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

But it pleased the Lord to raise him again a little out of this fainting fit, for his master had yet more work for him to do before he must receive his wages. Although his outward man decayed apace, yet he is renewed in the inward man day by day: His graces were never more ⟨p. 100⟩active, and his experiences were never greater. When one would have thought, he should have been taken up with his distemper, and that it had been enough for him to grapple with his pains, then he quite forgets his weakness; and is so swallowed up of the life to come, that he had scarce leisure to think of his sickness.

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

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

O the rare attainments! The high and divine expressions, that dropped from his mouth! I have not words to express what a strange, triumphant, angelical frame, he was in, for some considerable time together. It was a very Heaven upon earth, to see and hear a man admiring God at such a rate, as I never heard any, nor ever expect to hear or see more, till I come to Heaven. Those that did not see cannot well conceive, what a sweet frame he was in, for at least six weeks before he died. His soul was almost always filled with those joys unspeakable and full of glory. How oft would he cry out; O, that I could but let you know what I now feel! O, that I could show you what I see: