CHAPTER V.

_An account of the latter part 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 lived in the constant sight of a better. He plainly declared himself but a pilgrim that looked for a better country, a city that had foundations, whose builder and maker was God. His habit, his language, his deportment, all spoke him one of another world. His meditations were so intense, long, and frequent, that they ripened him apace for heaven. Few attain to such a holy contempt of the world, and to such a clear, joyful constant apprehension of the world that is to come.

He made it his whole business to grow into an humble familiarity with God, and to maintain it. And if by reason of company, or any necessary business, this was in any measure interrupted, he would complain like one out of his element, till his spirit was recovered into a delightful, unmixed, free intercourse with God. He was never so well satisfied, as when he was more immediately engaged in what brought him nearer to God; and by this he constantly enjoyed those comforts, which others rarely meet with. His graces and experiences toward his end grew to astonishment. He was oft brought into the banqueting-house, and there Christ’s banner over him was love. His eyes beheld the king in his beauty: he had frequent visions of glory, and lay in the bosom of his master. He was even sick of love, and could say to the world, _O taste and see_! And to Christians, _Come and I will tell you what God hath done for my soul_. O what do Christians mean that they do no more to get their senses spiritually exercised? Little do people think what they slight, when they are formal in secret duties, and when they neglect that great duty of _meditation_. Did they but know the thousandth part of that sweetness that is in Christ, they could not choose but follow him hard; they would run and not be weary; and walk and not be faint.

In the midst of all worldly comforts he longed for death; and the thoughts of the day of judgment made all his enjoyments sweeter. O, how did he long for the coming of Christ! 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 its approach.

I remember once, one had foretold that _doomsday_ should be upon such a day: although he blamed their daring folly, yet granting their suspicion to be true, he said, what if the day of judgment were to come, as it certainly will come shortly? If I were sure it were to begin within an hour, I should be glad with all my heart. If at this instant I should hear such thunderings, and see such lightnings, as Israel did at mount _Sinai_, my very heart would leap for joy. Through infinite mercy, the very meditation of that day ravishes my soul, and the thought of the nearness of it is more refreshing than the comforts of the whole world. Surely nothing can more revive my spirits than to behold the blessed Jesus, the joy, and life of my soul. Would it not more rejoice me than _Joseph_’s waggons did old _Jacob_? I lately dreamed that the day of judgment was come. Methought I heard terrible cracks of thunder, and saw dreadful lightnings; the foundations of the earth shook, and the heavens were rolled together as a garment; methought I saw the graves opened, and the earth and sea giving up their dead; I saw millions of angels, and Christ coming in clouds. I beheld the Ancient of Days sitting upon his throne, and all other thrones cast down. 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; ten thousand times ten thousand stood before him; and the judgment was set and the books were opened. Oh with what an extasy of joy was I surprized! It was the most heart-raising sight that ever my eyes beheld: I cried out, _I have waited for thy salvation O God_; and mounted into the air, to meet my Lord.

This was the condition of Mr. _Janeway_ for about three years before he died. He had some clouds; but he usually walked in a sweet, even, humble serenity of spirit; having his heart fixed upon that rock that neither waves nor winds could shake.