"It makes a different thing of it," she replied. "I felt that all the congregation loved Bertha and you. How many prayers you obtained for her and for yourselves, which you would have missed by a private baptism!"

"Besides," I remarked, "'God loveth the gates of Zion more than all the dwellings of Jacob.' I think that for that reason, and on the same principle, namely, that he is more honored, he regards our public dedication of children with more favor than a private baptism, except, of course, where sickness makes the public service impossible. But it is some trouble to mothers, and no doubt many shrink from it."

"The trouble is more in anticipation than reality," she replied. "That pastor's room, where they stay till the introductory services are over, makes it more convenient and agreeable. But all the trouble, even if it were far greater, is nothing compared with the satisfaction of having taken your offering and come into His courts. You have paid your vows unto the Lord, in the presence of all his people. You will remember those prayers, those words of Scripture which were chanted, and your feelings as you took the child into your arms to be presented to God, and as you heard those adorable names pronounced upon her and then received her back into your arms, as it were, from the hands of God."

"What do you think," said I, "of the practice of having children baptized in the church on a week-day? It enables the parents to attend meeting on the Sabbath with more composure than when they bring their children on the Sabbath."

"But O," said she, "what is that, compared with the privilege of bringing the child before the whole church of God, in his house, on the Lord's day, and so identifying its baptism with the most solemn acts of public worship? I do not like those week-day baptisms. Where they have the communion lecture in the afternoon of a week-day, there may be reasons of convenience for bringing the children for baptism then, rather than on the Sabbath; but there is a great loss of enjoyment, and also of impressiveness, in the ordinance, in doing so, I think. I was at a place, several years ago, when fourteen children were baptized on a Wednesday afternoon, in the church. I went to see it, but it was not solemn at all. I could not help thinking what an impressive and useful sight that would have been on the Sabbath, before all the people, and how much more good, probably, it would have done the parents, even if they had given up half the Sabbath in going and returning with the children."

"If people," said I, "thought more of the spiritual meaning and privileges of baptism, and viewed it as they do in times of sickness and death, they would think less of inconveniences and discomforts, and see that the ordinance is something more than giving a child a name."

Some time after this, I called upon a cousin of ours, a young married lady of our congregation, who, within a year, had come to us from another place, she having been married to an educated, intelligent member of another congregation, and who, from his great love for her, had come with her to our place of worship from another denomination, this having been made a condition of their marriage. For she felt that she could not be debarred the privilege of sitting at the Lord's table with her mother, three sisters, and brother, as she would be if she united herself with her friend's church. The idea of going to any table of Christ on earth where they could not come, thus seeming to disfranchise her whole family whom Christ had gathered into his fold, and some of them into heaven, did violence to her feelings. At one time, it seemed likely that the engagement of marriage would be terminated, on this ground alone. Some one of the gentleman's persuasion, who thought that she "ought to follow Christ in ordinances," and "take up her cross" in this instance, whispered to her that she was, perhaps, in danger of denying Christ, from love to her kindred, and he said to her, "He that loveth father or mother more than me, is not worthy of me." This had the opposite effect from that which was intended, for it showed her, in the strongest light, the error of supposing that love to Christ could ever require her to separate from herself, at the table of Christ, such friends of Jesus as the members of her dear Christian home,—a home which had been like that of Bethany to many of the Saviour's friends. She felt more sure of being actuated by right motives in giving up her marriage, and not withdrawing fellowship from her mother and the family, than she would be in sacrificing that fellowship to gratify a new affection. Her next younger sister was baptized after the father's death. She was a deaf-mute. The mother was a very beautiful woman. She had borne severe trials for her religion with a spirit of patience and Christian propriety which won the love and esteem of the community. She went to the altar of God, a widow, with the little deaf and dumb child, and presented it for baptism. It was as though the impending calamity of its father's death had shut up some of the senses of the child, and God had placed it in the mother's hand as a silent memorial to her, for life, of his chastising love. She left her fatherless flock in the family pew, and went with her nursling, not merely to give it to God, but to receive for it the seal of his covenant, bowing submissively to his inscrutable appointment, and imploring the God of Abraham to be still her God, and the God of this her seed. That scene had not failed to make deep impressions upon the other children; and now it was proposed to one of them that she should, by connecting herself in marriage, disavow her mother's right to cling, in those hours of anguish, to that asylum of the fatherless, infant baptism,—that very present help in trouble, the covenant of God with believers and their offspring. The little child, moreover, had become a Christian, and had sat with her sister, side by side, at the communion-table, for several years. "Forbid it," she prayed with herself, "that I should go where I cannot be allowed to follow Christ till I have separated this dear one from my side."

She once wrote a letter on the subject to the gentleman, which he showed, after their marriage, to some of his friends. There will be no impropriety in its appearing here. It ran thus:

The gentleman agreed to allow her the largest liberty, and they were married. He knew that she had a mind and heart that were more precious than rubies, and that the heart of a husband could safely trust in her. The sequel will show, however, how good it is to be matched as well as mated, and, in the conjugal relation, to be "perfectly joined together in the same judgment."

The object of my call, that evening, was to rejoice with her, and to be the bearer of some congratulations at the recovery of their infant, whose death had been expected for some time. The child was now perfectly restored.

As I stood in the entry, not having rung the door-bell, and was hanging up my hat and coat, some one in the parlor said:

"What good can it do the child or us to sprinkle a little water on its head?"

"Good-evening, Mr. M.," said the husband, as I went in. I was interrupted in my expression of a fear that I had intruded upon their conversation, by their assurances to the contrary. "I am glad you came in," said Mr. Kelly, "for perhaps you can help us. You heard, I suppose, what I was saying as you came in. If I am not mistaken, Mr. M., you yourself are not very strenuous about infant baptism, for I have heard of your making inquiries on the subject."

"Not only have all my doubts been removed," said I, "but the baptism of my child has been the source of the richest instruction and comfort."

"I am glad to hear you say so," said Mrs. K.

"But," said Mr. K., "you do not, of course, derive your warrant for it from the word of God. That is our only guide, you know. There is no more authority in the Bible for baptizing children than there is for praying to saints. You are probably aware that the practice originated in the third century of the Christian era."

Mr. M. It originated with a man by the name of Abraham, I believe, sir, two or three thousand years before Christ.

Mr. K. O, then, you go to Judaism for it!

Mr. M. Judaism comes to me with it, and hands it over to me. There was something good in Judaism, we all think. Judaism was not a Mormonism, as certain ways of speaking of it not unfrequently would make us think it to have been; it was not an exploded folly, but the form which the church of God bore for two thousand years. But it began before Judaism; it is older than Moses. Judaism received it from Abraham. It is like a great river rising in a desert place, and seeming to lose itself in a lake, but flowing out again into another lake, and thence to the sea. So Judaism was only a great lake, which took and seemingly held this river of baptism for a time, but its current went on and flowed into another lake, the Christian dispensation. But you cannot say that a river which makes a chain of lakes, rises, for that reason, in the first lake. No, its head spring, in this case, was antecedent to the lake.

Mr. K. Did Abraham or the Jews baptize children, Mr. M.?

I answered, "Every male child of Abraham's descendants, who should not receive the sign of consecration to God, was to be cut off from among the people. Proselytes of the covenant and their children were baptized, very early."

Mr. K. But where is the command to apply baptism to children?

Mr. M. Where, my dear sir, is the command to discontinue that which was enjoined upon the founder of the race of believers for all time? I believe in the perpetuity of Abraham's relation to us as the father of the faithful, as I believe in Adam's relation to us as the representative of the race, and in the Saviour's relation to us as our representative. God seems to love these federal headships, as we call them. Abraham did not receive circumcision being a Jew, but, as the apostle says, "as a seal of the righteousness which is by faith, which he had while he was yet uncircumcised." We have Scripture for that, Mr. Kelly. And "the law, which was four hundred and thirty years after," did not disannul that covenant "that was confirmed before of God in Christ." How can you call circumcision a Jewish ordinance, when the Bible so explicitly denies it to be of Jewish origin?

Mr. K. O, I do not understand this Abrahamic covenant. I take the New Testament for my guide.

Mr. M. You think well of the book of Psalms, I presume, as a help to prayer and pious feelings?

Mr. K. Yes; but in all matters of faith and practice, the New Testament, like the doings of the latest session of the legislature, is the rule for New Testament believers. You might as well have tried to govern the ancient Jews with the New Testament, as enforce the laws of the Old Testament on us.

Mr. M. Is the privilege of having God stand in a special relation to my child an Old Testament ordinance, in the same sense with ceremonial observances?

Mr. K. Not exactly that, but it is a superstition to baptize children, now that circumcision is done away, and believers' baptism is enjoined.

Mr. M. Believers' baptism is enjoined, but children's baptism is not therefore prohibited.

Mr. K. But where is it enacted?

Mr. M. If the original form of dedicating children is essential, why is not the original form of the Sabbath essential, the very day which was first appointed? How dare we change a day which God himself ordained from the beginning, until he makes the change as peremptory as the institution itself? Have we any right to infer, in such an important matter? Where is the express, divine command,—not precedent, example, usage, but where is the enactment,—making the first day of the week the Christian Sabbath?

Mr. K. So long as we may keep the thing, observing one day in seven, it makes no difference which day we keep, if we can all agree on one and the same day. We do not all agree to retain circumcision in any way.

Mr. M. So long as we may retain the thing signified by circumcision, it makes but little difference what form is used to express it.

Mr. K. The apostles, who changed the Sabbath from the seventh to the first day, knew the mind of Christ.

Mr. M. And so the men, who first practised infant baptism, knew the minds of the inspired apostles, and they knew the mind of Christ. But to go a step further back, the only ground for inferring that the Sabbath is rightly changed from the seventh to the first day of the week, is the incidental mention of Christ's meeting his assembled disciples a few times after his resurrection on the first day. On that slight ground we are all content to rest our present observance of the Sabbath. Now, I say that the mention of the baptism of households eight times, in one form and another, is as good a warrant for infant baptism, as those two or three Sabbath-evening meetings were for the institution of the Lord's-day Sabbath.

Mr. K. I cannot agree with you, Mr. M., in putting circumcision on the same level with the Sabbath.

Mr. M. I myself see a resemblance in the changes made in the two cases. I have no wish to proselyte you to my views. I have only answered your polite inquiries.

Mr. K. O, I know that; we shall be good friends still; but I see no grounds for baptizing children on the faith of their parents.

Mr. M. We look at the thing from different points of view. I see it as clearly as I see that the church of God is essentially the same in all ages, with its variety of forms. This matter of children's baptism is with me a spiritual thing, and is independent of dispensations. You know that a river may have, in one district of the earth through which it flows, one name, and in another district another name, while it is the same river. Now, the divine recognition of believers' children, as standing in a special covenanted relation with God, is the headspring of infant dedication by the use of a rite. The object of this recognition is, that He may have a godly seed. God does not perpetuate religion directly by natural descent, it is true, but he seeks to promote it by descent from a pious parentage, and he therefore endows that parentage with special privileges and promises. The inclusion of children with their believing parents has been the great means of perpetuating religion in the earth. It is a stream which washed the shores of Judaism under the name of circumcision; now it washes the shores of the Gentiles under the name of baptism. For the Saviour or the apostles to have reÄppointed infant dedication, with the use of the cotemporary initiating ordinance, would, to my mind, be as superfluous as for the allied powers to have agreed that the Danube should still run through Austria.

Mr. K. Your principle of interpretation, Mr. M., has brought in all the darkness which has covered the earth in the Romish apostacy. There will be no end to human inventions in religion, if this principle prevails.

Mr. M. But, my dear sir, there certainly has been an end at the very beginning; for what inventions in Protestant worship have non-prelatical PÆdobaptists made? Surely that practice has not been prolific of superstitions. I often hear this alleged, Mr. K., and we are called Romish and Popish because we baptize infants. But will it not be best for Christian sects to allow each other entire liberty of conscience, and not accuse each other of tendencies to Romanism, when all are zealously Protestant? Here is a piece, which I cut from a newspaper lately, which describes the baptism by immersion of some females and others, one Sabbath in January, the thermometer below zero, a place being cut through the ice for the purpose, and a boy watching with a pole to keep the floating ice from the opening. Shall I call this Romish, superstitious, fanatical? Shall I say, How can we, consistently with such practices among Protestants, say anything about the doctrine of penances? No. I prefer to think that those who do these things are as good Protestants as myself, and I will not impeach their rigid adherence to their belief, by imputing Romish tendencies to their modes of worship and their ordinances; for no people are further from Romanism in their principles than they (unless it be some of us PÆdobaptists, Mrs. Kelly).

Mr. K. Well, there is no quarrelling with you; but let me say that when another sect sees you employing an ordinance which has no warrant in the Bible,—sprinkling water upon people, on proper subjects and improper subjects for baptism, when we know that the word baptize means to immerse, and that believers only are properly baptized,—how can we be silent? Would you be silent if Episcopalians should set up Latin prayers, or the confessional; or the Methodists turn their love-feasts into the old Passover?

Mr. M. We must tolerate the mistakes and errors of those who, in the main, are confessedly good, and are conscientious in what we deem their errors. When the noble array of great and good men in the Episcopal Low Church, and among the Methodists, fall into such mistakes as you have specified, there will be opportunity for other Christians to express themselves. But you are rather rhetorical in your reasoning, to compare the practice of infant baptism by Owen, and Watts, and Doddridge, and Leighton, and Baxter, and all like them, with Latin prayers and a return to the Passover.

Mr. K. There is not a case of sprinkling in the New Testament. You are too well-informed to deny this.

Mr. M. Mr. K., there is not one instance of baptism, in the New Testament, where there does not appear to me to be an improbability of its having been administered by immersion.

By this time Mrs. K., who had been called away to attend to her child, returned, and hearing my last remark, said, with a significant look at her husband:

"We shall require you to prove that, Mr. M."

"Most willingly," said I. "Do you think, cousin Eunice, that the multitudes who came to John and the apostles to be baptized, brought changes of raiment with them?"

"No," said she; "and there were no conveniences for making a change of dress in those places, I presume."

Mr. M. Were they immersed in the clothes which they had on?

Mrs. K. That does not seem probable. Some of them, at least, had valuable garments, we may suppose, and few, if any, would wish to have their apparel wet through, or to keep it on them, if wet.

Mr. M. They were not immersed without clothing, of course, promiscuously, and, therefore, I believe that they were all baptized by sprinkling or pouring, their loose upper garments allowing them to step into the water, or very near it; and John, standing there (and the apostles, also, when they administered baptism), and laying on the water with his hand, or, which is not impossible, with the long-accustomed bunches of hyssop. The Episcopal mode of administering the Lord's Supper, enables me to conceive how baptism by sprinkling could be administered rapidly. As six or more people are kneeling, the Episcopal minister gives each his portion of the bread, and repeats the formula, not to each one, but once only while his hand is passing over the six. So, I imagine, John repeated whatever form he had (and the apostles theirs) to companies, while, in rapid succession, he applied the water to them. It is impossible to account for the performance of such incredible labor as John must have undergone, unless we adopt some such supposition as this, or confess that John's baptism was, throughout, a miracle. But "the people said, John did no miracle." If the apostles sprinkled three thousand in this way, by companies, in one day, as they could easily have done, we can see how the same day there could be "added unto them about three thousand souls," even if "added" meant being baptized. That the apostles had assistance in administering baptism at this early period, is not probable. They had not yet proposed to have helpers in taking care of the poor, much less to share with them the first administration of Christian baptism. If any church were to require me to believe, before admitting me to the Lord's table, that the apostles immersed three thousand people at the day of Pentecost, after nine o'clock in the morning, in the midst of necessary labors, and at that driest season of the year, or in tanks, I could no more believe it than I could confess that the earth is flat.

Mrs. K. But "John was baptizing in Enon, near to Salim, because there was much water there."

Mr. M. "Much water," in those countries, was on a smaller scale than in North America. They would have needed all the lake-shore or river banks that could be found, to witness the baptisms, and to pass in and out of, or to and from, the water, conveniently, while John stood to receive them in or near the water. A fountain or small body of water would not have accommodated those multitudes; not because the water would not suffice, for a small running stream would be enough, and would have afforded "much water;" but think what inconvenience there would have been in baptizing a crowd around a small stream. Baptism by immersion, among us, though a few gallons of water only are needed, is more conveniently done where there is "much water;" because the spectators can spread themselves along the banks, and then there is no confusion. The most convenient and rapid way of baptizing multitudes by sprinkling would be, for the administrator to stand in the water, and let the people pass by him. Besides, those multitudes who came to John's baptism needed "much water" for themselves and their beasts.

Mrs. K. But the Saviour went down into the water, and came up out of the water.

Mr. M. So did John, in the same sense; and so did "both Philip and the Eunuch;" but John and Philip did not, therefore, go under the water. But Mr. Kelly will tell you that down in to, and up out of, might as well have been translated to and from, in the case of the Eunuch. If you insist that going down into the water involves immersion, it follows that Philip went under the water with the Eunuch, and there baptized him.

Mr. K. We shall set those matters right in that new version of the Bible which you were complaining of the last time I saw you. Down into, and up out of, are required by the word baptize, which means immerse.

Mr. M. No, my dear sir, not always, even in the New Testament. The word had come, even in the Saviour's time, to signify purification, or consecration, irrespective of the mode. The Pharisees, in coming from the market-places, except they wash, eat not. The word is baptize. But they did not bathe at such times; they "baptized" themselves by washing their bodies. We read of the baptism of beds, which was merely washing them. The Israelites were baptized unto Moses. There the word means, simply, inaugurated, or set apart, with no reference to the mode; for, they were not immersed, but bedewed, if wet at all; they were not buried in that cloud, for the other cloud that led them was in sight; they were not buried in the sea, which was a wall to them on either hand.

There is a good illustration, it seems to me, of the change in words from their literal meaning, in the passage where Christ is called the "first-born of every creature." He was not born first, before all men, but he has the "preËminence" over all creatures, as the first-born had among the children. Here is an illustration, from the New Testament, of the way in which baptism may cease to denote any mode, and refer only to an act of consecration.

As to that new version of the Bible, Coleridge says, that the state ought to be, to all religious denominations, like a good portrait, which looks benignantly on all in the room. So the Bible now seems to look kindly upon all Christian sects; and, for one, I love to have it so. But, some of you, good brethren, who are in favor of this new version to suit your particular views, are trying to alter the eyes of the portrait so that they shall look only on you, and to your part of the room. We think that you ought to be satisfied with the present kind look which you get from them. There is one comfort—you will make a new picture to please yourselves, and we shall keep the old portrait.

"Please do not be too severe on my husband for that mistake of his," said Mrs. K.; "I think that he is getting better of it, in a measure."

Mr. K. I will make you a present of the book when it arrives, and, perhaps, you will agree with me. But I am surprised to hear you say that you do not believe the Saviour to have been immersed by John.

Mr. M. It was not Christian baptism, at any rate, if he were; for the names of the Trinity are essential to Christian baptism, and those names had not been thus applied.

Besides, John could not have plunged and lifted those thousands without superhuman strength and endurance, which we know he did not possess. The same reasoning applies, in the baptism of the three thousand at the day of Pentecost, both as respects what I have said of raiment, and the time and strength of the apostles.

The baptism of the Eunuch was, to my mind, most probably by sprinkling, making no change of raiment necessary. "See, here is water,"—a spring, or stream, by the road-side, quite as likely (and, travellers now say, more probably) as a pond. Yes, sir, Philip went down into the water just as much as the Eunuch did, if we follow the Greek literally. I think that down refers to the chariot, the act of leaving it to go to the water. But the English version, as it now stands, makes strongly for your view of the case in the mind of the common reader.

Saul of Tarsus was baptized after having been struck blind, and while he was in a state of extreme exhaustion from excitement, without food; for, during three days, "he did neither eat nor drink." He was baptized before he ate; for, we read, "And he arose and was baptized; and, when he had received meat, he was strengthened." It does not seem to me probable that they would have put him into a river, or tank, before giving him food. But it seems to me natural and suitable for Ananias to draw nigh, and impress the trembling man with the mild and gentle sign of Christianity, the rite giving a soothing and cheering efficacy to the words of adoption, and in no way disturbing him in body or mind. I have always regarded the baptism of Saul as a strong presumptive proof with regard to baptism by affusion.

So with the midnight scene of baptism in the prison at Philippi. The preparation of one or more large vessels, to immerse the household, is not congruous with the circumstances narrated, as I read them. But the quiet and convenient act of baptism by sprinkling, falls in harmoniously with the other parts of the transaction. For my part, I have always wondered how any one can fail to see that there are so many improbabilities of immersion in every case of baptism, in the New Testament, as to counteract any weight which the word baptize carries with it, more especially since the word and its derivatives are employed, in the New Testament, in cases where the mode of using the water is evidently not intended.

Mr. K. "Buried with him in baptism." Mr. M., you will confess that this is an impregnable proof-text. You have never been "buried with him in baptism."

Mr. M. But I am "risen with him," Mr. K. With all humility and tears, I must say to you, "If any man trusteth to himself that he is Christ's, let him also think this with himself, that as he is Christ's even so also we are Christ's." Your application of the passage, just quoted by you, disproves your interpretation of it. If we must be buried in water, when we are baptized, then no one is risen with Christ who has not been immersed. You thus disfranchise four fifths, to say the least, of God's elect. No, my dear sir, being buried with Christ in baptism does not mean immersion. People in the frozen ocean, the sick and dying, who are sprinkled with water in the name of the Christian's God, are "buried with Christ in baptism into death;" that is, profess to be dead and buried to sin, as Christ was dead and buried for it. Besides, follow out the passage, and there is no allusion to the form of baptism, as I can perceive, but to something else. "Buried with him by baptism into death; that like as Christ was raised,"—from the water?—yes, if water baptism be now in the writer's mind; but no,—"like as Christ was raised from the dead, by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life." The word buried, therefore, in this passage, refers to the completeness of the Saviour's death for sin (as we say intensively of a deceased person, he is dead and buried), and of the completeness of our renunciation of it. We are dead and buried to sin, as Christ was for it; and we rise to newness of life, when we profess to be Christians, as Christ rose from the dead, not from the water.

Mr. K. How is it with infants? Are they dead and buried to sin when they are baptized? If being buried, in this passage, means being dead and buried to sin, then infants are regenerated by baptism.

Mr. K. gave his wife a pleased look, as though he had placed me in a dilemma.

"Mrs. Kelly," said I, "how do you suppose that nursing children ate the first passover?"

"I suppose that they ate it through the faith of their parents," said Mrs. K., looking narrowly into the stitches of her crochet-work, to control a smile.

"That passover, however," said I, "was the means of saving those children, who, many of them, were the first-born in their respective families. Yet they were saved by the passover through the faith of their parents. Do not understand me as urging the comparison to an extreme; I only say that there we have an example of parents acting for the child in a matter of faith. The infant child was incapable of believing, and even where the first-born was grown up, the parent acted for him in the ordinance, by sprinkling the door with blood. I do not prove infant baptism by this, but I use it to show that parents may use an ordinance for their infants. Mr. K. asks if baptized infants are buried with Christ in baptism into death,—that is, die unto sin and rise to newness of life. The parents profess by the baptism that they will use means to effect this in their children, through the grace of the Holy Spirit. I should like to ask Mr. Kelly if he believes that every person who is immersed, is buried into death, spiritually, with Christ, or is actually dead to sin forever; or, whether it is only a profession of one's hope and intention. For we have all known some, who had been buried in water, that did not prove to have died unto sin."

Mr. K. Of course it is a symbol; and all we insist on is, that Paul must have had immersion in mind, as the form of baptism, when he spoke of being buried by baptism.

Mr. M. When Paul says, "I am crucified with Christ," do you suppose that the idea of a cross was in his mind? Did he intimate that sanctification is effected by a piece of wood, with a transverse beam, used as a gibbet? Or did he simply mean, I am dead to the world, and the world is dead to me, yea, and put to death (not merely dying in a natural way), through the power of the Saviour's sufferings and death on my behalf? The burial of Christ, following his death for sin, and so completing the idea of dying, is enough to have suggested the figure, I think, of our being not only dead with Christ, but buried with him, by a Christian profession; that is, we utterly cease from the world and sin, professedly, as Christ not only died, but went into the tomb. But what does "risen" refer to in that passage,—the water or death?—"from whence also ye are risen with him through the faith of the operation of God."

Mr. M. Why, how do you understand it?

Mr. K. I prefer, if you please, that you should answer. Many understand it thus: "You are buried in water, to denote death to sin; you are lifted up out of the water (as Christ was lifted up by the Baptist), to live a new life." If this be so, what is "the operation of God," which is spoken of there? Does it need any such "operation" for an immersed person to rise out of the water? No, my dear sir, our interpretation makes plain and thorough work of the whole passage. Our idea of that controverted passage (your great proof-text) is this: You, Christian professors, were, all of you, baptized, on profession of your faith;—when you made a Christian profession, you signified by it your dying unto sin, as Christ died for it, so that, I may say, you were dead and buried to sin. But, as Christ came to life again, so you rose with him, not to sin, but to live a new life. Hear Dr. Watts on the passage:

"Do we not know that solemn word,
That we are buried with the Lord,
Baptized into his death, and then
Put off the body of our sin?
"Our souls receive diviner breath,
Raised from corruption, guilt and death;
So from the grave did Christ arise,
And lives to God above the skies."

I do not believe that the mode of baptism is alluded to at all in this text.

Mr. K. I cannot agree with you, sir. The contrary is perfectly clear to my own mind.

"Mr. M.," said Mrs. Kelly, "do you think that you and Mr. K. would ever think alike on this subject?"

"Never," said I. "People almost always end where they began, when they discuss this topic; only they do not always leave off in such good-nature as Mr. K. and I intend to do. I never knew a person to change his views to either side, unless he began as an inquirer, and not as an advocate."

"What is the reason," said Mrs. K., "that good people are left to differ so about unessential things in religion, when they all hold to the same way of being saved?"

"I suppose," said I, "that, as poor human nature is, for the present, more is effected, on the whole, by letting us divide into sects, and giving us each some external or speculative discrepancies to excite our zeal. It is a sad reflection upon us, if this be so, and our sectarian behavior illustrates that hardness of our hearts, in view of which, perhaps, God suffers us to divide as we do. But, still, you see how wisely God has ordained that good people shall not differ about essential things—that might be fatal to the success of his truth; but they are left to divide about forms, and ordinances, and some doctrinal matters which do not involve the question of the way to be saved. In that they all agree."

Mrs. K. How pleasant it would be if they would all think alike!

Mr. M. Perhaps it might not be best at present. They should tolerate each other's views, meet and act together where they may; but I do like to see a man heartily attached to his own denomination, without bigotry. I have not much partiality for those schemes of union which require and expect each sect to give up its peculiarities, and which seek to amalgamate us. It is unnatural. Let each be thoroughly persuaded of his own faith;—different temperaments and habits of thought are suited by different modes and forms;—but let us treat each other as Christians, and with urbanity and kindness. That is the most sublime spectacle of union. It comes nearer to fulfilling the prayer of Christ, "that they all may be one," when we differ strongly, and yet keep the unity of the spirit. I am doubtful whether, even in heaven, there will not be such innocent diversity of views about things successively beyond our knowledge or comprehension, as to stimulate inquiry and discussion; but that we shall ever be capable, as we are here, of alienation, in consequence of these varying opinions, is impossible.

Mr. K. Do you not think, Mr. M., that we shall all think alike about baptism in the millennium?

Mr. M. I suppose that you expect that we shall all give up infant baptism. But my expectation is that, as we approach that day, the last prophecy of the Old Testament will be as truly fulfilled as it was at the coming of Christ, and that the hearts of the fathers will be turned to the children, and the hearts of the children to the fathers. Parental piety and discipline will be greatly promoted, and an attendant of it will be, I suppose, a greater use of the ordinance of infant baptism, demanded by the pious feelings of parents, as pious feeling in the regenerate craves the ordinance which commemorates the love and sufferings of the Redeemer. The feelings of pious parents will require the ordinance of infant baptism, as an expression of their earnest desire to have fellowship with God as the God of the believer and his offspring, the covenant-keeping God. It is to the increase and prevalence of this feeling that I look now for an increasing observance of infant baptism; for, without such feeling, the ordinance is an empty name. Where that feeling exists, it soon modifies the speculative views of a parent. As our conscious need of an atoning Saviour soon dispels the former difficulties about the doctrine of the Trinity, so a longing desire to have special covenanting with God for a dear child, makes the subject of God's everlasting covenant with Abraham, as the great believer, and the father of believers, plain.

Now, before I forget it, please let me tell you of an objection to infant baptism, which I lately met with, drawn from the effect of the prevalent practice of it in a community.

The objection is, it prevents us, in a measure, from fulfilling Christ's command, "Go, teach all nations, baptizing them." For, going into the Roman Catholic or Greek churches, or an Armenian country, and making converts, the missionaries cannot baptize them, for, alas! they were baptized in infancy, and to re-baptize is against the law of the countries.

Now, this seems to me no great calamity; for if the converts themselves recognize their baptism, and adopt it as profession of their faith, it is like a man's acknowledging the hand and seal on an instrument, made irregularly at first, but now, under competent circumstances, declared to be equivalent to his own act and deed at the date of this declaration. He would not need to re-write the document, nor to use wax or wafers again, except in witness of his acknowledging the original act. "Though it be but a man's covenant, yet, if it be confirmed, no man disannulleth or addeth thereto."

But, however it may be in such countries and communions as I have named, certainly it cannot be a calamity if the practice of infant baptism becomes such a spiritual and practical thing, that young persons are generally converted, so that adult baptisms disappear. I love to notice, when several persons join our church, how few of them receive baptism, showing that their baptism in childhood has been followed by conversion. The fewness of adult baptisms, with us, compared with cases of infant baptism, is a good sign. They will be fewer and fewer, in proportion as our parents make and keep covenant with God for their children.

Mr. Kelly was at this moment called out, but requested me to remain and finish the conversation with Mrs. K. She resumed it, saying:

"Had I better read any more on the subject? My feelings lead me strongly to take our little one to church. I feel that I should be strengthened by the solemn act of doing what the covenant of your church says, 'avouching the Lord Jehovah to be your God and the God of your children forever.' I do wish to feel that I have done something like bearing testimony before God, in a special way, that I give my child to him, and engage God to be his God."

Mr. M. I should candidly examine whatever Mr. K. wishes you to read or hear on the subject, and not be afraid of the truth, let it lead where it may. But what first made you think of baptizing your little boy?

Mrs. K. I always loved the ordinance. But, when I thought that Henry was going to die, I was watching him all night, and, as I was praying, it occurred to me that I wished I could see the church praying for him; and that led me to think of the church praying for a child when it is brought into the house of God. I felt that night that, if I could speak to the pastor, I would ask him to request the prayers of the church for him as for one who, if he got well, should be brought into the house of God, and be publicly consecrated, and I with him, again, as his mother, to the Lord. I had given him and myself to God; but I felt the need of some more special act, on which I could fall back in my thoughts, and of which God would graciously say to me, "I am the God of Bethel, where thou anointedst the pillar, and where thou vowedst a vow unto me."

Mr. M. How kind it was in God to remind Jacob of that pile of stones, and to call himself the God of Bethel! O, how he loves marked exercises of consecration and love!

Mrs. K. My husband always said, "Let him offer himself for baptism when he grows up, and understands the meaning of it." I told him that when I was admitted to the church I was not baptized, but I had this pleasant feeling, that I had a baptism in infancy by my dear good mother to think of now, and to seal by my own acknowledgment. If Henry had died without being baptized, or should now be hindered from it, I should never cease to grieve.

Mr. M. You think, however, that he would be saved, nevertheless.

Mrs. K. O, saved! that is not all. I do not think merely of his getting into heaven. Though we are saved wholly by grace, is there not something implied in "washing our robes, and making them white, in the blood of the Lamb?" I do not believe in justification by works nor by sacraments, yet I do believe in their wonderful effect, through grace alone, upon our character and future condition. I do believe, Mr. M., that there is a difference between children whose parents, impelled by love to God, make public offering of their children to him, with solemn vows, and daily perform their vows, treating their children as baptized in the name of the Trinity, and children whose parents either carelessly baptize them, or feel no such spiritual desires for them as to seek the use of any public ordinance, nor any special private consecration. I believe that God regards them differently. He has placed his mark on the baptized. I must go with my son to God's house, as Hannah did, and with her feelings. How strange! She prayed for that son, and then, as soon as he was weaned, she gave him away to God; for it is beautifully said, you know, "And the child was young." Well, I think I understand that. I could leave Henry in the temple, if the service of God's house required him; for, when he was sick, I gave him up to God, and as long as he liveth he shall be the Lord's. How did cousin Bertha feel about the baptism after your little boy died?

Mr. M. It was often the chief topic of her conversation. Her father wrote a full statement of his views, which helped her greatly. We have read it over since we lost our child. I will send it to you, if you wish. You can read it, with Mr. K.'s books, and I wish you to show it to him if he cares to see it.

All this was done. Kind feelings prevailed; there was not much discussion, and, one Sabbath morning, little Henry Kelly was brought to church. But the mother was without the father. He was called to a distant place on business; but he allowed his wife to act her pleasure in the case during his long absence. More of this in its place.