that they and their families must be plunged into deep calamity, arising entirely from their position as trustees. The stroke so far has been averted; and that the estate may be relieved effectually, that the trustees may be rescued from the jeopardy in which they stand, and that the chapel henceforth may become selfsustaining, a promise has been given by the Chapel Committee to the trustees that, if the latter can raise £1,300, the Committee will provide £700 more, and thus sweep of £2000 of the debt. Hope has moved them to exertion, the trustees have made a noble struggle, and are so far advanced, and some local impediments which stood perplexingly in the way so entirely removed, that the £1,300 may be said to be ready Now; but such is the exhausted state of the Chapel Fund, that the Committee, on behalf of the Connexion, cannot hand over the £700 nor any part of it. In this emergency the Circuits have been appealed to, and have been desired, either by their own agents, or by admitting a deputation, to make collections and obtain donations. To this a few of the Circuits have said, No; Circuits, too, into some of which, were I admitted, I doubt not but that I could, in a few days, obtain £20 or £30, without pressing inconveniently upon any party, and without damaging one local interest. Now, in these circumstances, what shall I do? Ought I not to act the part of the importunate widow, and urge my suit till 1 succeed? The £700 MUST BE RAISED

-MUST BE RAISED SOON. The friends therefore in those Circuits who have not responded favourably, need not be surprised if they soon see me among them, to urge that in person which our printed applications have failed to secure. I repeat it, that the £700 MUST BE RAISED. I ask not one penny towards the trustees' £1,300; that is NEARLY ready now. There is not one Circuit in the Connexion but in which something can be done, in which something ought to be done, for Chester chapel. We are under the pressure of a necessity which we painfully feel, a necessity which knows no law but that of legitimate relief; and in this course we are bound to proceed till we have realized success.

Christian friends, one word more. Had we at Chester stood related to the Macedonian Christians, as we do to you, how is it probable that THEY would have treated our application? Do you think they would have said, No, WE CAN DO NOTHING FOR YOU? We have such a pressure of local difficulties, we are passing through such a great trial of personal affliction, we are plunged into such a fearful depth of poverty, that we need every penny which we possess. Rather, would they not in the great trial of their affliction, and amidst their deep personal poverty, have abounded, even to the riches of their liberality? Would they not to their power, yea, and BEYOND their power, have raised contributions for our relief? Let us go and do likewise. JOHN NELSON.

JOHN TURNER, ATTERCLIFFE, SHEFFIELD NORTH.

THE subject of this memoir was born at Edlington, in the year 1779. His parents were poor, and unable to give him the humblest education, and so irreligious as never to be known to offer one solitary prayer to God! Yet, notwithstanding those disadvantages, the Holy Spirit strove with John from a child, and convinced him of his need of religion; and although his first impressions were as transient as the dew of the morning, yet, as his boyish days passed away, they became deep and abiding; and some. times he would kneel down in the stable, and, while praying for mercy, weep very bitterly.

I have heard him relate with great power the following facts. One day when standing by the grave of a young

person, he listened very attentively to the solemn service; and, while the man of God was reading the melancholy dirge, "Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust," his soul was filled with the most alarming fears, and he sought where to weep. On another occasion, when attending some religious meetings conducted by a few poor, but earnest and holy men, who came from a neighbouring village, and who introduced Methodism into his native place, he was powerfully awakened; he saw his danger and guilt, and felt anxious to flee from the wrath to come. But through the influence of evil communications and bad companions, those holy convictions proved abortive; his good desires were often banished from his mind by being incited involuntarily to sing immoral songs. The insulted Spirit might have

left him; but God is love, and willeth not the death of a sinner. The Holy Spirit still operated on his heart, and, under his blessed influence, he was led to desire and pray that some pious master would hire him as a servant, and on his knees he vowed that he would then give himself to God.

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How singular the coincidence! gentleman who feared the Lord sent for John, and engaged him as his servant; and the sequel proves that the hand of God was in this.

The first night he spent in his new situation was made of great use to him. At the family altar, his master prayed for the blessing of God on his new servant. John felt overwhelmed with thankfulness that he had been so providentially directed. He remembered his vows, and said, "Lord, I am determined from this time to give thee my heart."

He now began to make the anxious inquiry, "What must I do to be saved?" and to seek diligently for the blessing of divine forgiveness; and his distress of soul was so great, and he spent so much time in prayer, that I have heard him say he was not worth the ground he walked upon for many weeks. Though earnest and persevering, he did not find salvation so soon as he expected; the blessing lingered long and he found it not; and this discouraged him, until one morning the sweet words were applied to his mind, "Fear not, it shall be well with thee." From this encouragement he knelt down among the horses by the manger, and prayed that salvation might come to his soul that day. But while following the plough in the field, he was tempted to think that he was beginning to be pious too soon in life, and also that he was a great sinner, and would find it difficult to obtain mercy. "Then," said he, "I am a lost man!" Thus he was brought to the brink of despair. But he ceased not to cry unto the Lord; and in an agony of prayer he dared to hope, he dared to venture his guilty soul upon Christ's atonement; and by faith he obtained an assurance of pardoning inerev. Very soon after this he was tempted to think that it was a delusion, and that he only imagined he was saved; but, by fervent supplication and continuance in prayer, he received still further and more glorious manifestations of the love of God. As an evidence of the reality of his change, one fact may be mentioned. For some time previously, John had indulged feelings of bitterness and unkindness towards a neighbour; but no sooner had the love of God been

shed abroad in his heart, than he felt he loved that man with the tenderest affection. This was a sure criterion to himself that his heart was changed; and he said to the subtle tempter, "Now, Devil! thou canst not reason me out of this, for I feel that I love God and all mankind." For a season his joy was exceedingly great. He had sweet intercourse with God; his cup of bliss was full to overflowing, so much so as to carry him beyond the control of himself. He used to relate that, on one of those happy occasions when he was ploughing, he prayed and sung, and suug and prayed, till his feelings were raised to such a height, he seemed for a while to be on the threshold of heaven; and he said, "I lost sight completely both of the plough and the horses." He had a foretaste of the joys above. "The men of grace have found glory begun below!"

About this time, he entered into the marriage-state with Sarah Hall, who became the mother of eight children. She was not a pious woman at the time of their marriage, and this circumstance led John to offer many prayers for her conversion; but four years elapsed be. fore he realized his heart's desire. The occasion which led his wife to decide is worthy of remark. John and Sarah were working together at the stone-quarry, and, after he had prayed and exhorted her to give herself to God, he said to her, "Well, Sarah, if you won't go to heaven with me, I won't go to hell with you." Mrs. Turner never could banish that saying from her mind, and it ultimately led her to decide, and she became a changed woman; they now lived together happily, and united with each other in training their family up in the fear of God.

Soon after this, our friend Turner became a local preacher, and fulfilled the responsibilities of that office during the long period of thirty-four years, with acceptance and success.

He had the charge of a class also for many years, the surviving members of which have an affectionate remembrance of his kindness and faithfulness; they loved him dearly, and they sincerely mourn the loss of so good a man.

We now come to the closing scene of our brother's life. In the autumn of 1849, it pleased God to visit this country with that fearful scourge, the cholera. The village of Attercliffe felt its ravages; many families are still mourning because their friends were torn away from them, some in a day, some in an hour. Among the victims of that fell destroyer, we

have to number John Turner, who was attacked on Wednesday, the 12th of September; and after a few hours' extreme suffering, he died and went to heaven. Many have died as suddenly, but few have died so safely.

On the Monday previous to his death, there had been two fatal cases of cholera at his neighbour's; he attended the funerals, and gave out the hymns which were sung over the children. On Tuesday night, as he returned from his work, he called at a friend's house, inquired for the son, who is a joiner, and said, "I intend him to make my coffin, and I want it to be a good one." The young man was not at home, but John met him in the street and told him he intended him to make his coffin.

After his arrival at home, he was taken dangerously ill; medical aid was soon obtained, but no human skill could save him. The doctor asked him why he had not sent for him sooner, to whom he replied, "I have complete confidence in the Good Physician, to whom I have committed both body and soul for many years, and am resigned to his blessed will."

When the symptoms appeared to assume a more alarming aspect, several of the friends were sent for to visit him. They found his poor wife and children weeping around his dying bed; they joined together in fervent prayer. God heard and answered them, and the dying saint exclaimed, in rapturous delight, "Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!'' One of the leaders said to him, "John, is all well with you?" to which question he replied, "Yes, I have a clear sky before me; thank God, I have nothing now to seek." He was then asked if he had any particular request to make before he died; to which he answered, "No, except this; I should like you to sing over me when I am gone, and I should like my friend, Joseph Batty, to go to my grave, and, when the minister has finished the funeral-service, to tell the people that John Turner was a sinner saved by the grace of God." To other friends he said, "My work is done." To his children, who were gathered around him, he said, "Now, my dear lads, you have seen how I have lived, and now you are come to see how I shall die." His beloved Sarah stood by him weeping. John saw her tears; he stretched out his open arms to embrace her, and said, "I should like to take thee with me to heaven;" but he passed away, and left his mate behind. Thus he lived, and thus he died, the saint of God indeed he was.

Many particulars might now be given,

but space will not permit. Mrs. Turner says of him, "We were married fifty years, and I never saw him drunk, never heard him swear, never knew him tell a lie, and never heard him say anything wrong to the children."

He was a poor man, and sometimes had hard struggling to pay his way honestly; he often used to mention two facts connected with his poverty. It was when flour was seven shillings per stone; he had a large family, and had to provide for them by threshing in a barn; and one day when Sarah took him his dinner, he told her how he had been praying that he might be able to buy a load of corn. She expressed her fears that they should never be so well off as that. He said, "You have no faith!" That very day he got some work by which he earned seven shillings per day, and was thus enabled to purchase three or four loads of corn for his poor family. Just at this time a gentleman whose house had been broken into, and whose property had been stolen, sent for John, and offered to give him sixpence per night to come and sleep in his house. Poor man! he told us at one of our meetings that God not only paid him well for working hard, but, when it was needed, he paid him for sleeping also.

He was a generous-hearted man, and if it had been in his power he would have dried up many a tear, and have made the heart of the orphan and the widow to sing for joy. One night, when going home from his work, he met some poor men who were singing for charity; though poor himself, his heart melted, and he gave them sixpence. Sarah complained, and thought she could have spent it on her own children. Only one week passed away, when a gentleman came to John, and said, "Is your name John Turner ?" Yes," said John. "Well," said the gentleman, "you have been a hard-working man, and you have brought up a large family; here, take this sovereign, it will help you a little." John thanked him very kindly and gave it to Sarah, saying, "It is to pay for that sixpence I gave to those poor men." That same gentleman was a clergyman who attended the prayer-meetings held at John's house, until he got his soul converted to God.

He was fond of visiting the sick. One day his mind was three times much impressed to visit a sick woman; he went, and he found her not only ill in body, but distressed in her soul also; and, by his exhortations and prayers, she found mercy.

MRS. RHODES, ATTERCLIFFE,
SHEFFIELD NORTH.

OUR sister was the eldest daughter of Benjamin and Fanny Eyre, and was born at Wortley Forge on the 11th of October, 1785. She began life under happy circumstances. Her parents being both pious, and her father holding the office of class-leader, they trained her up in the fear of the Lord; they set religion before her by example as well as by precept. From her earliest years, they regularly took her to the house of God, to the class and prayer-meetings; and these means proved effectual in convincing her of the advantages of piety, and of the evil consequences of sin.

From a child she was the subject of tender religious convictions; and under the gentle strivings of the Holy Ghost, in connexion with the human efforts employed, she was led to cherish good desires. When speaking of her earliest impressions she says, When I was about six years of age, my father took me to a prayer-meeting, where he gave an exhortation; and while he spoke of the day of judgment he said, 'Shall any of us curse the day that gave us light, or curse the parents of whom we were born?' While he uttered these words, I never shall forget my feelings—it was a nail in a sure place."

It is sad to relate that those favourable opportunities were abused, and those gracious impressions trifled with; and, like the fair bloom of spring, her first good desires soon withered, drooped, and died. She says, "Notwithstanding my privileges, I was undecided, and for years led a rebellious life. I was led captive by the tempter; I sinned against the clearest light, and dared the Almighty to send me to the place I deserved."

At the age of sixteen she went out to service to a situation in Barnsley, where she again became the subject of fresh convictions, which were so powerful that she could find no rest, either by night or by day. The minister then stationed

in Barnsley was made very useful to her; and she got so much good under his earnest ministry that, like the servantmaid mentioned in Scripture, she would say when she met him, "This man is the servant of the Most High God, who shows unto us the way of salvation." The situation she held was a most unfortunate one for a person wishing to be religious. Those about her had no fear of God before them. One day, when she said to the gardener that she should like to go to heaven, he made sport of her; and her mistress, who was accustomed to break her jests on the Bible, forbade her attending any place of worship. The poor persecuted girl thought it would be the safest for her to return home; and she did so. Afterwards, her parents obtained a situation for her in a pious family in Sheffield, where she enjoyed many privileges, and became more in earnest about her salvation; and although the fact is not stated, we think there is sufficient data to indicate that this was the time of her conversion to God. She united with the Church, and lived a consistent life for some years.

She now entered into the married state with Joseph Rhodes, an unconverted man; and it is matter of deep regret that her new condition in life did not promote her piety, but had the opposite effect. She says in her diary, "Having failed to observe the divine command in respect to my marriage, I fell from grace, and sank so deeply into sin as even to take God's name in vain. For two years I lived in a backsliding state.”

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What a mercy she was not called to the bar of God during the time of her apostacy! Those two years were the most unhappy years of her life. Blessed be God! she was again restored to the divine favour by means of the preaching of the gospel, and the pious efforts of Christian friends. The account of her restoration will be best given in her own language. pious woman who manifested a great concern in my salvation was studiously avoided by me, until one day, when I was obliged to go to her house on business. As soon as I called, she began to make inquiries about my parents, and I told her that my father had been in the way to heaven for more than thirty years, and that my mother, after serving God with stedfastness for upwards of thirty years, died a happy death. She replied, 'What a pity it will be if you do not go to heaven!' The expression went to my heart, and I resolved that I would attend the house of God on the next Sabbath. Oh, how glad I felt when that Sabbath

came! And with a thankful heart I went to the chapel; but I had so strong a sense of my guilt that it made me greatly ashamed of myself, and I could not look at anyone who knew me. The preacher was a holy man of God; and surely God himself had directed his servant to an appropriate text; the words were, 'Return, O backsliding children, saith the Lord.' I was glad to have another offer of mercy to my poor soul. I went to the prayer-meeting, I gave my soul to the Lord, and, blessed be his holy name! he forgave me all my sins, and I never afterwards lost the blessing."

Our sister's obligations to God were great; she felt them strongly. She says, "When I think of the goodness of God, I see that his mercies have been more than the hairs of my head. I am a brand plucked out of the fire; God never passed by one, or he had passed by me." She had her share of affliction and trouble, but she was enabled to exemplify the graces of patience and resignation; her own statements show this.

She says:

"I wish to be resigned to whatever the Lord wills." "God does all things well." "This day has been a day of troubles, but the Lord keeps my head above the waters." "I have seen a time when I had to trust the Lord for the bread that perisheth; but even then the Lord gave me a double portion of his spirit, and I had a peace which I never shall forget." "To-day I have followed my dear child to the grave, the seventh child I have lost, yet I do not sorrow as those without hope." "God's will be done."

Mrs. Rhodes was a genuine Methodist, and she appreciated the means peculiar to Methodism. In addition to her classmeeting, she, with several other pious women, formed a private band meeting; and, after attending it for six years, she says, "We had many refreshing seasons. It was a brook in the wilderness; we wept and rejoiced together, and the Lord was with us." She had a deep veneration for the sacrament of the Lord's Supper. On several occasions when going to the Lord's table, she writes in the following strain: "I am going to receive the bread and wine in token of my Lord's death; may I not receive it as a form, but as the dying command of my Lord; in heaven I shall drink and thirst no more."

Her views of divine truth and of the glorious plan of mercy were clear and evangelical; she disclaimed every other ground of hope and consolation but that which sustained the venerable founder of Methodism on his death-bed:

I the chief of sinners am,
But Jesus died for me!

She writes, "I love Christ because he gave himself a ransom for me. I put my trust in the bleeding Saviour. My confidence is in Christ alone. Christ is my only hope and plea; he is my 'high tower,' my refuge and my Saviour; his merits are like rivers in a dry place, like the shadow of a great rock in a weary land.' At times I feel that the storms of life beat high and threaten to sink my feeble bark; but even then I feel Christ to be my comfort and my joy."

The manner in which she annually renewed her covenant with God was solemn and of great use to her. On one occasion, at the beginning of the new year, she says, "Last night I renewed my covenant with the Lord and his people; it was a good time. I am another year nearer to my father's house. God is witness how solemnly I gave myself, my husband, and my children to him. May he accept the sacrifice, more should he have if I had more."

She had elevated views and high aims in respect to Christian experience. The following expressions, which are extracted from her diary, indicate this: "I would, O Lord! be thine, and thine alone. Oh that God would take up his constant abode and dwell in my soul ! I long to keep close to the bleeding side of Jesus, I love to dwell within his arms. It is now some years since the Lord sanctified my soul, and I still find that 'the path of the just is as the shining light, shining brighter and brighter to the perfect day." Oh for a sinking into the ocean of divine love! Praise the Lord for a free and full salvation! Hallelujah!"

We now draw near to the closing moments of our sister's life. Three weeks before she died she attended the lovefeast; and, being requested to speak, she said, "I shall soon have done, I shall not be long before I am at home."

A few days before her death several friends visited her, to whom she said, "I shall soon be

Far from a world of grief and sin,
With God eternally shut in.

I have been thinking a deal about meeting Hannah Hobson, one of my old bandmates, in heaven." And to another friend she said, "I have not one doubt." Thus, after relying on the Atonement for many years, she found it sufficient for her in the hour of nature's dissolution; and, in the 64th year of her age, her happy spirit took its flight to the realms of immortality and bliss.

December 11th, 1851.

JOHN POXON.