commonly in the evening, when he
usually walked into the field, if the weath-
er would permit ; if not, he retired into
the church, or an empty solitary room,
Where (observing his constant practice,
that, it possible, I might be acquainted
with the reason of his retiredness) I once
hid myself, that I might take the more
71
exact notice of the intercourse that f
judged was kept up between him and
God. But, O what a spectacle did 1
see ! Surely a man walking with God,'
conversing intimately with his Maker,
and maintaining a holy familiarity withV
the great Jehovah. Methought I saw
one talking with God ; methought 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 [ Methinks I see
him still ; how sweetly did his face shine I
O, with what a lovely countenance did
he walk up and down, his lips going, his'
Body oft reaching up, as if he would 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 1 how welcome God made him
when He Brought him- into his banquet-
ing house. That which one might ettsi-"
ly perceive hfs heart to be most fixed
upon was, the infinite love of ' God in
Christ to the poor lost sons and daught;
72
ers of Adam. What else meant his high
expressions ? What else did his own
words to a dear friend signify, but an ex-
traordinary 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 un-
measureable 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.
CHAPTER X.
His Exhortation to some of his friend'},
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-de-
sire, till our very souls are drawn out
after him, till we are brought to acquaint-
ance, 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
75
sourt 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. O that I
were received into converse with him,
that I mi^ht hear his voice, and see his
countenance ! For his voice is sweet and
Kis countenance is comely ! O that I might
communicate myself to God, and that he
would give himself to me ! O that I might
Jove him ! That I were sick of love, that
I rnight die in love ! That! might lose my-
self in his love, as a small drop in the un-
fathomable depth' of his love I 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 is' a sea ! fling thyself into it/
apd thoif shalt be compassed with the
Height, and depth, and breadth, and ,
length of love, and be filled with all the**
G
fulness of God. Is not this enough ?—
o
What wouldst thou have more ?■ Fling
away all besides God ; God is portion
enough, and the only proper portion of
the soul; Hast thou not tasted, hast
thou not known, that his love is better
than wine ? Hast thou not smelt the sa-
vor of his precious ointments, for which
the virgins love him ? This is he who
is altogether lovely. And while I write,,
niv heart doth burn, mv soul is on fire..
I am sick of love.
Bear soulj 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,
choicest love ; all is too little for him :
Let faith and love kiss him ; you shall
be no more bold than welcome. Fix
thine eves again and again upon him,
and look upon his lovely, sweet and royal
face ; till thou art taken with this beau^
tiful person, who hath not his fellow
upon the earth, his equal among the an-
gels. Come near, still contemplate his
excellency, review each part, and thou
wilt find him to be made up of love;:
7-vind thy affections about him, bind thy
75
;Soul to him with the cords of love.~
Thus shalt thou find a new life to ani-
mate thy soul ; thou shalt then feel u
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 tkee. But 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 jew-
els, 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 ^ye.
I have prayed for a blessing for you,
and on those 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 Ja-ne.wax,
CHAPTER XL
His temptations from Satan.
j/nT^HUS you have a taste of his spirit,
JL and may perceive what it was that
he had his heart most set upon, and what
kept his graces in such vigor and activi-
ty, and how desirous he Mas that others
should be sharers with him in this mer-
cy : Yet, for all this, he had his gloomy
davs, and the sun was sometimes over-
cast, his sweets were some time embit-
tered with dreadful and horrid tempta-
tions. The devil shot his poisonous
arrows at him ; yet, through the captain
of his salvation, he came 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 ex-
alted above measure there was a messen-
ger of satan sent to buffet him,
It would make a christian's heart even
ache to hear and read what strange temp-
tations this gracious soul was exercised
with. But he was well armed for such
a conflict, having on the shield of faith,
whereby he quenched the fiery darts of
that wicked one : Yet, this fight cost him
I ■■" I
i i
the sweating of his very body for agon-
ies of spirit ; and tears and strong cries
to heaven for fresh help. As for him-
self, 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 enemv. who was at last fain to fly.
These temptations and conflicts with
Satan did not a little help him afterwards
in his dealings with one that was sorely af-
ilicted with temptations of a like nature,
And because I judge it of singular use
to tempted ones, and finding very many
of late to be exercised in this kind, I shall
insert a letter of his, suitable to all chris-
tians in the like case.
Jl letter of Mr. John Janeivat* s',
" Dear Friend — -Your letters are bitter
in the mouth but sweet in the belly ; they
Contain matter of joy, mider a dismal as-
V pect ; they are good news, brought by a
messenger in mourning ; I had rather hear
of that which is matter of substantial, real
joy, tho' mh:ed with many sighs, & inter-
rupted with many groans and sobs ; than
of thatkmghter, in the midst of which.
:4c hairt is sad? g
• You say you are troubled with bias-
pheraous thoughts ; so then, though they
are blasphemous, yet they are trouble ;
and thoughts they are too, and that nei-
ther 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 ; fear-
ing lest such disturbance should make
them look about them, and so they should
awake, and see their danger : But as for
those that have m 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 19
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
niind ? They are the soul's loathing the
morsels which satan would have it to
swallow down ; yea, they are the soul's
striving with satan, whilst he would rav-
ish the spouse of Jesus ; And Let the en
emv of all goodness know, that he shall
.ere long pay dearly for such attempts,
But you will say, if these horrible
thoughts be not your sin, yet the}' are
y.our trouble and misery, and you desire
to be freed from them ; and the most
loyal and loving spouse had rather be de-
ltvi red from those assaults. But you
will ask, how shall I get i've^ 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 all this seeming evih At
present you are in the dark and see no
light ; yet trust in the Lord, and stay
3 ourself upon your God. Can Christ
forget the purchase of his own blood, the
price of his soul, those whom he hath sq
intimately endeared to himself? Can $
mother forget her sucking child ? Yet
God cannot forget his. God hath lov-
ing and gracious intents in all this, and
his bowels yearn towards his. Yea, our
Saviour suffers with us, through his ar-
dent love by sympathy, as well as he hath
suffered for us. But, for your being be-
rid of these thoughts, you know who
hath all power in his hand, who doth em-
ploy this power in a way of love towards
his. This power is made yours through
the praver of faith : But for your own
work, do this.
First. Let not such thoughts have any
time of abode in your iviirid, but turn
them out with all the loathing and abhor*
-rence you can ; but not with so much
trouble and disturbance of mind as I ber
licvc you do. For by this the devil is
pleased, and he makes you your own
tormentor.
Secondly. Always then divert your
thoughts to some £ood thins*, and let
those very injections be constantly tne
occasion of your more spiritual medita-
tion. Think the quite contrary, or fall
- j ra} ing with earnestness : ancl the dev>
it will be wcarv if he finds his deskrtis
thus broken, and that those sparks of
hell (which he struck into the soul to
kindle and inflame corruption) $o put
warm tli into grace, and set faith arid
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 'p'r. from vou.
Thir CpiVsider that this is no new
thine: : I not in this ignorant of
satan's :, if any soul hath es-
caped ' hains of darkness, if he
will h ha , he shall have it with
as mi as the devil can lav on :
and, his had their wills, no
good man should have one peaceable
hour: But, blessed be God for his ever-
lasting and unchangeable love to his v
that the devil cannot pluck us out of those
\almighty arms, with which he doth em
brace his dear children.
Dear heart, my prayer for you is, that
God would give thee the peaceable fruit
of righteousness after all thy afflictions,
that thou ma vest come out of these trials'.
refined and purified, and more fit for thy
master's use ; having this the end of all,
to purge away thy dross, and take away
thv sin.
Thus hoping that at the length, God
would 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 Jane way."
HE was much afraid of decays in
grace, of apostacy ; yea, flatness of
spirit, either in himself c jthers : And
if he suspected any thing of this 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 labouied
to maintain a constant tenderness and
sensibility upon his heart ; and to take
notice of the least departure of his soul
from God, or God's absenting of himself
from the soul (which was an expression
that was much in his mouth.) He had
•a godly jealousy over his brothers : Om
8S
of which was awakened by his serious-
and particular application of himself tcr
Him, when he was about eleven years
old : But he knew, that conviction and
conversion are two things, and that ma-
ny are somewhat affected by a warm ex-
hortation, who quickly wear off those
impressions, 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 was
well be'ffiHi : He labored to build sure v
and to build up ; that he might be rooted
and grounded in the faith, stedfast and
immovable-^ always abounding in the
work of the Lord. Wherefore he fol-
lowed him, not only with private warn-
ings, and frequent pathetical counsels and
directions, but with letters, -one of which
spoke m this language.
cAnother of his U iters of firivate warning and
pathetical Counsel.
u YOU live in a place where strict
^ind close walking with God hath few or
no examples, and most are apt to be like
their company : and God's own children
are to apt to forget their first love :■ Our
hearts are too apt to be careless and to ; *
neglect our watch : We are ready to grow
formalin duty, or less spiritual ; and then
it, may be, le'ss frequent : And conscience^
is put off with some poor excuse ; and
thus religion withers, and one that seem-
ed once a zealot may come to be a lao-
dicean ; 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 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 v our a ee, I know where you
dwell, I am hot unacquainted with .your
temptations. Wherefore I cannot but be
afraid of yon, 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 of you ; and
i^ mind you of what yon know already.
Principles of civility will be but as
broken reeds to stay our 1 souls upon,
without those higher principles which '
a?e planted in the soul, by the working •
of the spirit of God. Oh, rcmcrhi
what meltings sometimes you have had ;
remember how solicitously you did en-
quire 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 slight work. True
conversion is a great thing, and another
kind of business than most of the world
take it to be. Be not satisfied with some
convictions, taking them for conversion,
nor with resting iiv a formal profession.
There is such a thing as being almost a-
christian ; nay, as drawing back into
perdition : And some that are not far
from die kingdom of Heaven, may nev-
er come there. Beware lest you lose
the reward : The promise is made to
him that holdeth fast, and holdeth out
to the end and overcomelh.
Lsbor to forget what is behind and
to press fbrwurd 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 ssfre that he hath none at all ; and is far
M
from being made partaker of the divine
nature. Labor to know what it is to
converse with God ; strive to do every
thing as in his presence ; design him m
all ; act as one stands within sight of
the °rave and eternitv. I sav aeain, do
what you do, as if you were sure God
stood by and looked upon you, and ex-
actly 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 God's ser-
vice is very uncomfortable, and at the
best will cost us dear : and to be con-
tented with sifch a frame, is a certain
symptom of a hypocrite. Oh 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 an inconceivable perplex::? iyculd
thev then be in !
Ob, live more upon invisibles, and
set the thoughts of their excellency put
life into your performances. You
must be contented to be lauehed at for
preciseness and singularity. A chris-
tian's walking is not with men but with
God ; and he hath great cause to sus-
pect his love to God, who doth not de-
light more in conversing with God and
being conformed to him, than in con-
versing with the world, and being con-
formed to it.
How can the love of God dwell in
that man, who liveth without God in the
world ? Without both continual walk-
ing 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, de-
light, joy and spiritual sorrow in them !
Think not, that our walking with God
cannot consist with worldly business :
Yes, but religion makes us spiritual iu
common actions, and there is not any
action in a man's life, in which a man
is not to labor to make it a religious act,
hy a looking to the rule in it, and eyeing
of 'God's glory ; and thus, he may be
said to walk with God. To this we
in List endeavor 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 re-
maining, and are under depravation and
darkness, and know not our true happi-
ness : — Such a soul is sick, and it hath
lost its taste, which doth not perceive
^m incomparable sweetness in walking
"vith God, without whom all thing else
under .heaven are gall and bitterness, and
to be little valued by every true chris-
tian.
But, we arc all apt even to the worst,
to say, that we preler God above all
twine's , but we must know that we have
very deceitful hearts : And those, who
Joeing enlightened, know for what high
ends the}' should act, and what a fearful
.condition even a hazard in oar 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 up-
jon that sure bottom, the Lord Jesus
Christ. Labor to attain to this, to love
God for himself, and to have your heart
naturalized and suited to spiritual things.
Oh for a heart to rejoice and work risrht-
J o
eousness ! Oh 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 we should see more and more
.cause to love him, and wonder that we
love him no more. Oh this, this is our
happiness, to haye a fuller sight of God,
£o be wrapped up, & fdled with the love of
Christ. Oh let mv soul forever be thus
.employed ! Lord, whom have I in heaven
but thee, and there is none in earth that
f can desire in comparison of thee."
You hear what kind of language he
spate ; and you may easily perceive
what it was that swallowed up his heart,
itnd where his delight, treasure and life
was. Oh, much do most of us who go
for Christians, fall short of these things !
And how vast a distance between hi
experience and ours ! And what reason
h.
m
have we to read these lines with blushing,
and to blot the paper with tears ? And to
Jay aside this book awhile, and to fall up*
on otir fixes beloi e the iLord, and be-
moan the cursed unsuitable:: ess of our
Jicarts unto God, and to 1 v it. at we do
so 'it v understand what', .o-,swa-- ins: with
£}od, d tiding by faith means ! Oh, at
what a rate do *on$e chnstiaissli^ei And
how low, flat -r'd dnii as mothers. His
love to Christ aai souls, made hini veiy
desirous to spend, and be spent, in the
work oi the mi nisi rv ; accordingly he did
comply with the first loud and clear call
to preach the everlasting gospel ; and
thon^i. lie was but about two and twenty
years old, yet he came to that work like
one that understood what kind of employ *
no no preaching was. lie was a work-
man that needed not be ashamed, that
was thoroughly furnished for every word
and work ; one that was able to answer
gainsaycrs ; one in whom the word of
'God dwelt richly ; one full of the spirit
and r over : 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
beseeeh sinners in Christ's stead to be
reconciled unto God ; one that was a
son of thunder, and son of consolation.
In a word, I may speak that of him
which Paul spake of Timothy, that, I
knew none likerininded, that did natur-
ally care for souls. And had he lived to
have preached often, Oh what use might
such a man have been of to his genera^
tion ! One, in whom learning and holi?
ness did as it were strive which should
excel. He never preached publicly but
twice, and then he came to it as if he
Jiad 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 Ian-
guage 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
9£
Kv'nh God, out of Job xxii. 21. A sub r
ject that few christians under Heaven
were better able to manage than himself,
frnti that scarce any con let handle so feel-
in eh- as he : For, he did for some con-
side .; ;e time maintain such an intimate
familiarity with God, that be seemed to
converse with him, as one friend doth
converse wkh mother. This text he
iv ie some entrance into, whilst he was
here : but the pt Meeting ox his acquaint-
ance v/h'h God, was a work litter lor
another world,
He was one that kept an exact watcli
over his thoughts, words and actions.
and made a review of all that passed
him, at Least once in a day, in a sckirm
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. Iletcoif:
notice what incomes and profit he re-
ceived in his spiritual traffick ; what
returns from that far country ; what an-
swers pf prayer, what deafness and Sat-
pess, and what observable providences
did present themselves, and the sub
stance of what he had been doing ; and
£3
:&ny wanderings of thoughts, inordinary
in any passion ; which, tho' the world
could not discern, he could. It cannot
be conceived by them w r ho do not
practice the same, to what a good ac-
count did this return t This made him
to retain a grateful remembrance of mer-
cy, and to live in a constant admiring
and adoring of divine goodness ; this
brought Mm to a very intimate acquaint-
ance with his own heart ; this kept his
spirit low, and fitted him for freer com-
munications from God ; this made him
more lively and active ; this helped him
to walk humbly with God ; this made
him speak more affectionately and ex,
perimentally 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
coukl not surprise him.
Could this book [of his experiences,
and register of his actions] have been
read, it might have contributed much to
the ccmpleating of this discourse, and
\ \
-ihe quickening of some, and the com
fortius: of others. But these things b
ing written in characters, the world Jiath
Jost this jewel.
He studied the scriptures much, and
they were sweeter to him than his food ;
and he had an .excellent faculty in open-
ing the mind of God in dark places
In the latter part of his lire he seemed
quite swallowed up with the thoughts of
Christ, heaven, and eternity ; and the
nearer he came to this, the more swift
his rnctio i was to it, and the more un-
mixed his designs for it ; and he would
much persuade others to an universal
free respect to the glory of God in all
things.; and making religion one's bu-
siness, and not to mind these great
ngs by the by.
eg52szr33rtyRi."w»*yiSC'»»«s««v
W
CHAPTER XII.
Ministers not to carry on low designs.
E was not a little concerned abGut
ministers ; that, above ail men,
they should take heed, lest they carried
.on poor low designs, instead of wholly
eieg of the i uteres: of God, and sou is.
$3
He judged, that to take up prcachfo_
as a trade, was altogether inconsistent
tvilh the high spirit of a true gospel
minister : He desired, that those which
seemed to be devoted to- the ministry.
would be such ? first, heartily to devote
their all to God ;• and then that thev
should endeavor to have a dear love to
immortal souls.
He was very ready tcr debase himself,
and humbly to acknowledge what he
found amiss in L'mseif, and labored to
amend himself and others, " This
(saith he) I must seriously confess, that
I must needs renroaeh mvself for de-
iieiency in a christian spiritual remem-
brance of \ -on, (speaking to a dear friend)*
and f or a decay in a quick tender touch,
as of other things, so of what relates to
voursclf in the spirituality of it. Not
that 1 think not of you or of God ; but
tha f my thoughts of you, and' spiritual
Things are not so frequent, savoury and
affectionate*, as they ought to be.
By this reiiectipfi you may easily per-
ceive that I see farther in duty than I d
in practice. The truth of it is I grudge' 1
that thoughts and afectiens shonldruti'
*96
6tU any whither freely, but to God. ~
And what I now desire for myself, I de-
sire 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 thev flow in a wrong
channel, all God's precious dispensa-
tions towards us are lost ; all that God
hath spent upon us, is lost, and spent in
vanity. I speak this,- out of a dear res-
pect to your soul, and God's honor,
Whom, I- am loth, should be a loser by
his kindnesses. I know vou have ma-
ny objects, upon which you may be too'
apt to let out your dear affections. I say
again, my jealousy is, lest (there being'
so many channels wherein thev mav run)
God lose his due. I desire, therefore ,*
in humility and tenderness, that this
may be a hint to you from the spirit at
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 t!
:ase with your own souk If Chri
have my warmest love, why is it thus
with me ? If God have my heart, why
am I so thoughtful about the world ? If
I indeed love him best, how cometh it
to pass that Ifind more strong, delight-
ful, constant actings of my affections to-
wards my relations, myself or any world-
ly thing, than I do after him ? Oh the
depth of the heart's deceitfulness !
Dear and honored friend, trust not a
surmisal, trust 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
worth than all the trouble that you can be
at, iri the acquiring of it : And* the trou-
ble there is 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 clear-
ing its evidences, but their sense or fear
of their not being clear, and of the de-
ceitfulness of their hearts. The reality
of that evil, which tender souls so dread,
doth lie in its full weight (tho' not felt) on
the drowsy, ungroundedly secure sinner.
I speak in love ; Give me leave to re-
member you of some touches that you
had formerly upon your spirit under the
means of grace ; remember how much
you were sometimes affected under
preaching. Did you never say, that
these sermons upon hardness of heart 3
softened yours ? Inquire I pray, wheth-
er those convictions which were then
upon your heart, are not worn off' by the
incumbrances of the world : If upon en-
quiry, you should find they are, it's high
time for you to look about you and re-
pent, 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, w here by I
was betrayed to too great an indifference
in the things of God : And finding by
sad experience, that I was more apt (a-
mongst 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 f
which I was through rich grace ac-
laifited with while I was more sennet
.tered from the world and earthlv delights
« o
{not but that I find my heart at the best,
under the highest advantages of closest
communion, too unwilling to endeavor
after, and maintain that gracious sense and
acknowledgement of God which I would
fain obtain unto :) I say observing my
own experiences, and knowing that your
heart was something a kin to mine, fear-
ing lest multiplicity of business should
expose you also to the same hazard : —
christian compassion could not but put
me upon arming of you against those
temptations, to which your occasions
make you subject.
The desire of mv soul for vcu is,
that von mav travel safelv through a
dangerous wilderness to a blessed Ca-
naan ; that you may quit yourself like a
Christian in the opposing and conquer-
ing all your enemies; and at last come
triumphing out of the field: And that
you may behave rourself 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 father's house, and sit down with
him in eternal tlorv, Oh that word glo«
79481 n a
.,ry :1s. so weighty, if we did believe it ?
that it would make the greatest diligence
we can use to secure it t seem light. Oh
that far more exceeding and eternal
weight of glory ! Oh for more faith !—
Lord increase our Faith ! And then
there would Ipe nothing wanting
to make, us put forth the utmost strength
of our soul, and to improve every mo-
ment of time, to catch hold of all advan-
tages, and to make use of all means pos-
sible for the attainment of such glorious
ends.
But, O these unbelieving hearts !-—
Let us join, our complaints and let us all
break forth into bitter lamentations, over
them. May not we with as good rea-
son 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 unbe-
lieving 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 helh
Give me leave to come yet a little
nearer to you : What an advantavr;..
would a full persuasion of the truth
and excellencies of Gospel discov-
eries bring to your soul, if you woulcj.
but seriously, and with all your
strength, drive on true spiritual designs.
Oh, how easily might ycu 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 cheerfully might you go on with
your business ! If you sought first the
kingdom of heaven and the righteous-
ness 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 yoij
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 diffi T
culty to discover that disorder that is in
our souls, when we are solicitous about
temporary objects and employments :—
But there is but few surer discoveries of
it, than insensibility and not complaining
pf it. For when the soul is indeed rais-
ed to spiritual objects, and to underhand
i
; dearly 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 soul's 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 con-
stancy . It would have God have the best,
and it would do nothing else but love, serve
and enjoy God. For my own part I can-
not but wonder that God will .give us leave
to love him. Oh blessed goodness, Oh
infinite condescension ! Those that belie v-
ingly seek him he is not ashamed to be call-
ed their God. I am sensible irr some
measure of your burdens, and/,indee4
that must needs be a burden that keeps 4 ^
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
c-f eternal happiness hereafter.
!0*J
CHAPTER XIII.
E was full of pity and compassion
__ to souls, and yet greatly grieved
and ashamed that he did no more to ex-
•press his sense of the worth of souls, and
that his bowels did no more sensibly yearn
over them, whom he had just cause to
fear were in a christless state, Though
there were few of his kindred and relation,
nay of his neighbors and acquaintance
but he did make a personal application
to, either bv letters or conference : Yet
for all this, who more ready to cry out or
want of love to souls, and unprofitable-
ness 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 rec-
reation 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 be-
'rvail my barrenness. O that I should bf
1*04
pf so little use where I come ! O that
my tongue and heart should be still so
unfruitful ! I am ready to hope some-
times, that, if it should please God in his
providence to bring us again together,
we may be more profitable one to a-
n other.
And this indeed makes me more de-
sirous of coming to you again, than any
ihing else, that I may do some good
among: you. O how few studv to ad*
yance the interest of Christ and the ben-
efit of another's soul 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 ere long, the Lord will give me
leave to see vou, and be refreshed by vou.
I desire to supply my absence by this
sure token of my remembrance of you ;
and also that I might have an opportu-
nity for that which we ought to eye most
in the enjoyment of one another's socie r
ty. But I have found, that partly be-
cause of the narrowness of my heart, r,ot
being; enlarged to brine; forth into act
what I have greatly desjred, partly be-
cause of the malice of the enemy of our
:105
souls, who endeavours all that possibly
he can, to lay stumbling blocks m our
way to real union and nearer acquaint-
ance with God and christian commun-
ion : 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 free-
dom, 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 desire of our souls to be
in conjunction and communion with the
highest good, who fills up all relation to
our souls ; who is our father., ourhusband v
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 out 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
pot in the meditation of the creatures »
where God is as a portion, and lived up-
on as our true happiness : He is not on-
ly the complement 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, de-
lighted in and chosen before all : 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 w r hich we
are not onlv allowed but called to in the
loving dispensations of the gospel, so that
now we are not to be strangers any long-
er, 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 ad-
% r ancement, the blessedness of this life,
the sweetness of these employments, the
satisfaction of these enjoyments, the com-
fort of this heavenlv life, the delights of
this communion with GocL 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, y0
with the greatest unworthiness, vilest in-
gratitude, 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 vilelv accounted of than the
mi
basest of our lusts ?
Let us therefore according t6 that
hi eh calling wherewith we are called, en-
ter into a more intimate acquaintance with
God, and as we find our souls act-
ing, naturally towards those things'
which are naturally dear to lis ;' so let
us strive to lighten our spiritual: affec-
tions.
We are very apt to look upon duties
as burdens rather than privileges, and
seasons of enjoying the greatest refresh-
ments ; but these apprehensions are very
low and earthhv O that we could at
te 2th set ourselves to live a spirits
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 heav-
en, union and communion with God,
these desires would bring some comfort.
As for me, you must give me allow-
ance to get my affections more emptied
into God ; though it be with a dimin-
ution of love to you ; and blessed will
that L.av be when all love will be full v
swallowed up into God» But spiritual
love doth not destrov natural affections,
cr relative obligations, but perfect and
rectify them : And so I mav, giving up:
myself to God be still yours.
CHAPTER XIV.
His trouble at the barrenness of Christians.
JE was not a little troubled at the
barrenness of christians in their dis-
course, and their not improving their so-
ciety for the quickening and warming of
their hearts ; the expenee of precious
time, unaccountably, the ill-manage-
ments of visits, and the impertmency.of <■
w
their talk/ he oft reflected upon with W
holv ifiaiernatioh. It vext him to the
soul, to see what prices 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 ano-
ther in the way to Zion, communicating
of experiences, and talking of their cbun-
trv, and of the clory of that kingdom
which the saints are heirs' of, could sat-
isfy themselves with empty common"
vain stuff, as if Christ, heaven 'and eter-
nity were not things of as great worth
as any thing else, that usually sounds in'
the tars and comes from the lips of pro-
fessors. That the folly of common dis-
course among christians might appear
more, and that he mieht discover' how
little such laifeua&e did Become those
that profess thenlseVes 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 dis-
courses that passed for some time to
gether among those pretended to mo
f-*»
than common' understanding hi 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, unobserved and unla-
ixiented unprofitable communication and
fruitless squandering away of that in-
estimable jewel, opportunity.. Oh, to
spend an hour or two together, and to
hear scarce a word for Christ, or that
speaks people's hearts in love with holi-
ness : Is not this writing a brave, ration-
al, divine discourse ? Fie, lie. Where's
our love tc God and souls all this while ?
Where's our sense ol the preciousness
of time, of the greatness of our account ?•
Should we talk thus, if we believed that
we should hear of this 'ix&ain at the day
of judgment ? And do we not know that
we must frive 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 bet-
ter purpose ? Would Enoch, David, or
Paul have talked thus ! Is this the sweet-
est communion of saints upon earth ?— ~
til
How shall we do to spend eternity m
■speaking the praises of God, if we can-
not find matter for an hour's discourse ?
Doth not this speak aloud our hearts
to be very empty of grace, and that we
have little sense of those spiritual and e-
■ternal concerns upon us :?
As the barrenness and empty converse
of christians was a sin that he greatly be-
wailed, so the want of love amongst chris-
tians, 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 and intreaties and counsels
would prevail and cement differences,
they should not long be open. Nay if
his letters would signify any thing to
make an amicable and christian corres-
pondence, it should not be wanting. — >
And because the wounds of division are
still bleeding, I shall insert two healing
letters of his, which speak what spirit
lie was of : Which take as follows.
112
CHAPTER XV.
..Two letters to cement differences, and cause
love ainong christians.
T cannot be expected that wounds
snould be healed till their cause is re-
moved ; that which moveth me to write
to you at present, and put me upon in-
tentions of writing again, is, that I may
do my utmost, by mouth and pen, for
the removal of that which is the cause
of the inward grief and trouble of my
soul, aqd 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 ray asking counsel not only of
iv y own heart, but of God also ; he hath
directed me to that which may be to
hjs glory, and the good of your soul ;
and not only for the removing grief, but
the rejoicings 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 hon-
or of religion : And I beseech yon read
them, not only as from me, who desire
your good with the strength cf 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 persuade myself, you your-
self design, commend and desire : which
is christian charity, and that.sweet meek
gospel spirit, which is so highly and fre-
quently commended by our savior to the
practice of his disciples. Oh, thai where
there has 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 re-
move all old hindrances ; watch contin-
ually lest you give, and be careful not
to take occasion of offence. The ne-
cessity, usefulness, sweetness of true
spiritual love appears by the word of God's
frequent urging of it, by 'the sense of
christians, the uncomfortableness and
deformity of the contrary. 'Now, that
you may in an unmtermitted constancy
enjoy peace within and without, and re*
joice my soul ; I desire you to join your*
own endeavors with the consideration
k
114
pf those things which I shall now anil
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,
to be God's instruments in our souls
and bodies wjiich 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
pf 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 relicks of corruption in them
115
so far the}' have ii; their souls this selfi
love. Now this disorder In out?
minds thereby they are taken off frpm
their rierht ends, in that very natural cor-
r option and depravedness which we re ?
ceived 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
ihan 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 beinir in
God, and living to God, and enjoyment
of God ; and tli£ soul's eternal life will
be, so to know God as to be formed
jntohis likeness, and to be received in-
to a full participation of, and commun*
ion with God. The soul's death here,
is its being fallen off from God and its
being carried into its self ; and its eter-
nal death will be an utter reparation
from him.
Now mankind being thus fallen from
God, Christ is sent from this very end,
to bring man back again to God : And
then man is brought unto God, when he
lit
is brought out of that state ®f self-love
into that state whereby he gives up him-
self wholly to God. Thus the soul be-
ing quickened by the spirit of God,
leaveth off living to its-self, which was
its death ; and lives to God, which is its
life. Here comes in the great duty of
denying ourselves for Christ's sake ; —
which indeed were not duty,- if there
were nothing: in us contrary to God.
This then is our duty not to seek our
own things before the thing's of God :
to lay God's glory as 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 with God.
Now were these deeply rooted in our
hearts, how would contention, anger,
wrath and heart burning, and all things
of this nature cease ? Such influence
would be the taking of God's part a-
gainst 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 con-
fusion, war and misery : And what can
more ji&t-amj equal than this, that
h¥7
•i
God who is the author of our beirfc
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 be-
tween us and true peace ! I beg of you
to spare some time from the world, and
retire into privacy, where you may ap-
ply this to your own soul.
My prayer to God for you out of the
strong yearnings of mv soul towards you
is, That he would make this effectual
to its hilended end, for tjfe inward peace
of your soul, for your comfortable walk-
ing with God in this life, and that cpn-
. dition wherein the wisdom of God hath
placed you. I write these lines with
; the strength of affection : I feel fear,
{?;rief, compassion, working strong! v.—
Oh 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 o.
mind : Yea, if there be any consolation
in Christ, if anv comfort in love, if anv
fellowship in the spirit, if any bowels of
mercy ; fulfil ye my joy, and he like-
H3
blinded, having the same love., being of
one accord, of one mind, Phil. 2. 1. 2.
I leave you to the love and mercy of
God, and to the workings of his spirit,
which alone is able to put life and pow-
er into these words : Which that he
would do, is the earnest request and fer-
vent prayer of yours,
John Jane way.
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 ingenuous acknowledgement, and
sorrowful bewailing of the want of that
self-denial, humility, meekness and love
which doth so much honor to our sacred
profession. Upon the hearing of this
eood news, how strangely was this s:ood
man transported ! Unon the receipt of
a letter from the former • friend, Which
-gave no small satisfaction and hopes
that the former endeavors were not in
vain. And that he misht drive the nail.
o
lit*
to the head, he speedily backs his for-
mer letter, with a second '; which speaks
these words.
DEAR FRIEND,
MY soul is enlarged towards you r
and my affections work within me ; and
yet give me leave now to lay aside those
ilames of natural affection, and to kincHe
My soul with divine love. Here there
is" no fear of running out too far while
all is in Christ, and for Christ. Oh
that now I could let out the strength of
my soul, not as to yourself but as to
God ! Oh that my heart were more en-
larged, that it may be comprehensive of
a more full true christian love t God fc$
altogether loVelv- and to be loved for
himself, and we are so far dark, igno-
rant and blind, as we do not see and
account him most amiable. Oh 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 ! Oh
that I mav love him a thousand times'
more than I do ! That I may rejoice in
m
him, and take the sweetest complacency,
and delight in him alone ; and that I
could let out my affections most, wKere'
I see any thing of himself, any beams
of the image of his holiness, and that
beafeth the impression of his spirit. — •','
Had vou visited me from the dead, could
mv affections' have moved more stronp*-
ly, or my rejoicings 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 good-
ness of Christ to me did appear. . Fulfil
my joy in the Lord.; refresh my bowels,
and let not my rejoicing be in vain. \t
it hath pleased the Lord to make the im-
perfect and weak endeavours of his un-
worthy 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 my-
self ; knowing myself 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 beoatrse
121
cfi in y prom i sc , an d your e x pe c talio:
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 in all actions to
make them divine and excellent, that
there is no labor Lost in endeavouring to
get more of it, even in those in whom it
most aboundeih. The apostle, I Thes.
iv. 9, 10, though he knew that thev were,
taught of God to love one another, and
that they did it towards all the brethren,
vet even them he beseecheth to abound
more and more in that grace of love. —
The former principle out of which this
love doth ari.se (as 1 informed you in my
former It -tter) was the putting off our own
interests and putting On" God's. Now I
shall proceed in mindin'tr vou of another
Christian duty, which is effectual in the
knitting us together in a firm operative'
love, [\nd that ib this ; that a christian is to
walk as one that is a member of Christ Je-
sus. Into what near and close union are
those that are given him by the Father re-
ceived ! Mow hath the Holy Ghost chosen
L
out all the nearest natural relations to ex-
press 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 ou-r 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 branch-
es ; he our head, and we are his mem-
bers ; 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 b our head, and we
are his members, so he hath an absolute'
command over us. And where this re-
lation is real, obedience to the commands
of Christ is sweet, and without con-
straint and force : Now this is Christ's
command, that we should love one ano-
ther : By this, salth he, shall all men
know vou are hiy disciples*, if vou love
one another. Those relations into which
Christ receiveth his, sneak and hold
forth a willing, cheerful, full submission
to the commands of Christ, imd 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
tlBsduty, 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
Ihc strength of it, canno* break. It is
Christ hath commanded, and shall not we
obey ? Shall not the love of Christ con-
strain 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 over-
come 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 commends 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
#t the first hearing abundance of allur-
ing violence ? This Is Christ's yoke,
and here we may well say, his yoke is
easy, and his burden light. What is
there in a life of divine love that we need
be afraid of ? What is there in this com-
mand that is grievous ? How can this
voke be uneasy? What reason to be
loth to take it on ? But such is the base
degeneracy and unreasonableness of cor-
rupted natures that when any thins: comes
in competition with self-love, then all
bonds must be broken, all yokes must
be cast off, and nothing will then keep
r.s in, but we must and will take our
own part, though never so bad : And
our own part in the heart of passion
must seem best, thcugli it be ccnticry
to infinite righteousness, which is God
biraself* O that we could once learn to
lay aside this natural prejudice which we
h a v e a ga i n s t ivh a t s oe v e r d p t h t h wa rt our
humors, though it be never so just, ho-
ly and rational. O that we could look
more narrowly, and search more exactly
into ourselves, with a spiritual eye, and
then we could not but see t.bat whicli
would make us loath ourselves, and to
become abominable ill our own eves.
'
end rather take any part than -gut p\vi\
we should see so much deceitfulness in
ourselves, as that we should think out-
case bad, though it seemed never so
7 o
good to our natural self, till we apply it
tG the rule. Rule, nature would have
none but itself ; and though in our bet-
ter 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 chris-
tians, learn to diny self, and wholly to
submit ourselves to the command of
Christ, as our only rule. O let the pow-
er of Christ's Invc and command make
iis obedient to this command of love !
SccowUy. If we are to walk as mem-
bers 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 na*
1
,\me passeth from the head thro' ail the
members : Now, if we he fc grafted into
Christ, we must become of the same na-
ture with him: Let us be followers of
Christ as dear children, and walk in love,
p Christ also hath loved us, Paul bids
us to be followers of himself, as he was
follower of Christ ; Christ then is to be
our great pattern : l]f commands us to
learn of him, for he was meek. 1 or us
to think to attain unto a perfect conform-
ity to him, is in vain ; but as much as
pur natures are capable of, wc are to
strive for it. .Christ's love to us, hath
breadth, and length, and depth, and heigjtfi
which passeth Knowledge* Greater ioyc
hath no man than this, that a man should
lav down his life for his friend, but here-
in Christ commended his love to us, in
that while we were enemies, Christ died
for us. Behold what manner of [eye is
this, that Christ hath bestowed on us !
Hereby perceive we the love of Goel
(that is Christ) because he laid down his
life for us, 1 John, iii. 16. His infer-
ence is there the same as mine, and
that in a higher degree ; we ought to
Jay down our Jives for the brethren. If
12 /
UTe, 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 loving-
kindness amiable ? And would not
something like this in us be desirable ?
Had he more reason to love us than we
have to love pne another ? O let our
scuis be overcome wkh the thoughts: of
.this love of Christ : Let our hearts be
kindled anc| blown up into a flame of
-love by it. O when shall this dear, pre-
cious, pure, eternal love of his over-
power our souls ? When shall it have
its proper effect upon us, to make .us to
.desire earnestly to be like our beloved !
When shall we put on his beauty ! Q
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 eye. Pride, passion, worldiiness,
are those soul deformities which keep
Christ at such a distance from us, and
which hinder his more sweet, frequent
and intimate converse with us
«2S
It is only that Oi himself which Christ
seeth in us which he delighteth in. For
in him is the perfection of all beauty and
exceliencv ; :,nd whatsoever loveliness is
in any thing eise, comes from him, is like
him, and leads to him. Would we know
how much we are beloved of him, let us
see ho w much w e are like him ; for he
c -mnot bill Jove that which is like Him*
self, and if we would be like him, we
must put on love, for God is love, and
he that dwelieth in love dwelieth in God,
and God in Jiira, 1 John iv. 16.
Thirdly. ]f we one I it to walk towards
one ano her as members of the same bor
jjv, whereof Christ is the head, v. hat can
speak a oser tin ion trjan comniembeiv
ship ? >■ man ever yet hated his own
flesh, but -urisheth and cherishcth it.
But we do i. ■ feel the power of. this one-
ness as we oi Jit to do. We are many,
and where the, is division, there will be
dissention : That we may therefore be
more one, 'et us be more in putting of!
purself, and racing into Christ. * Here
'let us look into the loathsomeness of our
natures, whilst off frcrn God, which is
£he cause of all this confusion, and if we
tinpt sec its -deformity in itself, let us
see it in reflection on its bitter effects ;
and when we see our own deformity, for
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
being baptized into the same spirit with
him : And if we have at any time expe-
rienced the more lively and full incomes
of this spirit of Christ, how did it set the
heart on fire ! The soul is then too nar-
row to contain its own affections, how
dearly then could we look upon a saint !
How did pride and wrath vanish, and
melt down into meekness, humility and
iove ! Did we never experience what
this meaneth ! Then let the remem-
brance of the sweetness of it renew it in
us. O, a life of spiritual love is a life in-
deed, a heaven upon earth ! This is a
good rule ; when we lind ourselves in a
m
-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 out;
judgment and .affections always alter, so
balanced.
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 lind him. Christ is
in all those that are his. Let us fear of-
fending Christ in his, for what is done
to them, he will take as done to himself.
It will be said in that great day, inas-
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 concern-
ed \cv him, as for ourselves, and more
too. O tire wrongs thai are done to hum,
we shall reckon dorse to us. If we are
•Christ's, Christ's interest will be ours,
and his injuries ours. If wd are Christ's,
we will be as fearful of offending of any
of his, as of wronging ourselves. Christ
1 imsclfxs above the reach of our wrongs,
*o be touched bv them in himself; but
i"\ his members he suffers to this very
cL v. 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 ns endeavor to requite
Christ m 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 (he preciousness, pleasure?
and profit of this love ; I beg of God to
give you a full enjoyment of that sweet-
ness and the joyful fruits of it, the Lord
refresh you with a quick and constant
liense 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 brine: vou. Bv this we
know that we are passed 1 from death to
life, because we love the brethren, 3t
it shall please the Lord to give me leave
to see vou again, I shall come with strong
expectations, and earnest desires of see-
ing a sweet alteration for the better in you
in your deportment and carriage touvirds
one that did deserve better at your hands:.
And what an effect hope of this nature
frustrated, will produce, I beseech yc ,
1*32
to judge. I pray God to 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
Eord will take away all cause of writing
any more of this subject unto you. Your
letter save my hopes a <*ocd 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 mav find voir
drawn nearer to heaven, and see von
with Christ in heaven when time shall be
no more. I leave you in the arms of
love. Jo K N J A X £ W AY.
BY all this van may easilv perceive'"'
what spirit acred him, and how much h
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 lov< ' v 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,
would Christ might have all the love, he'
alone deserves it :■ For my part, I am
afraid and ashamed of the love and res-
pects of Christians. He saw so much
pride, peevishness and division amongst
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 wore
pity that the very name of division were
not buried, and that the time would come
that we might all dearly pay for our un-
brotherlv, nav unchristian animosities.
M
v
CHAPTER XVI.
An account of the latter fiart of his life.
FOR the latter part of his life, he lived
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
4 ' •
that had foundations,, whose builder and
maker was God. His habit, his lan-
guage, 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 some-
what weakened his body. Few christians
attain to such a holy contempt of the
world, r:id to such clear, believing, joy-
ful, constant apprehensions of the tran-
scendent glories of the unseen world.
He made it his whole business to keep
up sensible communion with God, and
to grow into a humble familiarity with
God, and to maintain it. And if by fea-
son of company or any necessary diver-
sions, this was in any measure interrupt-
ed, he would complain like one out of
his element, till his spirit was recovered
into a delightful more unmixed free in-
tercourse with God. I]c was never so
well satisfied, as when he was more im-
mediately engaged in what brought him
nearer to God ; and by this he enjoyed
those comforts frequently, which other
christians rarely meet with. Lis graces
and experiences towards his end grew to
astonishment. His faith got up to a full
assurance ; his desires into a kind of en-
j oyme nt and delight. He was oft brought
into the banqueting 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 spikenard did send forth its pleasant
smell; He had frequent visions of glo.-
rv, and this John lav in the bosom of his
master, and was sure a very beloved dis-
ciple, and highly favored. 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
* Measures that are at the ri^ht hand of
God. Mow oft was he feasted with the
fc&at of fat things, those wipes en the lees
■
well refined ; and sometimes he was like
a giant refreshed with new wine, rejoicing
to run the race that was set before him,
whether of doing or of suffering. He
was even sick of love, and he could say
to the poor unexperienced world, G taste
and see ! And to christians, come and I
will tell you what God hath done for my
soul. G what do christians mean that
they do no more to get their senses spir-
itually exercised ? G why do they not
make religion the very business of their
lives ? O whv is the soul, Christ and srlo-
ry so much despised ? Is there noth-
ing 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 one's calling
and election sure ? G why do men and
women jest and dally in the great mat-
ters of eternity ? Little do people think
what they slight, when the}' are seldom
and formal in secret duties, and when
,they neglect that great duty of medita-
tion, which I have through rich merer
found so sweet and refreshing : G what
do christians mean, that they keep at such
a distance from a Christ ? Did thev but
i
know the thousandth part of that sweet-
ness that is in him, they could not choose
but follow him hard ; they would run
and not he weary, and walk and not faint.
He could sensibly and experimentally
commend the ways of God to the poor un-
experienced world, and say, his ways are
pleasantness ; andjustiiy wisdom, and say,
her paths are peace. He could take off
those aspersions, which the devil, and the
atheistical frantic sots do cast upon Godli-
ness in the power of it. Here is one that
could challenge all die atheists in the world
to dispute ; here is one could bring sensi*
b!e 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 pleas-
ure 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 forever ? Which
of them can say among their cups and
whores, I can now look death in the
face ; and, this very moment I can b©
m
content, yea glad, to leave these de-
lights, as knowing I shall enjoy better,
And this he could do, when he fared
deliciously in spiritual 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 fullness of joy ;
at his right hand there are pleasures
ibrevermore. Where is the Belshazzar
that would not quake in the midst of his
cups, whilst he is quailing and carousing
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 be-
fore the mighty God"? Where is the
sinner that cpuld be content to hear the
Lord roaring out of Zion, whilst he is
roaring in the tavern ? Which of them
would be glad to hear the trumpet
sound, and to hear that voice, Arise ye
dead and come to judgment ? Which of
them would rejoice to see the mountains
quaking, the elements melting with fcr-
vent heat, and the earth consumed with
flames ; and the Lord Christ whom they
despised, coming in the clouds with
millions of his saints ancj angels, to be
avenged upon those that .knew 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
these was the condition of this holy young
man. In The midst of all worldly com-
fdrts he longed for death ; and the
thought of the day of judgment made all
his enjoyments sweeter. O how did he
long for the coming of Christ I Whilst
some have been discoursing by him of
that great and terrible day of the Lord,
he would smile, and humbly express his
delight in the forethought of that ap-
proaching hour.
I remember once there was a creat
talk, that one had foretold that dooms-
day should be upon such a day ; altho'
he blamed their daring folly, that would
pretend to know that which was hid
from the Angels themselves, and thitt
p
the devil could not acquaint them with ,
yet granting their suspicion to he true,
what then, said he ? What if the clay of
judgment were come, as it will most
certainly come shortly ? If I were sure
the day of judgment were to begin within
an hour, I should be glad with all my
heart. If at this very instant I should
hear thunderings, and see such lightnings
as Israel did at Mount Sinai, I am per-
suaded my very heart would leap for
joy. But this I am confident of, thro'
infinite mercy, that the very medita-
tion 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. SureJv nothing can more re-
vive 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 Ja^
cob ? I lately dreamed that the day of
judgment was come : Methought I
heard terrible cracks of thunder, and
saw dreadful lightnings ; the founda-
tions of the earth did shake, and the heav-
ens were roiled together as a garment ^
141
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 comins: in the clouds. Me-
thought I beheld the antient of days sit-
ting 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 ten thousands ministered
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 ecstacy q£
joy was I surprised ! Methought it was
the most heart raising sight that ever my
eyes beheld : and then I cried out, I
have waited for thy salvation O God ;
md so I mounted into the air, to meet
2iy Lord in the clouds.,
This I record, only to shew how far
he was from being daunted at the tho'ts
)f death or judgment : And to let other
ristianskiiQW what is attainable in this
A. TT,
<*o
Jife ; and what folly it is for us to take
up with so little, when our Lord is pleas-
ed to make such noble provisions for
us, and by a wise and diligent im-
provement of those means which God
hath offered us, we may have an entrance
administered to us abundantly into the
everlasting kingdom of our Lord and
Savior Jesus Christ.
Oh how comfortable, how honorable,
and how profitable is this state ! These
are your men that quit themselves like
christians. This is true gallantry, no-
ble manhood, real valor ! 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 u-
sually walked in a sweet, even, humble
serenity of spirit, and his refreshing joys
were more considerable than his des-
pondings ; and though he daily ques-
tioned many actions, yet did not ques-
tion his state, but had his heart fixed
upon that rock that never winds nor
waves could shake. His senses were
still so spiritually exercised, as that he
could look up to heaven as his. country
HZ
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 wil-
ling to live, and a very great pitch of
seif-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, \i horn his soul was so much in love
with. In a word, he had the most ear-
nest desires to be dissolved and to be with
Christ, that J ever saw, read or heard of
since the apostles' times,
CHAPTER' XVII.
His last sickness and death,
AND now the time draws nigh, where^
in his longings shall be satisfied ;
he is called to his last work ; and truly,
his deportment in it was honorable- ; his
carriage so eminently gracious, so meek,
patient, fruitful, joyful, and thankful,
that it made all his friends stand and
wonder, as being abundantly above their
experience and reading ; and those chris-
tians that saw him, could not but ad-
Hi
mire God in him, and look upon hi in as
one of the most singular instances of rich
prace, and even bless God that their eves
ever saw, or their cat's ever heard such
things ;, and had such a sensible demon-
stration of the reality of invisibles.
He falls into a decfi consutn/ilion.
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
nc ghastly thing to one diat had his eye up-
on the blood of Jesus ; faint sweats did
not daunt him that had alwavs such revi-
ving 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 awhile sick, a sud-
den dimness seized upon his eyes ; by
and by his sight failed ; and there was
such a visible alteration in him, that he
and others iudsred these thinss to be the
symptoms of death approaching. But
when he was thus taken, he was not in
the least surprized ; but was lifted up
with joy to think what a life he was go-
ing to, looking upon deafh itself as one
of his maker's servants, and his friend
that was sent as a messenger to conduct
him safely to his glorious palace.
When he felt Ins body ready to faint he-
called to his mother and said, dear moth-
er I am dying, but I beseech you be not
troubled;* for 1 am thro' mercy, quite
above the fears of death, it's" no great
matter. I have nothing which troubles'
me but the apprehensions of your grief,
] am p*oin<? to Him whom' I love above
lite. . •.
But it pleased the Lord to raise him'
again a little out of his fainting lit, for
fits master had yet more work for him to
do before he mutt receive his "wages.—
Altho' his outward man decayed apace,
yet he is renewed in the inward man day
Dv dav : His graces were never more ac~*
tive, and his experiences were never
greater. When one would have thought
he should have been taken tip!, with his
distemper, and that it had been enough for
him tc grapple with his pains, then he
quite forgets his weakness j raid is : so
swallowed up of the life to come, that lie
Had scarce leisure to think dfhis sickness*
146-
For several- weeks together, I never
Beard the least word that savored of any
complaint or weariness under the hand
of God, except his eager desire to be
with Christ be counted complaining,
and his hast* to be in heaven be called
impatience. Now is the time when
one midit 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 e-
qual to both.
Oh the rare attainments ! The iuVh
and divine expressions that dropped
from his mouth ! •' I have not words to
express what a strange triumphant angel-
ical frame he was in for some considera-
ble time together. It was a very heav-
en upon earth to see and hear a mail ad-
miring God at such a rate as I never
heard any^ nor expect to hear nor see
more, till I come to heaven. Those
that did not see cannot well conceive
what a swe«t frame he was in for at least
? ix weeks before he died. His soul w T as
almost filled with those joys unspeaka-
ble and full of jHorv. How oft would
fee cry out. Oh, that I could but let ypu
"^47
know what I now feel ! Oh, that I could
shew. you what I see! Oh, that I could
express the thousandth part of that sweet-
ness I now find in Christ! You would
Ml then think it well worth the while to
make it your, business to be rehVious>»-
Oh, 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 4
possibility of recovery, makes me even
tremble.
When one came to visit him, and
told him, that he hoped it might please
God to raise him again, and that he had
seen manv a weaker man restored to
health, and that lived many a good year
after: And t do you think to please me
'(said he) by such discourse as this ?-r-
No, my friend, you are much mistaken
in me, if you think that the thoughts of
life, and health, and the world, are pleas-
ing to me. The world hath quite lost
its excellency in my judgment. Oh
how poor and contemptible a thing is it
in c 11 its glory, compared with the glory
I «•.
pf that invisible world, which I now live
in the sight of ! and as for life, Christ is
jny 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 «ay to me [you are no man of
this world, you cannot possibly hold out
long i before to-morrow you will be in
eternity.] I tell you I do so long to be
with Christ that 1 could be contented to
be cut to pieces, and to be put to the most
exquisite torments, so I might die and
be with Christ. Oh, how sweet is Jesus !
Come Lord Jesus, come quickly. Death
do thy worst ! Death hath lost its terri-
bleness. 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
earnestly as ever I desired any thing of
you in my life, that you would cheerful-
ly 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 unto them: I charge you ail
do not pray for my life any more ; you
do wrong me if you do.. Oh that glory,
the unspeakable glory that I behold. — ■
My heart is full, my heart is full. Christ
smiles and I cannot but choose to smile ■;
Can you find in your heart to stop me
.who are now going to the complete and
eternal enjoyment of Christ ? Would
you keep me from my crown ? The arms
of my blessed savior are open to embrace
me ; the angels s-tand *;eady to carry my
soul into his bosom. Oh did you but
see what I see, you would all cry out
vwith me, IJow long, dear Lord ; Come
Lord Jesus, come quickly I Oh, why are
his chariot wheels so slow a coming.
And all this while he lay like a tri-
umphing conqueror, smiling ancl rejoi-
cing in spirit.
There was never a day towards his
end but (weak as he was) he did some
special piece of service in, for his <rreat
n
master. Yea, almost every hour did
produce fresh wpnderSo
A reverend, judicious, and holy min-
ister came often to visit him, and dis-
coursed with him upon 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 lowar state ; I can hold no more here.
,Oh that I could but let vou know what I
feel !
►
This holy minister praying with him,
his soul was ravished with the abundant
incomes of light, life and love; so thnt
he could scarce bear it, aor the thought
of staying any longer in the world, but
longed to be in such a condition wherein
he should have yet 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 extacies of iov and love, he was
wonttocrv out :
m
Who am I Lord, who am I, that thou
shouldst be mindful of me ! Why me,
J J
Lord, why me, and pass by thousands
;md look upon such a vi retch as me.—
Oh, what shall I say unto thee, Oh thou
preserver of men ? Oh, why me Lord,
Why .me ? O blessed be free craec ! —
How is it, Lord, that thou shouldst
manifest thyself unto me, and not unto
others, even so, Father, because it seem-
eth good in thy eyes, thou wilt have mer-
cy because thou wilt have mercy. —
And if then wilt look upon such a worm#
who can hinder ! Whd would not love
thee ! Oh blessed Father ! Oh how
i-.reet and gracious hast thou been unto
me I Oh 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. Fie was
wonderfully taken with the goodness of
God to him in sending that aged expe-
rienced minister to help him in his last
great work upon earth, Who am I, said
he ; that God should send to me a messen-
152
ger one among a thousand, (meaning
that minister who had been praying with
him with tears of joy.)
Though he was towards his end most
commonly in a triumphant joyful frame ;
yea, 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
^lp to the highest pitch of thankfulness,
admiration and love ; he would with
great sorrow bemoan himself, and cry
out in this language :
And what's the matter now, Oh mv
soul, what wilt thou, canst thou thus uiir
worthily slight this admirable and aston-
ishino: 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 ador§*^ind praise this rare,
strong and unspeakable love! Is it true,
Oh my soul, doth God deal familiarly
with man, and are his humble zealous,
humble constant love, praise and service
lii.5
too Kood for God ? Whv art thou not
Oil my soul, swallowed up every mo-
ment with this free, unparalleled, ever-
lasting love.
And then he breaks out again in a-
pother -triumphant ecstasy of praise and
joy ; and expressed a Jittje of that which
■'-as unexpressible in some such words
as these :
Stand astonished ye heavens, and won-
der O ye angels, at this infinite grace f
■Was ever any under heaven more behol-
den to free grace than I ? Doth God use
to do thus with his creatures ? Admire
him forever and ever, O ye redeemed
ones! O those joys, the taste of which I
have ! The everlasting joys which are at
Ins richt hand for evermore ! Eternity,
eternity itself is too short to praise God
in. O bless the ,Lord with me, come
let us shout for iov, and boast in the
God of our salvation. O help me to
praise the Lord, for his mercy endureth
forever.
One of his brethren (that had former-
ly been wrought upon by his holy ex-
hortations and example) praying with
him, (as he apprehended) near his disso-
>»
134
Jution^ 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
tdone here,, give him, if it were his will, the
most easy and triumphant passage to
rest; and that he might have an abun-
dant entrance administered into the ev-
erlasting kingdom of our Lord and sav-
iour Jesus. Christ.
At the end of the duty, he burst out
jnto a wonderful passion of joy. (Sure
that was joy unspeakable and full of glo-
ry !) Oh what an amen. did he speak, a-
men, amen, amen, Hallelujah.
It would have made any Christian's
heart to leap, to have seen and heard,
what some saw and heard at that time;
and I question not, but that it will some-
what affect 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 precedent, it
did even astonish and amaze those of us
that were about him, that qui" relation
155
nu st fall hugely short of wnat was reaL
I verily believe that it exceeds the'
highest rhetoric, to set out to the life
-/hat this heavenly creature did then del-
iver. I say again, I want words to speak,
fnd so did he ; for he saw things unut-
erable : But yet, so much he spake as
ustly drew the admiration of all that saw*
'rim ; and I heard an old experienced chris-'
tan and minister say it again and again,
hat he never saw', nv? read, nor heard
he like. Neither could we ever expect'
to see the glories of heaven more demon-
strated to sense in this world. He talked
fe if he had been in the third Heavens,
md broke out in such w ords as these :
O, he is come f he is come t O how
;weet ! how glorious is the blessed Je-
sus ! how shall Ido to speak the thou-
andth part of his praises 1 O for words,
o set out a little of that excellency !
3ut it is unexpressible ! O how' excel--,
ent, glorious and lovely is the precious
esus ! he is sweet, he is altogether love-
ly ! and now I am sick of love, he hath
•nvished my soul with his beauty ! I
;hall die sick of love !
O mv friends, stand by and wonder
15
o^iht look open a dying rilanf and won-
der ; I cannot myself but stand and won-
der I Was there ever greater kindness,
was thare ever sensibler manifestations
of rich grace ! O, why rhe, Lord, why
me ! Sure this is akin to heaven, and i?
I were never to eniov any more than this,
it were well worth all the torments that
men and devils could invent, to come
through even a hell to such transcendent
joys as these. If this be dyhig, dying
is sweet : Let no true christians ever be
afraid of dying. O death is sweet to me.
This bed is soft. Christ* s arms and kiss-.
es, 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 cheerful than
you ever saw any healthful man in the
midst of his sweetest enjoyments,' O
sirs, worldly pleasures arc pitiful, poor,
sorry things, compared With one glimpse
of this glory which shines so strongly in-
to my soul ! O why should any of you
be so sad, when 1 am so glad : This,-
this is the hour that I have waited for.
About eight and forty hours before his
ith, liis eves were dim, and his sight
157
much failed ; his jaws shook and trembled,
and his feet were cold, and all the symp-
toms of death were upon him, and his ex-
treme parts were already almost dead and
senseless, and yet, even then his joys were
(if possible) greater still : He had so many
iits cf joy unspeakable, that he seemed to
be 111 one coiitin u ed act of seraph ic love and
praise. He spake like one that was just
entering into the gates of the N'ew-Jerusa-
lem : Trie greatest part of him was now in
heaven ; not a word dront from his mouth
but it breathed Christ and heayen. O
what encouragements did he give to them
which did stand by, to follow hard after
God, and to follow Christ in an humble,
believing, zealous course of life, and ad-
ding, one degree of grace to another, and
using all diligence to make their calling
and election sure ; and that then, they
also should find, that they should have a
glorious passage into a blessed eternity.
But most of his work was praise, an
hundred times admiring of the bottom-
less love of God to him. O, why me,
Lord, why me ! And then he would give
instructions to them that came to see him*
O
«6
He was scarce ever silent, because the
love of Christ and sduls did constrain
him. There was so much work done
for Christ in his last hours, that 1 am
ready to think, he did as much in an
Hour as manv do in a vear.
Every particular person had a faith-
ful affectionate warning. And that good
minister that was so much with him, us-
c*d this as an argument to persuade him
to be willing to live a little longer, and to
be patient to tarry God's leisure ; sure
God ftatb something 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 filled with
trie love of Christ, that lie could scarce
bear absence from him a moment. He
knew lie should be capable of bearing
greater glory above than he could here.
It was the judgment 01 some that were
with him, that his heart was not only ha-
bituallr, but actually set on God all the day
long, and nothing of human frailty that
could be thought a sin, did appear for some
time, except it were his compassionate
desire to die, and difficulty to bring him-
self to be willing to stav below heaven.
U9
lie 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 a comfortable meeting at
our Father's house in that other world.
I cannot relate the twentieth part of
that which deserved to be written in let-
ters of eold. And one that was none of
the weakest, said, that he did verily be-
lieve, 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 cannot omit, which
; was this, .that when ministers or chris-
tians came to see 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
Jove 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
X M0
heaven. I expect no more here, I can't
desire more, I can't bear more. O praise,
praise, praise that infinite boundless love-
that hath, to a wonder, looked upon rny
soul, and done more for me than thous-
ands of his dear children, O bless the
Lord, O my soul, and all that is within
me, bless his holy name. O help me,
help me, O my friends, to praise and ad-
mire him that hath done such astonish-
ing wonders for my soul ; he hath par-
doned all my sins, he hath filled me with
goodness, he hath given' m© grace and
S'lory, and no crood thinsr hath he with-
held from me.
Come help me with praises, all is too
little. Come help me, O ye glorious
and mighty angels, who arc 5,0 well skill-
ed in this heavenly work of praise. Praise
him all ye creature's upon the earth, let
every thing that hath being, help to praise
him. Hallelujah, hallelujah', hallelujah :
Praise is now mv work, and I shall be
cpsrageG in that sweet employment for-
ever. Bring the bible, turn to David's
psalms, and let us sing a psalm of praise :
Come let us lift up our voice in the praise
of the most hi'eh ; L with vou as long
16't
mv breath doth last, and when I have
none, I shall do it better.
And then turning to some of his friends
that were weeping, he desired to rejoice
rather than to weep upon his account.
Jt 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 fiitv -fourth of Isaiah was
very refreshing also to him .; he 'would
repeat that word (with everlasting mer-
cies will I gather thee) with abundance
/pf joy.
He commended the study of the prom-
ises to believers, and desired that thev
would be sure to make s^ood their claim
to them, and they nwht 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
o
ml
praise him : I have now nothing else to
do ; I have done with prayer and all oth-
er ordinances ; I have almost done con-
versing 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 pres-
ently stand upon Mount Zion, with au
innumerable company of angels, and the
spirits of the just made perfect, and Je-
sus 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, honor and
power unto the Lord cur God ; and
again, we shall say hallelujah. And yet
a very litt|e while, and I shall sing unto,
the Lamb a soil? of praise\ savin*% won-
thy art thou to receive praise who wert
Main, and hast redeemed us to God L
thy blood, out of every kindred, and
tongue, and people, and nation, and hast
made us unto God, kings and priests,
shall reign with thee forever and
ever
*C3
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
carrv rnv soul to the bosom of Jesus, and
I shall be forever with the Lord in glo-
ry. And who can choose but rejoice in
all this.
In several times he spake this lan-
guage, and repeated many of these words
often, over and over again, with far great-
er 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 observa-
ble in him, is not recorded ; and though
we cannot word it exactly as he did, yet
i>ii have the substance, and many things
in his own words, with little or no varia-
tion, f
The day before his death, he looked
somewhat 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 ac-
count : I thank thee dear brother, for
thy love, said he, thou art now praying
for me, and I know that thou lovest me
dearlv : But Christ lovcst me tzn thou-
sand times more than thou dost : corne
and kiss me, dear brother* before I die :
And so with his cold dying lips he kissed
luiri, and said, I shall go before, and I
hope thou shait follow after to glory.
Though he was almost always prais-
ing God, and exhorting: them that were
about him to mind their everlasting con-
eerns, and secure an interest in Christ :
and though he slept but very little for
some nights ; yet he was not in the least
impaired in his intellectuals, but his ac-
tions were all decent, arid becoming a
man, and his discourse to a spiritual i;n r
derstanding, highly rational, solid anjl
divine. And so he continued to the last
ir/mute of his breath.
A few hours before his death he called
all his relations and brc ^:en 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 briefry as
it follows.
145
First. He thanked his dear mother.for
her tender love to him, and desired that
she might be in travail to see Christ
formed in the souls of the rest of her
children, and see of the travail of her
soul, 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 mother. As for his eld-
est 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
exemplary in his life, and successful in
his ministry, and finish his course with
His next brother's name was An-
drew, a citizen of London, who was
with 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 broth-
er al London : The Lord make him tru-
ly rich in giving him the pearl of great
price, and making him a fellow-citizen
with the saints, and of the household 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-
Oh that he may be as his name is, a
strong man, and that I may meet him
with joy.
Then he called his next brother, whose
name was James {whom he hoped God
had made him a spiritual father to) to
whom he thus addressed himself: Bro-
ther James, I hope the Lord hath given
thee a goodly heritage, the lines are fall-
en to thee in pleasant places ; the Lord is
thy portion." I hope the Lord hath
shewed thee the worth of a Christ. Hold
on dear brother ; Christ, heaven and glo-
ry are worth striving for ; the Lord give
thee more abundance of his gn.ee.
Then his next brother, Abraham, was
called, to whom he spake to this pur-
pose : The blessing of the God of Abra-
ham 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
xvas separated from his brethren. O
■
lev
thai his everlasting arms may take hold
on thee ! It is enough, if yet thou may-'
est live in his sight. My heart hath
been working towards thee, poor Joseph,
and I am not without hopes, that the
arms of the Almighty will embrace thee.
The God of thv Father bless thee with
the blessing of heaven above.
The next was his sister Mary, to
whom he spoke thus, poor sister Mary,
thv bodv is weak, and thv davs will be
filled with bitterness ; thv name is Ma-
rail, the Lord sweeten all with his grace
and peace, and give thee health in thy
soul. Be p&tient, 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 ; Oh that thy soul may be
so too ! The Lord make thee first
a wise virgin, then a mother in Israel ;
a pattern of modesty, hu milky and'ho-
l'uess.
Then another brother, Jacob, was call-
ed, whom he blessed after this manner ;
the Lord make thee an Israelite indeed,
m whom there is no guile ! Oh that the--
may est learn to wrestle with God, and
like 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, Oh that
the father of the fatherless would take
care of the poor child, that thou, which
never sawest thy father upon earth, may-
est see him with joy in heaven : The
Lord be thy father and portion ; mayest
thou prove the son of thy mother's right
hand, and the joy of her age.
Oh that none of us all may be found
amongst the unconverted in the day of
Judgment ! Oh that every one of us-
may appear (with our honored father and
dear mother) before Christ with joy, that
they may say, Lord here are we, and the
children which thou hast graciously giv-
en us. Oh that we may live to God
here, and live with him hereafter.
And now, my dear mother, brethren and
sisters, farewell - r I leave you for awhile,
and I commend you to God T and to the
word of his grace, which is able to build
you up, and to give you an inheritance
among all them that are sanctified.
469
And now dear Lord, my work is done.
I have finished my course, I have fought
the good fight ; and henceforth there re-
maineth for me a crown of righteous-
ness ! Now come dear Lord Jesus, come
quickly.
Then , that godly minister came to
give him his last visit, and to do the of-
fice of an inferior angel, to help to con-
vey this blessed soul into 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 al-
most amazed to hear a man just a dying,
talk as if he had been with Jesus, and
came from the immediate presence of
God : Oh 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 man's countenance.
Oh the praise, the triumphant praises that
he put up ! And every one must speak
praise about him, or else they did make
some jar in his harmony.
r
\ i
And indeed most did, as well as they
could, help him in praise. So that t
never heard, nor knew more praise giv-
en to God in one room, than in his*
chamber.
A little before he died, in the prayer*
or rather praises, he was so Wrapped 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, a-
men ! amen !
And now his desires shall soon be sat^
isfied : He seeth death coming apace to
do his office, his jaws are loosened more
and more, and quiver greatly ; his
hands and feet are cold as clav, and a
cold sweat is upon him : But, Oh how
glad was he when he felt his spirit just a
going ! Never was death more welcome
to any mortal, I think. Though 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 el-
dest brother to lay him a little lower, and
w take away one pillow from him, that
he might die with the more ease : His
brother replied, that he durst not for the
world do any thing that might hasten his
death for a moment. Then he was well
satisfied, and did sweetly resign himself
wholly to God's disposal : And after a
few minutes., with a sudden motion gath-
ering up all his strength, he gave himself
a little turn on one side ; and in the
twinkling of an eye departed to the Lord,
sweetly sleeping in Jesus.
And now blessed soul, thy longings
are satisfied, and thou seest and feelest a
thousand times more than thou didst up-
on earth, and yet thou canst bear it with
delight, thou art now welcomed to thy
Father's house by Christ, the beloved of
thy soul : Now thou hast heard him say,
come thou blessed of mv Father ; and,
well done good and faithful servant, en-
ter thou into the joy 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 live with'Christ and
thee, for ever and ever. Amen, Amen.
He died In June, 1657, aged 24, and
was buried in Kehhall church, in Hart-
Jordshire.
FINIS.
CONTENTS.
Page.
Chap. 1. Anaccount of him from his child-
hood to the seventeenth year of his age. 1
Chap. 2. Of his conversion with visible
proofs thereof. 7
Chap. 3. His carriage when fellow of the
college at twenty years of age. 38
Chap. 4. His particular addresses to his
brethren for their souls good, and the suc-
cess thereof. 45
Chap. 5. His great love to, and fervency in
the duty of prayers j with remarkable
success. 4S
Chap. 6. His care of his mother and other
relations after his father's death. 55
Chap. 7. His return to King's college af-
ter his father's death. His holy projects
for Christ and souls. 65
Chap. 8. His departure from the college
to live in Dr. Cox's family. $6
Chap. 9. His retire into the country ; and
his first sickness. 68
Chap. 10. His exhortations to some of his
friends. 72
Chap, 11. His temptations frqrn Satan. 76
30fi CONTENTS.
Page.
Chap. 12. Ministers not to carry on low-
designs. 94
Chap. 13. His love and compassion to souls. 103
Chap. 14. His trouble at the barrenness of
christians. 108
Chap. 15. Two letters to cement differen-
ces, and cause love among christians. 112
Chap. 16. An account of the latter part of
his life. 134
Chap. 17. His last sickness and death. 143
|C7"* IP the chapters afifiear not to be well
divided^ nor their contents iveil collected, let the
reader know that a friend cf Mr. JjNEWAr y
not hhn$elf % made the division of them.
*
\
JAN 2 4 1936