distinguishes between parvuli (little children) and infantes (infants.)Although Origen believed in baptismal regeneration, and perhaps, like Cyprian his cotemporary, that in extreme cases sprinkling might be practised, still, he was undoubtedly an advocate of immersion in all cases where the candidate was in such a state of health and age, as to make it proper, in his estimation, for him to receive it. He clearly intimates in the passage above mentioned, that little children could not properly receive baptism for any other reason than that they were polluted, and would thus be regenerated and purified. He says in one place, referring to 1 Cor. x. 1, 2: "We would not have you ignorant, brethren, that all our fathers have passed through Jordan, and have all been baptized into Jesus, in the spirit and in the river." This, evidently, refers to immersion, and proves that in his opinion that was the uniform practice in primitive times. It is entirely opposed to the supposition that Origen ever asserted infant baptism to have been derived from the apostles. But we have already intimated that these fragments of that Father's writings may be mere interpolations. It is true that he advocated infant baptism, and was the first writer who did; but he defended that rite, by no means, on the same ground as Pædobaptists generally do at the present day. Probably the notion of baptismal regeneration and its legitimate offspring, infant baptism, had not extended as yet very widely, though they spread somewhat rapidly after they were once introduced into the African churches. They did not, however, become general in the eastern and western churches until near the end of the fourth century.

In closing, let us say, Origen was certainly a great and good man.His eloquence, learning, amiable disposition, christian fidelity, and sincere and ardent piety, gave him an immense influence among all classes of his fellow men, and enabled him to accomplish an immense amount of good. He is now, we do not doubt, reaping the reward of his labors in the kingdom of heaven.

REV. MR. HOWE.-It is related of Rev. Mr. Howe, late of Hopkinton, Massachusetts, that during the period his people were discussing the subject of a new meeting-house, one day while he was preaching, observing his congregation in rather a lethargic state, he stopped in the middle of his sermon, and, casting his eyes around, remarked they were talking about erecting a new meeting-house; but he did not know that it was worth while, as the timbers looked in pretty good condition, and he was sure the sleepers were sound.

B.

A VISIT TO MY NATIVE TOWN.

Changes-Death of dear relatives—A father no more-His happy exit.*

HAVING a few leisure weeks, I resolved to improve them, by journeying in the country for the benefit of my health. After travelling a few days, I approached a very pleasant village, situated on a beautiful river in the interior of New Hampshire. As the white cottage-homes appeared in the distance, a mournful pleasure stole insensibly over my mind, for there I had spent many of my youthful days. Recollection was awakened to new activity, and scenes long since passed, were called up with all their original freshness. I thought of the early days of my youth, when I united with the gay and thoughtless in pursuing worldly pleasure, and in neglecting the great salvation. And as I saw the very houses where night after night had been spent in sinful amusements, my old companions in sin arose before me, and I longed to see them, that I might once more point them to the satisfying pleasures of heaven. But, alas! death had been there, and many of them had gone to an untimely grave, where no gospel messages can ever be heard. As those youthful graves of loved associates were called to mind, all shrouded with the deep darkness of despair, I was constrained to pause, and lift to heaven a grateful prayer for that distinguishing grace which arrested me in my career of sin, and gave me the hopes and joys of the Christian.

At length I came to the lovely stream, where I publicly acknowledged my attachment to Christ, by being "planted with him in the likeness of his death." Though years had passed away, since that joyful occasion, still the place was as precious as ever. All the interesting scenes of that happy day crowded upon my mind. I saw in imagination the assembled multitude. I heard the sweet song of praise, as it went up from hundreds of devoted hearts, and I thought I felt the same joyful emotions that filled my heart when the man of God raised me from the baptismal grave. An almost irresistible spell bound me to the spot, for I felt for a moment that I stood at the very gate of heaven. But the coming shadows of evening admonished me that I must find lodgings for the night. Accordingly, I retired a short distance from the village, and soon found myself at the door of the old family home. Every thing looked changed, but there the old mansion stood, and a thousand other

* This sketch is from one of our contributors, and refers to trying scenes in which we have ourselves participated.-ED.

familiar objects arose before me, assuring me that I had once more reached the home of my childhood. As I entered, my mother, and the brother who had charge of my aged parents, sat in silence by the fireside. They received me cordially, and tried to be cheerful, but I soon perceived that some unusual burden was resting upon their hearts.— “Why," said I, are you thus cast down? Tell me the cause of your sadness." A silence followed, and tears choked their utterance. By and by my brother broke the silence—" God has laid his hand upon me— he has taken from me the partner of my youth. O that parting scene! I felt her parting grasp; I heard her last farewell; I saw her last look of affection-I pressed my lips upon her marble cheek, but it was cold in death. Then I valued prayer, and then the Saviour appeared infinitely precious, as a kind, sympathizing friend. But," added he, "this did not end my affliction-death came again, and tore from me my sweet boymy only child, and left me alone. I know that my heavenly Father has done right, but how difficult it is to say from the heart, Thy will be done.'"

I could not wait to hear my brother through, for I had anxious thoughts about another. "Where is my father?" asked I, anxiously. My mother spoke softly, and with a subdued tone, as though grief was pent up in her bosom. "He is very low," she said, "and I fear we shall not have him with us long," and then conducted me to his bed-side. He looked pale, and deathly, but the familiar features of my own dear father were there. I seized his emaciated hand, and asked him if he knew me he raised his languid eye, which soon brightened into a smile, and in a faint whisper, expressed his joy at my return. During the afternoon and evening, I sat by his side, and conversed with him as much as his extreme weakness would allow. I found him calm, and peaceful, patiently waiting for his approaching change. Though experiencing great pain of body, he uttered no complaint. His thoughts and affections seemed raised entirely above earthly things, and no doubt he was looking by faith within the vail, and was attracted by celestial glories. "I did not expect such faith," was one of his expressions with reference to his happy state of mind.

A few days were passed in anxious watchings, and most delightful con versation, when I was summoned to witness the closing scene. Never shall I forget that hour of trial-I had stood by the dying bed before, and tried to sympathize with afflicted mourners, but now I saw my own beloved father, sinking in death. His faithful preaching, his godly coun sels, and his earnest prayers arose before me, and for a moment I could not say, "Thy will be done," I was not prepared to give up such a

parent, and to feel that I could hear his kind voice no more on earth.— But when I saw him sinking so calmly into his rest—even like the infant sinking into its sweet evening slumber-and when I had the most abundant evidence that he was on the very verge of heaven, and would soon be among the glorified before the throne, I dared not breathe another wish to detain him a single moment from his long sought rest. On the 19th of April, 1833, without a struggle or a groan, he sweetly slept in Jesus.

"So fades the summer cloud away,

So sinks the gale when storms are o'er,

So gently shuts the eye of day,

So dies the wave along the shore."

The funeral services were appropriate, solemn, and instructive, and were witnessed by a large assembly, who had come as honest mourners, to follow the aged minister of Christ to the grave. The evening after the burial was one of great tenderness and solemnity, and yet of great joy to the stricken family. For a moment we were sad, as we saw the vacant chair, and felt our irreparable loss, but as we clustered around the altar of prayer, and thought of a part of our little band in heaven, and saw the guiding hand of our heavenly Father, joy took the place of sorrow, and we were constrained to praise God for his goodness.

A GENTLE HINT.

AN eminently Christian lady, now in heaven, once administered a very salutary reproof to a minister who was too frequently in the practice of shewing a bitter spirit towards his fellow Christians. He was dining at the table of her husband, also a minister, and dealt out his accusatory and acrimonious remarks to all around him, and at length, with an air and tone of rudeness, turned to her, and said, "Well, now, madam, I am determined to have your opinion." She very calmly replied, "Why, sir, I had rather be excused from giving it." He rejoined, "But we must and will have it, for we live in times in which all ought to shew their colors." "Well, sir," she replied, "then my opinion is this,-that gentlemen had better keep their razors to shave their own faces, and not employ them to cut and slash every body who does not think exactly as they do. I also think, sir, that Paul judged the same when he said to Titus, 'Put them in mind to speak evil of no man, to be no brawlers, but gentle, shewing meekness to all men.'" The gentleman soon after

retired.

B.

FEMALE CORRESPONDENCE.

EVIL OF HASTILY AFFIXING RELIGIOUS NAMES, ILLUSTRATED.

I AM the daughter and widow of a clergyman, and was carefully instructed both by my father and husband in those doctrines which were delivered by Christ and his Apostles. About twelve months ago I had the heavy misfortune to lose my husband, whose affection had endeared him to me, and whose piety and benevolence had entitled him to the respect and esteem of his flock. He was succeeded by a gentleman whose behavior both in and out of the pulpit does credit to his character and profession. He has the strongest claim upon my gratitude, not only for his kindness to me, but for the respectful terms in which he constantly mentions my deceased husband; yet he has been the cause of more uneasiness to me than I ever experienced from any other quarter. The circumstance to which I allude is this: about a fortnight ago, after a long conversation with him on religious subjects, he concluded with saying, with a most impressive seriousness, I am sorry, my good lady, to find that you are an Arminian. Before I had time to recover from my surprise at this unexpected observation and the tone in which it was made, the entrance of some visitors prevented my asking the meaning of it. Our pastor took his leave, and has since been absent from town on business of pressing importance, which will probably detain him some weeks. My anxiety, however, to obtain a solution of what had so much perplexed me, induced me to ask an explanation from a friend; but all the information which I could obtain from him was, that our pastor was a Calvinist, and if I wished to know what this, or the term Arminian meant, he recommended me to write to the editor of the Baptist Memorial. Of the person to whom I was thus referred I professed ignorance, but my friend assured me that such a person existed, and that if I would address a letter to him he would undertake to forward it.

Now, sir, what I am most anxious to know is this, whether the epithet Arminian implies that I am not a christian; for nothing, I confess, would give me deeper concern than to be considered by so respectable a person as our pastor, as ignorant of the doctrines, or inattentive to the duties of christianity. The doctrines which I have learned from my father and husband are these: that there is an inherent depravity in man, which can only be subdued by the operation of divine grace; that on this account he is estranged from God, until he is renewed by the sanctifying influence of the Holy Spirit; that Christ our Saviour died for the sins of the world, and that we are redeemed and saved by his death solely