near relatives. The chapel, including the galleries, was crowded with a deeply-interested congregation, many of the ladies being attired in mourning, and at times being affected to tears. The touching and beautiful Scriptural burial service in common use amongst Dissenters was read by the Rev. J. Taylor, the superintendent minister, in a very impressive manner; after which the rev. gentleman addressed the assembly briefly, as follows:

"My beloved friends,-A very unexpected event has summoned us together this day, and stricken our hearts with grief. In this solemn assembly what a painful evidence we have of the mutability of earthly things; and how distinctly and how emphatically is Divine Providence reading us a solemn and momentous truth in this ceremonial, that' man that is born of a woman hath but a short time to live; he fleeth as a shadow, and continueth not.' By the sudden and unlooked-for decease of our truly estimable brother, Mr. Bradley, a change has taken place in our social and domestic, as well as in our religious relations, which few, if any of us, have as yet been able to realize. A few days ago, and we had in our midst the presence of an active and intelligent influence, soft and gentle, and unobtrusive as the light, making us conscious-pleasantly conscious of its presence. To-day we gather around the lifeless remains of him from whom that influence radiated. He is gone, but we can scarcely realize the conviction. His voice seems still to be vibrating on our ears, the image of his form and features are before us in the distinctest outline, and as in imagination we feel his friendly greeting, the illusion seems almost perfect. But, beloved friends, it is an illusion, for he is gone; and today we sorrow because we shall see his face no more. Our sorrow, however, blessed be God, is not unmitigated nor unmingled; we sor→ row not as those without hope; we have hope that in the resurrection we shall see him again. We have rejoicings in the assurance that our temporary loss is his infinite gain;

and in the complex character of our emotions, at the present moment, we distinctly recognize the twofold nature of man, the material and the spiritual. Over the material-the body returning to its primitive elements we weep and mourn; but over the spiritual-the soul, rising to its high and glorious destiny-we rejoice. The body returns to the dust as it was, but the spirit to God who gave it. There is also a sense in which our departed brother is still present, even in reference to this world; for goodness is imperishable, and kindness is self-propagating; and though he is dead, he lives. He lives in our memories, fragrant with gratitude; and he lives, too, in our institutions, some of which institutions constitute the very glory of our civilization and the bulwarks of our freedom. He lives in our affec tions, cherished by a thousand fond, tender, and endearing associations; and in some his actions are reproduced in our characters, for even in reference to some who are here present this morning, who in early life received from him counsel, instruction, and fostering care, his influence will be perpetuated through the interminable successions of futurity. It is not our intention now to pronounce an elaborate eulogium on the character of the departed, but the simplest justice requires us to say that he was a man of a high tone of Christian principle. We expect not from any man absolute perfection, and we expect not for any man unqualified approbation. Wise men may err, and good men may make mistakes; but, measured by the ordinary standard of human attainments and of human excellence, we shall all very readily admit that our departed brother was not an ordinary man. His intellectual powers had been cultured, and his mind stored with varied information, far above the average of men whose minds are absorbed with the perplexing anxieties of business. constitution, by principle, and by habit, he had strong fundamental sympathy with the masses, and the benevolence of his heart led him on all fitting occasions to support with

By

liberality those enterprises which were intended for their improvement and amelioration. He was not a negative character. His influence

was positive. He was a man who formed and cherished convictions, and had the honesty and courage to stand by them. In commercial circles his integrity was unquestioned and his honour unstained. In his political and municipal life, friends well know how diligently he laboured, and how cheerfully he sacrificed both his time and means for what he conceived to be the welfare and good of the public; while those who have been most pertinaciously opposed to his theories have freely admitted his sincerity and straightforwardness. He has been elevated to the highest civic position to which his townsmen could raise him; and only recently he occupied a prominent position as the supporter of the principles he had uniformly maintained through life. We will not intrude into the privacy of domestic life: suffice it to say he has left a large, beloved, and interesting family, and to them he has bequeathed a legacy-an imperishable legacy in a noble and consistent example. From early childhood he has been associated with this sanctuary, and by his exemplary and regular attendance, by his counsels in times of perplexity, and by his contributions on all occasions, he proved himself a friend; and though he was not a member of this church in the ordinary sense of membership, not having been a class-member, yet he attended all the ordinances of the church, and from frequent personal interviews, we are satisfied that he had a deep sympathy with spiritual things, and an experimental acquaintance with religious truththat through faith in the atonement he was a member of Christ's mystical body. By his decease we, as a church, have lost a princely friend, and we can only pray that in the place of the father there may rise up the children, and that the family may endeavour to show their high appreciation of his distinguished worth, by a sedulous and diligent emulation of his virtues." The rev. gentleman closed his remarks with

an earnest appeal to the assembly to improve the solemn event, and prayed that the blessing of the Almighty might rest upon the bereaved and sorrowing widow and family.

A few verses of the beautiful and appropriate hymn,

"Hear what the voice from heaven proclaims

For all the pious dead,"

were then sung; after which the Rev. J. Taylor offered up prayer, and brought the service to a conclusion.

The coffin was then replaced in the hearse, which, followed by the mourning coaches, proceeded along Parliament Street and Derby Road to the General Cemetery. A procession of nearly 150 gentlemen walked in the rear of the vehicles, amongst whom we noticed the following:-T. Ball, Esq. (Mayor); W. Enfield, Esq. (Town-clerk); Aldermen Fowler, Heymann, Knight, Vickers, and Wright; Councillors Bowers, Dickinson, Keely, Starey, Thackeray, Dr. Robertson, and Simpson; the Revs. H. Hunter and J. B. Armstrong; Dr. Higginbottom, Mr. Jacobsen, Mr. Liepmann, Mr. John Patterson, Mr. J. Patterson, jun., Mr. W. Vickers, jun., Mr. J. F. Bishop, Mr. T. Manlove, Mr. H. Malet, Mr. E. Gripper, Mr. W. Whitehead, Mr. Boyce, Mr. Douglas, Mr. R. Mellors, Mr. S. Robinson, Mr. W. Hill, Mr. J. S. Gilpin, Mr. J. S. Wells, Mr. T. Bayley, Captain H. Smith, Mr. J. H. Wright, and many others. The route was lined with spectators, and on arriving at the cemetery a very numerous assembly had gathered in the vicinity of the vault. The mourners having alighted and walked to the grave, a short prayer was offered by the Rev. J. Taylor, and the ceremony terminated. The coffin plate bore the simple inscription :-"John Bradley, died 31st May, 1866. Aged sixtyfour years."-Extracted.

The loss of Mr. Bradley will be long felt, not only by the members of his numerous family, and a wide circle of friends, but by the public and the Christian Church. It was meet that the members of the corporation should testify their estimate of

his worth, and their profound respect for his memory in the way they did, and equally so that the congregation in Parliament Street chapel should have put on mourning on the solemn occasion when the superintendent minister improved his death. May God support and comfort the bereaved, and may he raise up others to supply his place!-ED.

MRS. JOSHUA CROSLAND,

PADDOCK.

DIED, June 12th, 1866, in the sixtyseventh year of her age, Mrs. Elizabeth Crosland, relict of Joshua Crosland, Esq., of Paddock. Our esteemed sister was well known by a large number of ministers and friends as an ardent lover of our Connexion, and for many years a useful member in the Huddersfield Circuit. Her interest in the com. fort of the ministers and their families was proverbial, and her attendance at the ordinances exemplary. She was, in truth, a Christian helpmeet for her worthy husband, who well served his generation; and the excellences of her life make precious her memory to a large circle of surviving friends. For some years past Mrs. Crosland's health has been slowly, though surely declining; depriving her of public and social means of grace, and compelling her to live almost in seclusion. Still, God's presence and love cheered her heart; her faith in him failed not, and occasional ministerial visits were highly valued and greatly blessed. Repeated premonitions of the great change have been mercifully sent within the past twelve months, which, by grace, were both understood and sanctified. final one came a few days before the late Conference; and when I left her, on the very eve of my departure to it, I felt assured that I should see her face no more. Nor did I; for in a day or two a telegram came to her son-in-law, Mr. Lumby (then at Conference), announcing her peaceful departure to everlasting rest. It was sweet, beyond description, to hold fellowship with her when on the verge of eternity; and blessed, beyond all conception, must be her inheritance

now.

The

Reader! while I was away, at Conference, THREE MEMBERS in this circuit were called home to heaven; before Conference comes again, how many

others will have gone to their final account! You may go-I may goothers who look as likely as we to stay will surely go. May all who thus depart be with Christ, which is far better. C. D. W.

Huddersfield, July.

ALEXANDER TURNER.

GORNAL WOOD, DUDLEY.

IN the political world some men live unknown and die unwept; the remembrance of them perishes almost at the grave-side. The dying of other men constitutes the bereavement of a whole nation. So is it in the Church. When the

lingerer" is laid low, few feel a loss; whereas modern Israel mourneth many days when the giants of God are struck down. Perhaps every member of the Gornal Wood society felt personally bereaved when good brother Turner went home to his rest. He was a giant-not in body, or intellect, or position, but in heart. He was one of those fine exemplars of "early Methodism' who, alas, are becoming scarce; a man whose strong though unobtrusive piety won for him an esteem amounting almost to veneration. The people's estimate of our lost friend is well uttered by the fact, that some twenty-five of them (some of the poorest) are taking this year's Magazine, that they may have, in a record of his worth, some sort of substitute for the visible light of his holiness.

His

Our departed brother was born at Gornal Wood in the year 1800. early years were marked by but little worthy of record. In his career was the old story repeated of the wilfulness of boyhood developing into profligacy as life advances. The most notable thing connected with his childhood was the influence and example of his mother. She only of her household served God; but her piety was such as led her to pray often with her children, and to instruct them in the truths of the Gospel. To his dying day our brother was wont to speak with most affectionate gratitude of his mother's counsel, as tending to check his sinfulness, and as assisting at his conversion. She, however, was called to her reward when he was only eleven years of age; and losing her, he lost his only wholesome restraint. So that, when even home influences were combined with companionships and inclination, there is little wonder that he was led,

every year, further from God and holiness. From the death of his mother until his marriage in early manhood was the darkest period of his life. He knew "the right," but did wrong: he felt convictions, but resisted them; and his mother's words, though rooted deeply within him, were like the grain which throughout winter lies dormant beneath a frozen soil.

Our departed friend was converted at the age of twenty-six. The immediate cause of his turning to God is not known, but the turning itself was much assisted by the following circumstance. He and our good friend Mr. Wasdell, of Gornal Wood, had been boon companions in sin. After the marriage of the former, however, they were estranged. But on a certain Sunday morning they accidentally met.

Both

were under deep convictions of sin, and, as by mutual consent, they opened their minds to each other as in former years. The torch of their friendship was re-lighted at a purer fire; and there and then a compact was made between them that, as they had been friends in sin, so would they be in piety. Death has at last dissolved that covenant of theirs, but, during the forty years of its continuance, it often secured to each from the other reproof, and consolation, and stimulus, which were eminently helpful to both. From that Sabbath our friend's heart was fixed to be on the Lord's side, but for weeks after he bore his burden of guilt. Preachings, prayer-meetings, and struggling pleadings, with brother Wasdell in the fields only increased his misery, until at last he could scarcely eat, or work, or sleep, for, to use his own words, "Hell seemed to move to meet him." He was at that time employed in sinking a pit-shaft at the Wren's Nest a very romantic locality near Dudley. In this employment he had to work and rest during every alternate three hours, and he was wont to spend much of this leisure in solitary prayer for merey, among the rocks and in the woods. Many times he might have been found, like Jacob of old, wrestling at dead of night with the Divine One, for the assurance of pardon. And it was in one of these midnight vigils that he was given to realize a Divine presence in the solitary place, a Divine light in the darkness, and a Saviour's hand lifting the load from his heart.

Any one of experience in the life of

God will easily conceive the kind and quality of piety which followed a penitence so protracted and profound. We guard most jealously what we obtain most hardly. So was it with the subject of this sketch. Seeking "a whole" religion, he yielded an entire heart. To honour God became the alpha and omega of his life-purposes. A detailed history of his religious career cannot be given in this brief memoir; but we would, as an example to the living, rather than in laudation of the dead, at least enumerate the good man's labours of love. His works were in the capacity of prayer-leader and in the Sabbathschool, as a visitor of the sick, and afterwards as leader of an important class. Were these spheres of toil ordinary and unimportant? Truly some men move in them as though they were. But with our brother no work for Christ was commonplace; indeed, works that are most lightly esteemed were dignified by his zeal, and by the good they achieved. Thus employed, he walked from year to year the path of the just. "The life" of the prayer-meeting, beloved by his members, and hailed in the abode of sorrow, he, like his Master, went about doing good; and verily he did it "with his might.' Friend Turner was also "mighty in the Scriptures." He was

one of those who hide the whole Book in their hearts;" that is, he could at once name the chapter and verse of almost any proposed text. Oh, that there were more of those who are so wealthy in Wisdom's words. No wonder that this Christian was so wise in counsel, mighty in reproof, and apt in consolation, when he carried at his tongue's end the entire Word of God.

For nineteen years after his conversion, brother Turner continued his work for God, with unremitting zeal. Then there came over the tenor of his life a great change. It began to be seen that the Lord had other witness for him to bear than that of Christian labour. He had wrought; he was now to suffer. A constitutional tendency to asthma, accelerated in its progress by continually working in water, gradually compelled him to relinquish his employment. In 1845 (twenty years before his death) he did his last work for an earthly employer. For his heavenly Master he continued a painful service for some years after; but the development of his disease at length

cut him off from the means of grace, and imprisoned him at home. Through the long years of suffering which followed he has often been seen so struggling for breath, that those who saw him expected every moment to be his last. But his religion changed not-saving to brighten in beauty. What had sustained him in the field, failed him not in the furnace. A hundred of his testimonies might be written-and no word of a man so afflicted is unimportant but the two utterances found most frequently on his lips form the key to all he said; they were these: "None of these things move me," and "I am still found on the rock." The firmness and resignation of this good man appear all the brighter when it is considered how deep a poverty his twenty years' affliction added to its own painfulness. But not only did he endure the hardness of poverty as a good soldier, but insisted on continuing the payment of his class-money to the last. How worthy such an example! How different from the conduct of many who, in temporary embarrassment, curtail first their pecuniary help to the cause of Christ. And how fitting for all the prayer, "Let this man's mantle rest on me."

The most remarkable incident of our lost friend's life has yet to be told. It is this. In 1859 (about six years prior to his death), his health suddenly, without any apparent cause, and to the great surprise of all who knew him, was so far recovered that he resumed his place in all the spheres of his work, and devoted himself more vigorously than ever to honour God. Three years after, while acting as chairman of a tea-meeting, he revealed to the friends the solemn secret of this change. It appeared that in 1859 the Rev. W. Willan preached a "club sermon "" at Gornal Wood, and brother Turner, yearning to hear an old friend, dragged himself painfully to the house of God. He was much too soon, and while sitting pondering over the joy and toil of bygone years, he, like Hezekiah, turned his face to the wall, and covenanted with God that, if he would "strengthen his clay," his strength should be spent in the Saviour's cause. A gracious God heard his prayer and raised him; and a faithful servant remembered the vows that were on him, and made it his meat and drink to work for Jesus. Surely an answer to prayer more direct, better

authenticated, and more encouraging than this can seldom be found.

This respite of our friend's life continued until 1865, when his affliction returned, and it became evident that his race was nearly finished. No one understood this better than himself. He was satisfied with his life, and contented that death was at hand. And now, as was to be expected, his holiness shone brighter than ever. All who approached him heard him commend his Master, and every breath was employed in testifying to the all-sufficiency of God. Of earthly things, he said, "I am sinking into the grave;" of heavenly,

"Not a cloud doth arise to darken the skies,

Or hide for one moment my Lord from my eyes.'

But why multiply these death-bed words of victory? It is enough to say that he ended his life as such holy lives do ever end-in calm triumphant reliance on the Saviour's blood. Even when speech failed him, he was ready with some sign that all was right within, and on October 5th, 1855, passed peacefully away to his heavenly home.

Thus lived and died Alexander Turner-an old-fashioned Methodist, a hard worker, a patient sufferer, an exulting conqueror. May an everincreasing army of such men follow in his steps! Amen.

J. K. JACKSON,

JOHN ELLIS, OF HULL THERE is something very solemn and impressive in death-the severing of tender domestic ties, the disruption of sacred friendships, the separation from delightful service with loved ones in the church, and the entering into a state of untried being. We have had our solemn impressions renewed again and again of late in the mortalities which have taken place in the bosom of our church, and within the circleof our relations and friends.

But we refer more particularly now to the character of one of our officials, who has recently finished his probation, and entered upon his reward. Our late brother, John Ellis, was born at Fulbeck, in Lincolnshire, on the 6th of July, 1790. His parents were regular in their attendance at the Established Church, and, though not decidedly pious, yet bore a strictly moral character. Religion was at that