gave aditional glory to his victory over the powers of darkness.

Soon after this, one of his brethren in office entering his chamber, said to him, "You are almost in heaven, and will soon obtain the crown.” His eyes immediately brightened with joy, and pointing upwards, he said, "Yes! yes!" and added, "These are they who came out of great tribulation." Being asked, whether he were in pain, he answered, " Yes: but in heaven there shall be no more pain. Death has lost his sting. O come! come!" and then looking at two of his family, he said, "I would rather, I would rather go. Oh! to dwell with him!

"Millions of years my wondering eyes!"

His speech faultered-his breathing soon after became difficult, and on the following morning he breathed his soul into the hands of that Redeemer whom he had loved and served with so much fervour and sincerity.

The writer had the pleasure of living on terms of friendly intimacy with Mr. Tuck, for the space of nearly twelve years; and he takes this opportunity of saying, as a mark of respect to his memory, that he uniformly exhibited some of the finest qualities of the Christian character; and though, like others, he was a man of infirmities, yet for meekness of wisdom, candour and liberality of spirit, integrity and uprightness of principle, and universal benevolence of disposition and feeling, he

rose to an eminence as much above the level of many professors, as the lofty summit of the cloud capt mountain is above the top of the mole hill of the desert. To see such a man favoured, in the decline of life, with extraordinary manifestations of the love of God, reminds us of the dispensation of grace, which exempted Enoch from the bitterness of death; and though an intermitting season of darkness came over him just before his departure, yet that circumstance renders his experience more truly interesting and impressive, by reminding us, that the most eminent saints are not exempted from the visitations of sorrow, while the momentary cessation of their animated bliss, merely serves to call into more prominent and vigorous exercise their faith, and their patience, and to give them a keener relish for the returning light of joy. To suppose that the Wicked One, would make no assault, if permitted, on such a rich heir of glory, would be to betray an ignorance of the activity and malignity of his disposition; and while in his discomfiture we trace the faithfulness and the power of the Captain of our salvation, we almost unconsciously derive fresh energy of soul to withstand him. If then the pious reader should, as the shadows of death are falling upon him, hear the roaring of the lion, or feel the perplexing insinuations and suggestions of the old serpent, let him not be astonished,— let him not be cast down, by supposing that his faith is fainting, or that his past enjoyments and anticipations are delusions that will never be realized, for he has an example before him, of one who was holy and useful in his life, alternately exercised with the most animating and depressing feelings-suffering a momentary terror which no resources of personal courage could alleviate, yet rising out of this state of mental agitation into the fulness of joy, and retiring from the scene of conflict, waving the palm of victory, as he sung the triumphant song.

MRS. SKINNER.

ANN, the late wife of Mr. William Skinner, jun., banker, of Stockton-upon-Tees, was born July 11, 1797. Through the kind providence of God, who wisely appoints the "bounds of our habitation," the lines had fallen to her in pleasant places, and she enjoyed a goodly heritage. She was blessed with a disposition affectionate, lively, and grateful; and with parents who brought her under the preaching of the gospel, which became the means of convincing her of her natural alienation from God-of her own personal transgression, and of her need of a Saviour. This was about the fifteenth year of her age.

In the summer of 1815, she went to London for the completion of her education. She was committed by her judicious friends into the hands of those who possessed, not only supe rior ability to direct her youthful mind in a course of useful studies, but also of superior piety. Here she enjoyed many religious pri

vileges; but although for awhile she continued to use them, yet she neglected to "keep her heart with all diligence." A lax observance of the duties of private devotion too generally precedes their entire abandonment, and soon induces a proportionate indifference to the more public means of grace. And when these two mighty bulwarks of piety are enfeebled, the Christian becomes an easy prey to his spiritual enemies. She was often visited by some of her fashionable relatives in town. Their kindness won on her affections; and, as the vacation drew near, she received repeated solicitations to pass it with them. It was not without misgivings of conscience, that she acceded to the proposal; but having done so, she ventured into a sphere where every thing was calculated to allure her soul from things invisible and divine. In this situation, the Holy Spirit, whose office it is to "convince of sin,” frequently warned her of her danger: yet, alas ! the smiles of the world, and the kindness of its votaries had a paralyzing influence over her mind. During the intervening months of her continuance in the metropolis, she became more indifferent to serious subjects, and her heart increasingly obtuse to religious feelings. So effectually had the world turned her aside from God, that forbidden objects chiefly engrossed her desires and affections.

In the month of June, 1816, she returned

home, when her change of disposition and deportment sufficiently corroborated the apprehension that her relish for spiritual enjoyments had become nearly, if not totally, extinct. Such, however, was the amiable flexibility of her disposition that she consented to accompany the other members of her family, as formerly, to the ministry of the word amongst that people of whom she had lately felt ashamed. It was not long before the Lord again vouchsafed to bless the means of his own appointment, and awakened afresh that conscience, which had been so fatally lulled into insensibility by the opiates of worldly enjoyment. The " sword of the Spirit" penetrated with mighty force into her heart. She experienced now, not the "still small voice," or the gentle drawings of divine love, but " the whirlwind and storm" of infinite displeasure, "the wormwood and the gall" of bitter repentance. She saw from whence she had fallen, and trembled to behold the awful consequences if she remained in such a state. In a private prayer-meeting, held in the evening of the 20th of June, 1817, she was overwhelmed with a full perception of her perilous condition; and her desire for salvation proportionably increased. After the conclusion of this meeting, she retired to her own room with a female friend, where they joined in fervent supplication, until, casting herself on the Blood of Atonement, the