a good singer, and often have the sweet notes of his voice charmed me. This love for singing continued till death. He was found in the school, then in the house of God, and now he is singing around the throne of God, in sweeter and loftier strains than mortals can reach, the praises of God. From his connexion with our Sabbath school at Lindley, he became attached to our chapel there. His attachment grew with his growth, and strengthened with his riper years. He seemed to identify the chapel as a part of himself, as something essential to his very existence. These feelings of attachment to God's house were produced in part by the Sabbath school; and in after life he sat in that sanctuary listening to the word of life, and often weeping with joy.

From earliest life he was the subject of serious impressions. The Spirit of God worked upon his young mind. From a statement which he has made, it appears that a variety of circumstances combined to lead him to give his heart to God. On one occasion, his brother John and another young person were sleeping together; they began to talk of religion and other serious matters; George, who slept in the same room, was listening to the conversation of these two youths, and the solemn word Eternity arrested his attention. ETERNITY, ETERNITY!" repeated he to himself," what does it mean? what is ETERNITY?" He could not understand it; he thought of it, pondered it over in his mind, and it produced a very deep impression. It fastened upon his deathless soul; he could not shake it off.

When George was about eight or nine years of age, the late Rev. W. Milner, a young man of exemplary piety and devotedness, but whose career of labour and usefulness was very short, was appointed to the Huddersfield Circuit. His residence was at Lindley. This holy minister of God collected together a number of the boys belonging to the school, for the purpose of instructing them in the principles of the gospel of Christ, praying with them and for them. George was one of these boys. Mr. Milner perceiving him to be very thoughtful, that there was the promise of some future good in him, noticed him a little more than the other boys, and took him to one of our class meetings. This, under God, was the means of strengthening and perpetuating the impressions already made upon his young mind. It would seem, however, that he did not continue to attend these meetings after Mr. Milner left Lindley, for three years.

When he was about twelve years of age, a revival of religion took place at Lindley, when many young people were brought under serious impressions. A friend, seeing the seriousness of George and feeling much concerned for his spiritual welfare, took him by the hand, sympathised with him, and urged him by every possible motive to continue his attendance at the class meetings. He did so, and in this way he was preserved from being carried away by the example and persuasions of the young people who during the revival had been his companions, but proved unfaithful. I find from a communication from Mr. A. Pilling, now of Bolton, who was for some years the personal friend and companion of the subject of this memoir, that after the revival alluded to, some time between the eleventh and fourteenth years of his age, he ceased to meet in class; but the impressions made upon his mind were firm and strong He could not be satisfied till he returned again to the Shepherd and Bishop of souls.

When about fourteen years of age, I find him a member of society. He had returned again to the bosom of the church, and continued one of its firmest, steadiest friends till the day of his death. George was one of those who are gradually and gently drawn. It was not the awful, terrible thunder of God's wrath that alarmed him, but the "still, small voice."-The gentle, but spiritual and Divine illumination of the soul, like the sun rising in the morning, gradually clearing away the mists and vapours from the mountain tops, when he rises in his glory. Our young friend could not refer to any particular time or place, when or where he was made the subject of a Divine change; but he knew he was changed, though the manner of it he could not distinctly describe. "I was not," said he, "driven by terror, but drawn by love." His conversion was sound and clear. This was seen in his whole deportment; it shone through all his actions. The truth of God shone brightly in his soul, and he walked in the light of God's countenance. He became a decided follower of the Lord Jesus, and was not ashamed to avow this to his friends, to the world; and from this period to his death, he maintained a steady, consistent

course.

At this early period of his life he began to be useful in the Church, There was much of bold and manly courage about him; he neither feared the frowns nor coveted the smiles of men. He met with much ridicule and scorn, but he stood firm and unmoved. It is delightful to trace his history, and see him at the age of fourteen or fifteen coming out with a firmness that would have done honour to grey hairs. He threw his whole soul into the cause of God, and showed to the world whose servant he was. For some years there were in his character the fruits of an agency that was not human, but divinehe bore temptation and persecution with a courage beyond his years. From the period of his first connecting himself with the Church of God, he became useful in the school and society. At the age of seventeen he was called by the Church to take charge of a class; he did so with much reluctance, but was afterwards compelled to give it up in consequence of the state of his health. His constitution appears to have been timid, very frail, and could not bear much. Brother A. Pilling and our young friend commenced a private meeting for the purposes of prayer and explaining the holy Scriptures; this meeting was held in his father's dry house. "I shall never forget," says his friend Pilling, "the happy seasons we have had alone in that dry house." This meeting was commenced expressly for their own religious improvement; they preached to each other in their own way, and sang and prayed. O! what peace and joy have often filled their souls! That dry house was often the scene of much hallowed excitement to those youths. George took great delight in these meetings; they strengthened his faith, drew out his talents, and prepared him for more extensive usefulness.

In 1839, when he was about eighteen years of age, he was called by the Church to go into the circuit to preach the gospel; but there was a great struggle-deep, mental emotion-before he would be prevailed upon to take up his cross; he had obeyed the call of the Church in other matters, delighted to do what he could, cheerfully ran on errands of mercy, his whole soul fired with holy zeal; but this seemed too much for him, he shrank from it for a season, and it was with the

greatest difficulty he could be prevailed upon to make the attempt. His friends urged him again and again; the struggle in his breast became more severe, it almost overwhelmed him. At last he yielded, and was received on the plan as a local preacher. In every part of the circuit his services were acceptable, and although he formed such a low estimate of himself and his preaching talents, yet eternity alone will reveal the good he did. When friend Pilling and he were returning from their appointments on the Sabbath, George would sometimes say, "Although the task is a great one, and I am only a poor, weak, unprofitable servant, yet I find great good to my soul; whilst I am endeavouring humbly to preach the word of life to others, I find it precious to my own soul!" He was not what is called a brilliant preacher, but he was an earnest preacher. There was in him the eloquence of feeling, a soul moved with the melting theme of redeeming love. He continued preaching for a few years, but was at length compelled to give it up in consequence of the state of his health; his voice failed him in preaching; the symptoms of pulmonary complaint, which at last carried him to his grave, threatened him; preaching irritated his lungs and chest, he had therefore to give it up. In 1840 his mother became dangerously ill, which shortly terminated her existence; this was a painful stroke to his mind. During her illness he paid great attention to his mother, his filial piety was manifested in a most tender and affectionate manner; he loved his mother beyond the power of human language to describe. At the commencement of her affliction he felt much reluctance to pray with her: he could not account for this, but so it was. His mother did not make a profession of religion; she had sat under the ministry of the word, but seems not to have been fully dedicated to God. This might have been one cause of the difficulty George felt in first breaking through to pray with his mother; but he took up the cross, and three times a day did this youth bend the knee, and lift his heart to God in prayer, by the bed-side of his afflicted parent. His prayers were heard in heaven on her behalf. She sought mercy, she found it, and died full of triumph. The son is gone to join her in a happier world; they are both now before the throne of God.

About eight years ago a leader was wanted for the class at Quarmby, a place connected with the Lindley society. The leaders' meeting fixed upon G. Crosland as the most likely person to take charge of the class. He took it, and continued faithfully and successfully to discharge his duty till prevented by the affliction which terminated his course on earth. His attachment to the principles of our beloved community was very strong; he believed them to be scriptural. He loved the Connexion from principle. He was nursed and cradled in the community. It became to him, spiritually, a foster parent. He was to it a grateful, ardent, and devoted son; he watched its progress with the deepest interest; he rejoiced in its prosperity; he was sad when he saw it in adversity; he resolved to sail to glory in the vessel in which he had first embarked. His course through life was steady and consistent; he was not full of life and zeal to-day, and then cold and unconcerned on the morrow. It is true, like all others, he had his failings, his imperfections; he would have been more than human if it had been otherwise; but he had many virtues. Within the last few years there has not been the manifestation of so much warmth and zeal

as characterised his course previously, but his stability in the principles of the gospel has been as unshaken as ever. The state of his health will fully account for this; other causes, too, combined with the one just named, served to render it almost impossible to keep up the glowing ardour of his earlier years. The sly, insidious disease was working gently, slowly, but awfully sure in the system; it was rankling in the frame, unperceived by his fond wife and anxious family, until it broke forth in all its virulence, and carried its victim to an early grave. With bodily infirmities the cares of life pressed upon him; a little family rising around him, his anxiety for their welfare, may have had a depressing influence upon him. This, I think, will appear from an extract of a letter addressed to his friend A. Pilling:

"Oct. 4th, 1847.-Dear Brother, I have got to my work again. I have worked nearly a month. I feel thankful for that, but I pray for perfect health to provide for my dear family; these lie close to me. I feel the happiest when I can labour for the bread that perisheth; and make, as far as in me lies, my home comfortable; and I still hope, by the blessing of God, for without it we can do nothing, to be able to do so. I do not think I shall ever be as healthy as I once was, but I cannot tell; the Lord knows all these things, and we must try, to exercise patience under affliction; it is needful, I can assure you.

G. C."

In consequence of his health being impaired, he suffered much in his mind; none but God and himself knew the sorrows of his heart in this respect. The affliction referred to in the above letter was in the summer of 1847. He told Mr. Chapman that he felt satisfied and comfortable in his mind as to his own personal welfare; "But," said he, "the ties of nature hang heavy about me." I saw him myself at that time; there was a dear wife and two sweet lovely children by his side. I found it would be a hard struggle to give them up, still I felt no doubt but by the strengthening grace of God he would be enabled to do so; and I have the pleasure to say, that notwithstanding the strength of his natural affection, he was enabled at length fully to give up his beloved connexions into the care of his heavenly Father. Through the divine blessing with the means employed for his recovery, he was so far restored, that he resumed his accustomed employment, and again occasionally attended the house of God. An extract of a letter will give us a view of his religious experience. He writes, "I heard three fine sermons yesterday from Mr. Turnock. O! what a melting, softening time I had! I wept in the house of God, I prayed and lifted up my heart to God. As to my voice, I cannot lift that up now as I once could; it makes me weep, because, you know, when I could join in singing it was my element; now I cannot join with them it hurts me very much; but I pray that in patience I may possess my soul. I love the means of grace, the house of God. I had rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God, than dwell in the tents of wickedness.' Yours, G. Crosland. To A. Pilling."

During the spring of the present year his complaint returned again. He became seriously worse, and the prospect of ultimate recovery seemed very doubtful. I saw him again, and was much delighted to find him in a very comfortable state of mind. There was strength in the inner man; "patience had its perfect work." He was in possession

of "that peace which passeth understanding." He had a "good hope through grace." Mr. Chapman states, “ On several occasions when I visited him, I found that he was in the enjoyment of more than peace and hope; he could rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory. Few have been more mercifully supported than our dear brother; in him the peace of God reigned abundantly through righteousness unto eternal life." During the whole of his affliction he was calm, settled, and fixed; no murmuring word escaped his lips. He often cried out, “ I am on the Rock! I am on the Rock! all is right. Happy in God, I am waiting the call of the Almighty!" Speaking one day of his family, he said, I thought once I should scarcely be able to give them up, I could not have believed I could have done it so well; God gave me an abundant measure of grace; I have given all up." A relative came in one day, and told him what a pleasant place he had been to see the day before. He replied, "I am going to a grander place than that, where the streets are paved with gold." Speaking of dying, he said, "It is a work we must all do." Turning to those in the room, he said, "You will not be long after me." On the Thursday night before his death his sister Ann called to see him. He invited her to approach his bed-side, took hold of her hand, besought her to seek religion whilst she was young in years, assuring her "that whatever she would have to meet with in this world, it would enable her to get through calmly, and she would be prepared to meet her mother, sister, and brothers in heaven. And remember," said he, "they are the words of a dying brother." Oh! that they may produce the desired effect, and the last effort of our dear young friend for his sister's welfare may be successful.

A friend called in and asked how he felt in his mind. He replied, "All is right; I have done with the world; I have no fear of death." On Friday night he was very ill, but unspeakably happy in God. The doctor informed him it was doubtful whether he would live until the morning. He said, "I am glad to hear that; but still, I am willing to wait the Lord's time." There was often the holy, heavenly smile of peace and joy upon his countenance, proclaiming to his friends the triumph within. He was "quite on the verge of

heaven."

The last Sabbath I saw him he said, "I should like to join you in the house of God to-day, but cannot. I shall soon be in the upper temple in heaven." The morning before he died Mr. Fawcett went in to see him, and asked how he was. He smiled, stretched out his hand, and said. "All is well; God has dealt very kindly with me." Before his death he took his children, the eldest not quite four years of age, and, Jacob-like, blessed them before he died. He gently fell asleep in Jesus, June 4th, 1848, aged twenty-seven years. His body is laid in the chapel-yard, close by the sanctuary he loved so dearly, there to await the archangel's blast, when the dead shall be raised incorruptible and we shall be changed. His friends may plant flowers over his grave, and water them with their tears; the weeping willow may hang over the same in constant, but mournful silence; but we do not sorrow as those who are without hope; the dust sleeping there shall one day rise again, the flower cut down by the wintry blast is blooming in a fairer clime-the paradise of God. B. TURNOCK.