The family of the Janeways was distinguished for the number of its members who were devoted to the Christian ministry. Nearly all of them were eminent on account of their piety, zeal and usefulness. The father, William Janeway, was settled in Harpenden in 1644 and later became minister of Kelshall, where, after a severe spiritual conflict, he died in holy triumph. Being under dark apprehensions of mind in his last illness, he said to his son: “Oh, John! this passing into eternity is a great thing; this dying is a solemn business, and enough to make one’s heart ache, that hath not his pardon sealed 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 say cheerfully, I can die; and upon good grounds be able to look death in the face, and venture upon eternity with well-grounded peace and comfort!” His son retired to solitary prayer, earnestly imploring that his beloved father might be filled with joy in believing, as a token for good in leaving the world. These intercessions were manifestly heard and answered by a very bright beam of the divine countenance. Upon returning to his father the son enquired how he felt. No answer was given; but the departing saint, though little subject to such emotions, wept for a long time, in an extraordinary manner, till at last he broke forth in the language of impassioned exaltation: “Oh, son! 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 His child. Now I can look upon God as my dear Father and Christ as my Redeemer: I can now say, This is my Friend, and this is my Beloved! My heart is full; it is brim full; I can hold no more. I know now what that sentence means, ‘The peace of God which passeth understanding.’ I know now what that white stone is, whereon a new name is written, which none know but they who 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 for my heart contain myself; neither can I express what glorious discoveries God hath made of himself to me. And had that joy been greater, I question 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. O help me to bless the Lord! He hath put a new song into my mouth. O bless the Lord for His infinite goodness and mercy! Oh, now I can die! it is nothing; I bless God I can die. I desire to be dissolved, and to be with Christ.
The eldest son was also named William Janeway. He was admitted to the University of Cambridge about 1630, and in all probability succeeded his father at Kelshall, as he resided there, and was a preacher, in 1657.
John Janeway, the next brother was a most remarkable man. He was born October 27, 1633 at Lilley, and was successively educated at Paul’s School, Eton College, and Kings College, Cambridge, of which he afterwards became a fellow. His reputation was so great at the period of his admission, though only 17 years of age, that the electors contended for the honour of being his patron. The following year the Lord was pleased, says his brother, sweetly to unlock his heart, by the exemplary life and heavenly and powerful discourse of a young man in the college, whose heart God had inflamed with love to his soul. The Holy Spirit sent home to his heart the counsels of the young man with such power, that they proved effectual for his awakening, being accompanied with the preaching of two famous preachers, Dr Hill and Dr Arrowsmith, together with the reading of several parts of Mr Baxter’s “Saints’ Everlasting Rest”. No sooner was he converted to God than he manifested the deepest interest in the spiritual condition of his brethren and friends, speaking and writing to them in terms of extraordinary urgency and power. As a fellow of a college he used his utmost efforts to promote religion in the minds of all with whom he came in contact, and over whom he could exert influence.
He was engaged for a time in the service of a family as a private tutor, but ill health compelled him to relinquish his situation, and he retired to live in the country with his mother and brother. Fears were entertained that he would not live but not only did he enjoy a perfect peace himself, he was the consoler and instructor of others around him, and of some at a distance by his pen with holy words and heavenly pleadings.
At the age of 22 he devoted himself to the Christian ministry, a work for which he was eminently qualified. It is remarkable, however, that he lived to preach only two sermons, the subject of which was — both being from the same text — on communion with God. That dreadful scourge of humanity, consumption, at length brought him to the grave in June 1657 at the early age of 23. His death-bed was a field of triumph. Never, perhaps, was piety more exalted, or victory over death more complete.
When one visitor said he hoped it might please God to raise him up again he answered: “And do you think to please me by such discourse as this? No, friend, you are much mistaken in me, if you think that the thoughts of life, and health, and the world, are pleasing to me. The world has quite lost its excellency in my judgment. Oh, how contemptible a thing is it in all its glory, compared with the glory of that invisible world which I now live in the sight of? And as for life, Christ is my 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 say to me, You are no man of this world: you cannot possibly hold out long: before tomorrow you will be in eternity. I tell you I do so long to be with Christ, that I should be content to be cut in pieces, and to be put to the most exquisite tortures, so I might but die and be with Christ. Oh, how sweet is Jesus! Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly. Death, do thy worst! Death has lost its terribleness. 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.”
His biographer says: “About 48 hours before his death, his eyes were dim; and his sight much failed; his jaws shook and trembled, and his feet were cold, and all the symptoms of death were upon him, and his extreme parts were already almost dead and senseless; and yet, even then, his joys were, if possible, greater still. He had so many fits of joy unspeakable, that he seemed to be in one continued act of seraphic love and praise. He spake like one that was just entering into the gates of the new Jerusalem; the greatest part of him was now in heaven; not a word dropped from his mouth but it breathed Christ and heaven. O what encouragements did he give to those about him to follow hard after God, and to follow Christ in a humble, believing, zealous course of life, and adding all diligence to make their calling and their election sure, and that then they also should find that they should have a glorious passage into a blessed eternity.”
When ministers or Christians came to him, he would beg them to spend all the time 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 love 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 heaven. I expect no more here, I cannot desire more, I cannot hear more. Oh, praise, praise, praise that infinite, boundless love, that hath, to a wonder, looked upon my soul, and done more for me than thousands of His dear children. Oh, bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless His holy Name. Oh, help me, help me, O my friends, to praise and admire Him that hath done such astonishing wonders for my soul; He hath pardoned all my sins, He hath filled me with His goodness, He hath given me grace and glory, and no good thing hath He withheld from me.
Come, help me with praises, all that’s little; come, help me, O ye glorious and mighty angels, who are so well skilled in this heavenly work of praise! Praise Him, all ye creatures upon the earth; let everything that hath being help me to praise Him! Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah! Praise is now my work, and I shall be engaged in that sweet employment for ever. Bring a 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 High; I with you as long as my breath doth last, and when I have none, I shall do it better.
When a godly minister came to give him his last visit, his heart was in a mighty flame of love and joy, which drew tears of joy from the minister, being almost amazed to hear a man just a-dying talk as if he had been with Jesus, and come from the immediate presence of God. Oh, the praise, the triumphant praises, that he put up! A little before he died, in the prayer, or rather praises, he was so wrapt 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, Amen, amen!