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with the baptized being presumed by the apostles to be sincere believers. 2ndly. It is a great misconception, we think, to suppose that a gradual enlightenment of the apostles was inconsistent with their inspiration. The consultation at Jerusalem shews that they possessed an inspired practical and experimental judgment, as we may term it, by which, as cases occurred, they reasoned and decided, with divinely strengthened and enlightened faculties, faculties acting, nevertheless, after the ordinary laws of our minds. ference is, that in their apostolic "wisdom" they would see intuitively what practical cases required, and when there was no need to examine minutely previously, they of course would not do so. As circumstances were modified they might think more care needful. Many of all parties think 1 Pet. iii. 23 at least, evidence that they did so. 3rdly. We remark, what we hinted at in our first observation, that the presumption in all cases, at first, was in favour of the faith of the applicants being such as "accompanies salvation." That every "believer in the Messiahship of Jesus at that time, might as safely be presumed to have the root of a divine life in him, as the generality of those received into the churches "of that denomination to which Mr. Noel now belongs," or of those to which Mr. Gamble now belongs.

It comes strikingly in corroboration of this statement, that, from the resurrection of Christ to Paul's imprisonment, no distinction whatever can be traced in the Acts of the Apostles of two classes of disciples; of disciples not church members and not communicants, and of disciples who were both. In no part of his book does Mr. G. more deplorably fail than in the effort to distinguish between the baptized and the communicants; here, indeed, he has appealed to his "imagination for his facts." Of course, he endeavours to exclude any allusion whatever to the Lord's Supper from the Acts of the Apostles; and "breaking of bread" can mean nothing so solemn, since disciples assembled to do that! How different the unbiassed impression of devout readers of this book hitherto. To them it has appeared that a class of men who, at Antioch (xi. 26-29), were called christians, and who sent relief to the poor disciples at Jerusalem (compare Matt. xxv. 34—40), "who were filled with joy and the Holy Ghost" (xiii. 52),-not to enumerate the

facts stated of them in so many other passages, that such men must be sincere, real believers, and their assemblies as worthy of the name of christian churches as any since those times. Above all single circumstances, how striking the remark (Acts ix. 26), that "all the disciples feared Paul, and believed not that he was a disciple." When they did believe that, their fears were hushed. It could not, therefore, be the case that disciples were baptized in those days as in the intermediate dispensation previous to our Lord's death, otherwise discipleship would not have given such confidence. This passage alone would suffice to shew, not only the “genuineness" of the faith presumed to belong to discipleship, but that it was understood to belong to it even at that early time. The scheme of baptized non-communicants, or nonmembers, is most assuredly a figment of post-apostolic and comparatively modern times.

The question, whether disciples were all members or not, concerns the Pædobaptist congregationalists as much as it does us. If "the disciples" in the Acts were not presumed to be converted men, both we and they must admit confessedly unconverted men as church members. Hence, with Mr. Gamble's views, he ought to join the Anglican church, and renounce all attempts to preserve church purity.

Taking the commission and the cases in the Acts together, Mr. Gamble is certain "that persons are to be baptized at the commencement of their discipleship;" to which we reply, granted; yes, rejoins Mr. G., but you do not make a right use of the fact. "All serious applicants are to be baptized at the commencement of their discipleship;" therefore, all babes who can make no application, either seriously or hypocritically, are to be baptized too! All persons "believing in the Messiahship of Christ, and acknowledging his claims to be their Lord, so far as to be willing to profess it in baptism, are to be baptized;" therefore, babes who know nothing of the Messiah or his claims, are to be baptized too! We own we cannot make this use of the baptism of "serious applicants," "believers," even in Mr. Gamble's "low sense" of the word. A sense, moreover, we do not think, critically, natural to the passages in dispute. The leap, too, is prodigious indeed from a "serious applicant," &c. to a babe. Yes, says Mr. G.; but there is no definite time

when the instruction of infants commences, therefore they ought to be baptized at the earliest practicable period, that the baptism may precede all instruction. It is obvious to remark, how ill this view assorts with that of baptizing unbelievers' children, for which Mr. Gamble so determinedly argues. They are not "disciples" even in his "low sense."

The "baptizing of unbelievers' babes into discipleship," is, indeed, a perfect gambling transaction, since it must be a mere lottery chance whether they shall ever gain the precious prize of christian instruc

tion or not.

The truth, however, is, that we do not recollect a passage in heathen Greek or scripture Greek in which infants are designated by the term "disciples." In childhood discipleship may commence. Voluntary and intelligent reception of the elementary truths to be further explained, being, so far as we know, always essential to the idea of a disciple. Indeed, we believe the Greek word for disciple is but rarely applied to schoolboys or children still under "the schoolmaster" or naidaywyos (Gal. iii. 25). Etymologically it refers to a kind of learning deemed, in early times, appropriate to youths and adults; and in use (the great arbiter of the meaning of words) it was assuredly applied daily to those who attended on philosophers, sophists, and rhetoricians. On the contrary, we never find the term vno, "infants" (Gal.iv. 1) or maidεvrol, “taught children," applied to the baptized. Why was a word selected which, to a Greek ear, naturally suggested the adult and believing attendant on some philosopher, if it was not intended to designate the baptized, as adult and believing followers of the Great Teacher ?

We cannot conclude without mentioning Mr. G.'s unfairness to Mr. Noel, in one remarkable instance. He is astonished at Mr. N.'s suppressing a remark of Neander's, respecting Irenæus, which would be favourable to Infant Baptism. Would it be believed that he is twice or thrice guilty of similar suppression? He quotes Neander's testimony to Origen's diligence as an investigator, because Origen says, that Infant Baptism was an apostolic tradition;" but he suppresses Neander's remark on the little value of his opinion on this point,-1st. because it fell in with one of Origen's fanciful theories, to wit, that human souls are fallen heavenly essences, to be cleansed from a guilt which they brought with them. 2ndly. Because in his

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age it was the custom to trace every institution of importance to the apostles. 3rdly. Because many walls of separation in his age had been set up, hindering the freedom of prospect into the apostolic age. The other case is the omission, respecting Tertullian, that he would not have dared to oppose Infant Baptism had it been the church practice of his much earlier age. The truth of this observation is obvious to every one who has read this noble, though frequently fanciful, father. Olshausen, again, he quotes on the commission, as far as suits him; but omits his remark, "Nevertheless, the connection of 'disciple them' with baptizing and teaching, shews, unmistakeably, that our Lord, in these words, did not think first of all, on Infant Baptism." We do not attempt to fight Mr. Noel's battle however. Mr. N. may safely admit that in the apostolic age "all serious applicants as believers in the Messiahship of Jesus were baptized," and compare them with the class spiritually parallel now. He may also ask Mr. G. why, objecting to allow us a credible faith, he himself adds "seriousness" to his "application," thus introducing at least a moral restriction on the commission. Mr. Gamble must take Dr. Halley's argument entirely or not at all;-no limitations-or those of Baptists.

Mr. Noel's excellent and conclusive little essay, with that of Mr. Mills, who merely numbers arguments without weighing them, we must defer till April.

THE PASTOR'S WIFE; A MEMOIR OF MRS. SHERMAN, OF SURREY CHAPEL. BY HER HUSBAND. Second Edition. Pp. 375. London: Charles Gilpin.

We are gratified, though not surprised, to find on our table the second edition of this truly interesting narrative. Mr. Sherman has correctly stated in the preface the advantages and disadvantages under which a husband is placed in writing the memoir of a beloved wife; and we quite agree with him (indeed the whole volume is a delightful illustration of his remarks), that her "husband knew her best,-had far greater opportunities than any of her friends, of observing her steady walk with God,-her loving and Christ-like spirit,-her amiable deportment to all her circle of friends or dependants, and her self-denying and useful efforts to win souls to her Saviour."

The volume will be equally interesting to those in better, and to those in humbler, circumstances; to the former as the class

linked in friendship with a young man who was perpetually being quizzed for his religion; to be pinned to his coat-sleeve, as their fellows would have said; perhaps to be called old Herbert-the idea was too monstrous. The sneering smile conquered him. He hastened to disclaim the dreadful notion that he was engaged to hear a sermon, or to any of old Thompson's whimsical resorts; and after a faint resistance, he yielded his early prejudices, and disobeyed his father's affectionate injunctions. He went that night only for once, as he protested in secret to old Thompson. But no one should say, or think, "I will do what my conscience tells me I ought not to do, only once; I will not repel this temptation with all my strength; but I will exert all my powers against it next time." In spite of his misgivings, Herbert was fascinated with the amusement; no arguments nor eneers were needed to prompt him to a second visit; and before long he became the inviter, rather than the invited.

And what harm was there in it? Much,

in many ways. By giving way to the allurements of the theatre, the weak-minded young man soon lost all relish for the business in which he was engaged. Day-books and ledgers were dull things, and to be writing all day long was tiresome work; and the consequence was, that Herbert became negligent of his duty, and made so many blunders in his books, as to call forth the frequent reprimands of his employer.

Then these frequent visits to the theatre broke into his proper hours of rest, and consumed a large part of the money that he received. Sleepless nights after the dissipation of the evening, gave Herbert many a day's head-ache; and an exhausted purse gave him many an hour's heart-ache, which no remembrance of past pleasures, nor anticipation of future ones, could send away.

Conscience could not always be lulled to sleep in Herbert's breast. Although he tried to persuade himself that he was pursuing a very innocent amusement, he knew better than this. He could not but feel that very unholy passions were excited within him by what he heard and witnessed; that his remaining reverence for the Bible and the Sabbath was very fast diminishing; and that, in addition to this, he had made light of the injunctions of a father who loved him dearly, and sought only his advantage in the restrictions he had laid down. It was under the influence of depressing thoughts

such as these, that Herbert, more than once, said to himself, "I will never go to the theatre again." But then, if he were to refuse to go, he should be laughed at!" This was too dreadful to be borne. To be called or thought a coward-it was not to be endured; so he acted the coward in reality.

But it was not in one particular alone that Herbert gave up his better judgment to the guidauce and control of others, lest he should be thought a coward.

"Nonsense!" shouted a gay companion, in his ears, one Sunday morning; "you are not going to mope away your time in psalm-singing to-day? Leave that to old Thompson, my hearty, or go to church when the sun does not shine. See what a glorious day it is for a good stroll out of this smoky hole. Come, what do you say? Where shall we go? Hornsey? Greenwich? Primrose-hill ?"

"I-I really cannot go with you to-day, I have a particular engagement;" stammered Herbert.

"Ah, I thought old Thompson had been at you; but you must give him the go-by for once."

"I cannot, indeed," replied Herbert in a rueful tone.

"But you must, I tell you;"- and so he did; for it was more terrible by half to be called "old Thompson's shadow," than to break an engagement, and the Sabbath into the bargain. He was brave enough to do the latter, but he had not courage to bear the former. So the day-the first of a long series of mis-spent Sabbaths-was passed in pleasure seeking. A steamboat conveyed the young men to Richmond; and the beautiful trees and green grass of Richmond-hill-so like his own dear native village scenery, and so unlike the grim blackness of London-reconciled poor Herbert to the violence done to his deadened conscience. Strange that the thoughts of home stirred up by country scenes, should not have reminded him of Sabbath employments at home. Perhaps they did; but he soon got rid of the unwelcome guests.

Incited by one evil companion especially, and by others in a less degree, Herbert soon learned to mock at sin, and to laugh at his former scruples as unmanly and absurd. Having allowed himself to be tempted to walk in the counsel of the ungodly, and to stand in the way of sinners, he at length sat in the seat of the scornful (Psa. i. 1).

Three years of pleasure-seeking and sabbath-breaking had hardened his heart against the reproaches of conscience, and made him indifferent to all beside, so that he stood well in the opinion of his unworthy false friends. And yet there were times when Herbert was not at ease with himself, when he would have given much to recal the past, when he had some faint wishes, at least, that he had given heed to the admonition, "If sinners entice thee, consent thou not." But the chains of habit were around him, and the allurements of evil were becoming stronger and stronger.

"Drink, drink, my boy, and drown your care!" Herbert had already drunk enough to bewilder his brain; but not half enough to drown his care. He had that on his mind at this particular time which defied the power of wine and song. His irregularities had, that day, drawn upon him the severest rebukes of his employer; and the threat of dismissal was hanging over his head. He had received a letter from home, in which his father affectionately remonstrated with him respecting some improprieties which had reached his ears; and urging him, by all the hopes which had once been formed of him, to forsake the paths of false pleasure, and return to the God of his mercies.

"I will return," was Herbert's first resolution, on reading that letter. "I will spend this evening alone, and in prayer."

The evening came, and found him in a tavern, with two of his dissolute companions. It would be cowardly-so reasoned the evil principle in his heart-to quail beneath the frowns of a precise old fellow like his employer, or to be melted into tenderness by a few soft words in a letter: besides, if he were to shew signs of such weakness, should he not be laughed at? He would bear any thing rather than that.

But Herbert had another cause for anxiety, which will presently appear.

"Drink, and drown your care," repeated one of his friends, seeing that he passed the bottle without filling his glass.

"I believe I have had enough," replied poor Herbert.

"Not a bit of it; why, you look like a rated hound. What can be the matter with you ?"

Herbert stammered out part of his 'trouble.

"Is that all ?" said his tempter. "Then let us drink the old fellow's health in a bumper. Off with it, man. And suppose you do lose your situation; there are as good to be got, and better too, for asking. Look at me, now; why, when he slipped me off so unhandsomely, all I had to do was to step into the next street: better salary, more liberty, more life, and all that. Send you away! much good may it do him. I half wish he would, for your sake. Come, another glass, my lad."

It was very true that Herbert's former fellow clerk, having been dismissed from one counting-house for gross negligence, had speedily found another open for him. Herbert knew this before; and being now reminded of it, he began to think lightly of his own precarious standing with his employer. But Herbert did not know that his friend had already tired out his new employers; that he was on the brink of an exposure which must inevitably ruin his character; and that he was, at that very moment, seeking Herbert's co-operation in a scheme for his own escape, which, if it failed, would involve the hapless youth likewise in the same ruin.

"By the way, Herbert," he said; "suppose we change the subject. I owe you five pounds; do you want it just now ?"

Indeed Herbert did want it; and one of the causes of his gloom was, that his last quarter's salary had almost entirely disappeared, and that demands from more than one of his creditors had that very day been pressed upon him-demands which he had no means of satisfying. He had dreaded to remind his friend of this long-standing debt, lest he should be called mercenary. He was overjoyed, therefore, when the subject was introduced by that friend himself.

"If you can let me have it," replied Herbert, with alacrity, "I shall be very glad of it; for, to tell the truth, I am bored to death with and; and I shall have nothing to receive for the next month."

"How very unfortunate !" was the rejoinder. "Now I have been hoping all along that you might have another five pounds to spare for a week or two, till my day comes round. And you really are

worked out?"

"Not ten shillings left," sighed Herbert. "That purse of yours that you pulled out just now seemed too heavy for ten shillings," remarked the tempter, with a little degree of sharpness. "But perhaps