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Full text of "Invisibles, realities, demonstrated in the holy life and triumphant death of Mr. John Janeway, fellow of King's College in Cambridge"


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^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 


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 

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- 


[ 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. 


[ 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, 


Invisibles^ MealitieSj 


< 5 




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 


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 


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 


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, 


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 



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 


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 


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< 


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 


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 


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. 


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 


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 


•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- 


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. 




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- 


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 


" 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 


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- 


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. 


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 


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- 

His sweet and dutiful Son made a : 
suitable reply at present ; but seeing ruV 
dear lather continuing under despond 


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 


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 


/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 


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 



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, 


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 


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 


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 


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 

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 ; 


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 



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 : 


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. 


Ills departure from College to live in Dr. Cox* a 


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- 

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 . 


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, 


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 


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; 


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. 


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 


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** 


fulness of God. Is not this enough ?— 


What wouldst thou have more ?■ Fling 
away all besides God ; God is portion 
enough, and the only proper portion of 
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 


;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, 


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 

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 


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 


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 

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- 

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 

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 



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 


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 


:&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. 




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. 


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' 


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 

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 


; 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. 



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 


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 


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 


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- 

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. 


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 <■ 


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 


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 ?— ~ 


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. 


..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 



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 


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 


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 



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- 


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. 



to the head, he speedily backs his for- 
mer letter, with a second '; which speaks 
these words. 


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 


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 


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 


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* 


,\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 


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 


-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 

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 , 


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. 




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 


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© 


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 


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 ^ 


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, 


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 


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, 


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- 


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* 


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 


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 

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 

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 


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 : 


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- 


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 


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 

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- 



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 


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 


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 


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* 



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. 


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 


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 



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 



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. 


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 



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- 

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. 


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 

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. 


\ 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* 

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- 




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 



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