Cheering Words on Dying Beds. GOOD OLD SAMUEL TURNER, OF SUNDERLAND, 18 GONE HOME. WE are indebted to the covers of the Gospel Standard for the following interesting account of the departure of the above venerable servant of Jesus Christ. Died, "On May 10th, 1854, at Sunderland, aged 76, Samuel Turner, miníster of the gospel. Mr. Turner was born in London, and was called to a knowledge of himself as a sinner, and the Lord Jesus Christ as a Saviour, under that unequalled minister of Christ in modern times, the late William Huntington, whom he dearly loved. It appears from Mr. T.'s statements to many of his friends, that he was brought to know the Lord in his youth, and by the Holy Spirit was separated to the work of the ministry about fifty years ago. He was made instrumental to the deliverance of many poor, sin-burdened, law-condemned souls; and as an experimental minister in the sweetness of the love of Christ, the condemnation of the law, the temptations of satan, the deceitfulness of the heart, and the quickening, convincing, enlightening, pardoning, justifying, sanctifying, comforting, and remembrancing operations of the Holy Ghost, he had few equals. He was a diligent student of God's most holy word; and his memory in the precious word failed him very little up to his death, although he lived to the advanced age of 76 years. He was a very temperate person, and a lover of hospitality, and a devout, affectionate, and stedfast friend of the doctrines of the everlasting gospel, the unction of which he often experienced, and others through him as the instrument. He was no man-pleaser, nor perverter of the word of God; no grace and works mixer, nor creature-exalter at the expense of truth. Salvation by grace alone, through our Lord Jesus Christ, by the ministration of the Holy Ghost, was his constant topic, in the pulpit, and out of it; for he knew what an extensive debtor he was to rich, free, and sovereign grace. He has left many writings behind him which prove his diligence in, and love of, the covenant of grace. In the beginning of his last affliction he was quite in the dark as to its termination; but, as it advanced, he inclined to think that it would terminate in his death Nevertheless, he expressed a willingness to acquiesce in his dear Lord's way, whether to die or to live longer. In a conversation which he lately had with one of his deacons, he said, 'I feel my bodily strength gradually failing; and for some time death and I have been walking arm in arm. Sometimes we are very agreeable, and sometimes we quarrel; but yet I do hope the Lord will support me to the end, and that I shall, like Samson, slay more at my death than I have done all my lifetime; and many I shall never know of until I meet them in glory.' The last text which he preached from was Psa. xxv. 13, His soul shall dwell at ease, and his seed shall inherit the earth.' He was kept very comfortable in his soul during his affliction, and had not, up to the day previous to his death, suffered very severely in his body. But he was very ill the day before he died, yet at night he seemed to rest tolerably well. On the morning of Wednesday, the day on which he died, he evinced great weakness, when his daughter, who was waiting upon him, gave him some beef tea. But as soon as he got it, he felt something rise in his chest, which nearly suffocated him. After struggling for breath for some time, he at length was enabled to ask for the hymn-book, and quoted the first line of one of Hart's: "Bless the Lord, my soul, and raise A glad and grateful song To my dear Redeemer's praise, For I to him belong." "His daughter read the whole of the hymn to him, and asked him if he felt it comfortable. 'O yes, (he replied) I have been a highly-favored creature all my life, surrounded with loving-kindnesses and tender mercies. I have had sweet meditation on the covenant characters of my precious Christ, and of the Lord's gracious leadings of me in the wilderness; but the ingratitude and want of love for such goodness and mercy manifested to me !' A few hours before he died, he asked the doctor if he did not think his end was near. The doctor said it was. Then, (he replied), I may just say now, what I wrote to a friend nearly sixty years ago, in The First Mite to the Treasury,' (referring to a valuable work he has written), that my first prayer was, 'God be merciful to me a sinner,' and now it is about to be fulfilled.' He then quoted 1 Cor. ii. 9, and shortly afterwards said, 'But I may say with the poet,' "Lord, it is my chief complaint, O for grace to love thee more!" "Then, again, he commented on the Lord's goodness and kindness to him, and deplored his backslidings from him and ingratitude too, and added, "Yet heaven and earth are not firmer than God's plan of salvation by Jesus Christ.' After slumbering a little, one of the deacons of the church came in and enquired if he was comfortable in his mind. Le replied, O yes, I have solid peace and comfort, and have been highly favored during my affliction, in four things: 1st, My head has been kept quite clear and free from pain; 2ndly, I have suffered comparatively little pain; 3rdly, The Lord has favoured me with sweet meditations on the covenant of grace; 4thly, If possible, I am more confirmed in the truth of the precious doctrines of the everlasting gospel.' After slumbering a little, he was aroused by excruciating pain; and, putting his hands together, he said, with great earnestness and much fervor, "Lord, have mercy upon me !-O Lord, relieve me!' After a short time, he attempted to quote a hymn, 404th of his own Selection; but could only articulate, "And when our life's last hour is come;" the following lines of which read, "Let us but die as in thy sight, And death shall banish with delight," which were kindly read to him; and shortly after he fell asleep in Jesus, on the 10th of May, 1854, in his own house, in Nile Street, Sunderland, in the county of Durham. 'Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord!" " A WORD OF COMFORT FOR THE TRUE CHRISTIAN TO STRENGTHEN FAITH AND ENCOURAGE HOPE IN GOD. SOME doubts about future events will often arise in our minds, and tormenting fears sometimes prevail. but they should be resolutely checked with this thought, "My times are in God's hands, and he careth for me." Do you fear any painful event? Think with yourselves, Is this an affair in which God will not choose for me? or is it an affair in which he will choose otherwise than well? Can infinite wisdom be mistaken? Can perfect goodness intend me evil? Have I left my eternal interests with God, and can I not trust him with those of time? Blush, O my soul, at such a shameful inconsistency. Remember that anxiety is vain and fruitless; that there cannot be greater folly than to anticipate afflictions, and bring the evil of the morrow upon the day, when that of the day is sufficient for all the strength and patience bestowed upon us by the Holy Spirit. Remember likewise, that it is impossible for us, in many cases, to pronounce whether any event or circumstance will be good or bad in its ultimate tendency. If it be of God's choosing, we may be sure it will be good. Let us not then admit a thought of anxiety; but "wait on the Lord; be of good courage, and he will strengthen our hearts." In order to support a patient, composed, cheerful spirit, let us live near to God, by the daily exercise of fervent prayer; and especially pray that he would "fulfil in us all the good pleasure of his goodness, and the work of faith with power," "and help and cure the remainder of unbelief, which is the foundation of all our sorrows, fears, and anxiety." I have seemed to see a need of every thing God gives me, and want nothing that he denies me. There is no dispensation, though afflictive, but either in it, or after it, the Comforter teaches me I could not have done without it. Whether it be taken from me, or not given to me, sooner or later God quiets me in himself without it. I cast all my concerns on the Lord, and live securely on the care and wisdom of my heavenly Father. My ways are in a sense hedged up with thorns, and grow darker and darker daily; but yet I distrust not my good God in the least, and live more quietly in the absence of all by faith, than I should do, I am persuaded, If I possessed them all. I think the Lord deals kindly with me to make me believe for my mercies before I have them. The less reason hath to work on, the more freely faith casts itself on the faithfulness of God. I find that while faith is steady, nothing can disquiet me; and when faith totters, nothing can establish me. If I tumble out amongst means and creatures, I am presently lost, and can come to no end; but if I receive help from above, to stay myself on God, and leave him to work in his own way and time, I am at rest, and can sit down and sleep in a promise, when a thousand rise up against me: therefore my way is not to cast beforehand, but to work with God by the day, "Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." I find so much to do continually with my calling and my heart, that I have no time to puzzle myself with peradventures and futurities. Faith lies at anchor in the midst of the waves, and believes the accomplishment of the promises through all these overturning confusions, and seeming impossibilities. Upon this God do 1 live, who is our God for ever, and will be our Guide unto death. Methinks I lie becalmed in his bosom; as Luther, in such a case, “I am not much concerned, let Christ see to it; faithful is He that hath promised, who also will do it." Many things more I might say; but enough, oh brother! may the Lord draw thee close to himself; and then a little of the creature will go a great away. Maintain a secret communion with God, and you need fear nothing. Lay up all your good in God, so as to be able to overbalance the sweetness and bitterness of all creatures. Spend no time anxiously in forehand contrivances for this world; they will never succeed; God will turn his dispensations another way. Self-contrivances are the effects of unbelief. I can speak by experience; would men spend those hours they run out in plots and contrivances, in communion with God, and leave all to Him by believing, they would have more peace and comfort. All our fresh springs are in Him. "Comfort take, then, child of sorrow, All is ordered well for thee; 'As thy days thy strength shall be."" JOHN BUNYAN'S ARREST AND IMPRISONMENT FOR PREACHING THE GOSPEL. The Relation of my Imprisonment, in the month of November, 1660, when, by the good hand of my God, I had for five or six years together, without any great interruption, freely preached the blessed Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ: and had also, through his blessed grace, some encouragement by his blessing thereupon. The devil, that old enemy of man's salvation, took the opportunity to inflame the hearts of his vassals against me, insomuch that the last I was laid out for by warrant of a Justice, and was taken and committed to prison. The relation thereof is as follows: UPON the 12th of this instant November, 1660, I was desired by some of the friends in the country to come to preach at Samsell, by Harlington, in Bedfordshire. To whom I made a promise, if the Lord permitted, to be with them on the time aforesaid. The justice hearing thereof, (whose name is Mr. Francis Wingate,) forthwith issued out his warrant to take me, and bring me before him, and in the mean time to keep a very strong watch about the house where the meeting should be kept, as if we that were to meet together in that place did intend to do some fearful business, to the destruction of the country; when, alas! the constable, when he came in, found us only with our Bibles in our hands, ready to speak and hear the word of God; for we were just about to begin our exercise. Nay, we had begun in prayer for the blessing of God upon our opportunity, intending to have preached the word of the Lord unto them there present. But the constable coming in prevented us; so that I was taken and forced to depart the room. But had I been minded to have played the coward, I could have escaped, and kept out of his hands: for when I was come to my friend's house, there was a whispering that that day I should be taken, for there was a warrant out to take me; which, when my friend heard, he being somewhat timorous, questioned whether we had best have our meeting or not, and whether it might |