little kindness for morality, much less for grace, could not but speak well of him. His great wisdom and learning did even command respect, where they did not find it. He had an excellent power over his passions, and was, in a great measure, free from the vice which usually attends such an age and place.

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

CHAP. II.

Of his Conversion, with visible Proofs thereof. THE great work of conversion, it was not carried on upon his soul in that dreadful manner that it is upon some, that

God intends to communicate much to, and make great use of, but the Lord was pleased sweetly to unlock his heart, by the exemplary life, and heavenly and powerful discourse, of a young man in the college, whose heart God hath inflamed with love to his soul: he quickly made an attempt upon this hopeful young man, and the Spirit of God did set home his counsels with such power, that they proved effectual for his awakening; being accompanied with the preaching of those 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 now so much taken up with things above the moon and stars, that he had little leisure to think of these things, only as they pointed higher. He began now not to taste so much sweetness in those kind of studies, which he did so greedily employ himself in formerly. He now began to pity them who were curious in their inquiries after every thing, but that which is most needful to be known, Christ and themselves; and that which sometimes was his gain, he now counted loss for Christ; yea, doubtless he esteemed all things but as dung and dross in comparison of Christ, and desired to know nothing but Christ and him crucified. Not that he looked upon human learning as useless; but when fixed below Christ, and not improved for Christ, he looked upon wisdom as folly, and learning as madness; and that which would make one more like the devil, more fit for his service, and put a greater accent upon their misery in another world.

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

He was not a little like young Elihu, 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 spirit in man, and the inspiration of the Almighty giveth them understanding; I am full of matter, the spirit within me constraineth me: behold my belly is as wine which hath no vent, it is ready to burst, like new bottles; I will speak, that I may be refreshed," &c. Oh, then how sweet was the savour of his graces! He could not but speak the things which he had seen and heard, and even invite all the world to taste and see how good the Lord was.

He began first with his relations, begging and wooing of them to think of their precious and immortal souls, and to lay in speedy provisions for a death-bed and eternity. Oh! with what compassion did he plead the cause of Christ with their souls! What pathetical expressions did he use! What vehement expostulation! How frequent, how particular in his applications to them! Oh! 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.

"REVEREND SIR;

HIS LETTER.

"There are two things, the want of which I have had experience of in your family, though not in every degree; yet in that intenseness of degree wherein they ought to be; which are, the real power of godliness and religion. And then that which is the fruit of the former, that cheerfulness, delight, spiritual joy, and serenity of mind, which is to be had in religion, and nowhere else; and that not in religion in its weakest degrees, but in a real vigour, power, and life, and in a more close constant walking with God. From a tender sense of the worth of souls, especially those of your family, and knowing the duty which my relation to it doth lay upon me, and having confidence of their well acceptance of it; I have undertaken to open my thoughts unto them.

"In most families in England I fear there is neither the form nor the power of godliness, where there is no

fear of God, no regard of him, no acting under him, or in reference to him. These are, in my opinion, twice dead; nay, not so much as having the dead carcass of religion: objects of pity they are, and, oh! how few are there that spend one compassionate thought upon them! "Others there are, who, some way or other, it may be from tradition from good parents, it may be from knowing the fashion of those in their rank, it may be from the frequent 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, without any kernel or solidity at all. And this generation doth usually trust to this their religion, that it will bring them to a place like a sleeping place in heaven, or keep them out of hell, though they live without God in the world. These are poor creatures too, making haste to their own destruction, and know it not; yea, thinking that they are in a fair way for heaven. Oh! that there were never a family to which we are related, which gave too sad cause of fear, that it were in such a case, or near such a case as this is!

"A third sort of people there are (and but a few of these neither), which have the reality of religion, but yet in much weakness, coldness, faintness, dimness, and intermission; like Nilus's brood, above half 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? Now there are higher attainments to be reached after; there is a having our conversation in heaven while we are upon earth; neither doth this consist in some weak discourses, about God, heaven and the things of religion; it consists not in the mere praying twice a day, and in keeping the sabbath in an usual manner in its order; it consists not in a few thoughts of religious objects coming into the mind in a common way, and as easily lost as got. But true religion raiseth up his soul to longings, hungerings, and thirstings, not without some enjoyments. Religion in power is to act for God with strength, vigour, earnestness, intenseness, delight, cheerfulness, serenity, and calmness of mind. The fruits of the Spirit are joy in the Holy Ghost and peace fear, disquiet, and terrors, are usually the introduction to a better state, but they are not of the es

sentials of religion; yea, the contrary frame of spirit is to be striven for.

"To speak yet more plainly, and to tell you, honoured Sir, what my fears and jealousies are; with reverence to yourself, and tender affection unto all your family, I fear that you yourself are subject to too many desponding melancholy thoughts: the causes whereof give me leave with submission to guess at. The first I think may be 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 respect 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 remedy is the same. These have a wounding power in them, which will be felt to be grievous, when felt as they are in themselves; but continual sorrow and sad thoughts do keep this wound open too long, and are not available to the having of it cured. Wounds indeed must be first opened that they may be cleansed; they must be opened that their filth may be discovered in reference to purging and healing; but no longer than the Balm of Gilead is to be applied, that they may be healed. And when Christ is made use of aright, he leaveth joy and comfort; yea a constant humility of spirit is no way inconsistent with this peace of God.

"A second cause of your heaviness may be a sense of the state of the people which God hath committed to you, and indeed who can but mourn over people in such a condition; objects of pity they are, and the more because they pity not themselves. I have often wrestled with God, that he would direct you in what is your duty concerning them, which I persuade myself is your earnest request. Now if after your serious examining of yourself what your conscience doth conclude to be your duty, you do it, and see you do it; you are then to rest upon God for his effectual working. Let not any think to be more merciful than God, for wherein he doth, he goeth beyond his bounds; and this is no more cause of heaviness to you, than the opposition that the apostles found at any time was, who notwithstanding rejoiced in tribulation.

"Another cause of heaviness may be what divisions are between yourself and some of your relations. Oh,