PART I.

THEODOSIA ERNEST

Complete in Two Volumes

By

A. C. Dayton

CONTENTS

• Volume I: The Heroine of Faith

• Introduction

• The First Night’s Study

• The Second Night’s Study

• The Third Night’s Study

• The Fourth Night’s Study

• The Fifth Night’s Study

• The Sixth Night’s Study

• The Seventh Night’s Study

• The Day After the Seventh Night

• The Eighth Night’s Study

• The Ninth Night’s Study

• The Tenth Night’s Study

• A Dream

• Preface

• Notice Of Theodosia

• Chapter I. A Dream

• Chapter II

• Footnotes

• Volume II: Ten Days’ Travel in Search of the Church

• Contents (Original)

• Introduction

• First Day’s Travel

• Second Day’s Travel

• Third Day’s Travel

• Fourth Day’s Travel

• Fifth Day’s Travel

• Sixth Day’s Travel

• Seventh Day’s Travel

• Eighth Day’s Travel

• Ninth Day’s Travel

• Tenth Day’s Travel

• Footnotes

• Volume I Index

• Volume II Index

THEODOSIA ERNEST;

OR

THE HEROINE OF FAITH.

By

A. C. Dayton.

Vol. I.

Memphis, Tenn.:

South-Western Publishing House.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1866, by R. B.

Davidson, In the District Court of the United States for the Middle

District of Tennessee.

Theodosia Ernest:

Or, The Heroine of Faith.

INTRODUCTION.

DOUBTS SUGGESTED.

“Mother, have I ever been baptized?” The questioner was a bright,

intelligent, blue-eyed lad, some thirteen summers old. The deep

seriousness of his countenance, and the earnest, wistful gaze with which

he looked into his mother’s face, showed that, for the moment at least,

the question seemed to him a very important one.

“Certainly, my son; both you and your sister were baptized by the Rev.

Doctor Fisher, at the time when I united with the church. Your sister

remembers it well, for she was six years old; but you were too young to

know any thing about it. Your Aunt Jones said it was the most solemn

scene she ever witnessed; and such a prayer as the good old doctor made

for you, I never heard before.”

“But, mother,” rejoined the lad, “sister and I have been down to the

river to see a lady baptized by the Baptist minister, who came here last

month and commenced preaching in the school-house. They went down into

the river, and then he plunged her under the water, and quickly raised

her out again; and sister says if _that_ was baptism, then we were not

baptized, because we stood on the dry floor of the church, and the

preacher dipped his hand into a bowl of water, and sprinkled a few drops

on our foreheads: and she says Cousin John Jones was not baptized

either; for the preacher only took a little pitcher of water, and poured

a little stream upon his head. Sister says she don’t see how there can

be _three baptisms_, when the Scripture says, ‘_One_ Lord, one faith,

one baptism.’”

“Your sister is always studying about things above her reach, my son. It

is better for young people like you not to trouble yourselves too much

about these knotty questions in theology.”

“But, mother, this don’t seem to me to be a knotty question at all. One

minister takes a person down into the water, and dips her under it;

another stands on the dry floor of the church before the pulpit, and

sprinkles a few drops into her face; another pours a little stream upon

her head. Now, anybody can see that they do _three different things_;

and if each of them is baptism, then there must be three baptisms. There

is no theology about that, is there?”

“Yes, my child, this is a theological question, and I suppose it must be

a very difficult one, since I am told that some very good and wise men

disagree about it.”

“But, mother, they all agree that there is only one baptism, do they

not? And if there is only one, why don’t they just look into the

Testament and see what it is? If the Testament says sprinkle, then it is

sprinkling; if it says pour, then it is pouring; if it says dip, then it

is dipping. I mean to read the Testament, and see if I cannot decide

which it is for myself.”

“Do you think, my son, that you will be able to know as much about it as

your Uncle Jones, or Dr. Fisher, who baptized you, or Dr. Barnes, whose

notes you use in learning your Sunday-school lesson, and all the pious

and learned ministers of our church, and the Methodist Church, and the

Episcopal Church? They have studied the Testament through and through,

and they all agree that a child who is sprinkled is properly baptized.”

“Yes, mother, but if the baptisms in the New Testament were sprinkling

(and of course they were, or such wise and good men would not say so),

why can’t _I find it there, as well as anybody?_”

“Very well, my son, you can read and see; but if you should happen to

come to a different conclusion from these great and learned men, I hope

you won’t set up your boyish judgment against that of the wisest

theologians of the age. But here comes your sister. I wonder if she is

going to become a theologian too!”

Mrs. Ernest (the mother of whom we are speaking) was born of very worthy

parents, who were consistent members of the Presbyterian Church; and she

had grown up as one of the “baptized children of the church.” As she

“appeared to be sober and steady, and to have sufficient knowledge to

discern the Lord’s body,” she was doubtless informed, according to the

directions of the confession of faith, page 504, that it was “her duty

and her privilege to come to the Lord’s supper.” But she had felt no

inclination to do so until after the death of her husband. Then, in the

day of her sorrow, she looked upward, and began to feel a new, though

not an intense interest in the things of religion. She made a public

profession, and requested baptism for her two children.

The little boy was then an infant and his sister was about six years

old, a sprightly, interesting child, whose flowing ringlets, dimpled

chin, rosy cheeks, and sparkling eyes, were the admiration of every

beholder.

Twelve years had passed. The lovely girl had become a beautiful and

remarkably intelligent young lady. The little babe had grown into the

noble looking, blue-eyed lad, with a strong, manly frame, and a face and

brow which gave promise of capacity and independence of thought far

above the average of his companions.

Theodosia and Edwin. How they loved each other! She, with the doting

affection of an elder child and only sister, who had watched the

earliest developments of his mind, and been his companion and his

teacher from his infancy; he, with the confiding, reverential, yet

familiar love of a kind-hearted and impulsive boy, to one who was to him

the standard at once of female beauty and womanly accomplishments.

Theodosia came in, not with that elastic step and sprightly air which

was habitual with her, but with a slow and solemn gait; scarcely raising

her eyes to meet her mother’s inquiring gaze, she passed through to her

own room, and closed the door.

The mother was struck with the deep and earnest seriousness of her face

and manner. What could it mean? What _could_ have happened to distress

her child?

“Edwin, my son, what is the matter with your sister?”

“Indeed, mother, I do not know of any thing. We stood together talking

at the river bank, and just before we left, Mr. Percy came up to walk

home with her. It must be something that has happened by the way.”

The mother’s mind was relieved. Mr. Percy had been for many months a

frequent and welcome visitor at their pretty cottage, and had made no

secret of his admiration of her accomplished and beautiful daughter;

though he had never, until a few weeks since, formally declared his

love. Mrs. Ernest did not doubt but that some lovers’ quarrel had grown

up in their walk, and this had cast a shadow upon Theodosia’s sunny

face. She waited somewhat impatiently for her daughter to come out and

confirm her conjectures. She did not come, however, and at length the

mother arose, and softly opening the door, looked into the room.

Theodosia was on her knees. She did not hear the door, or become

conscious of the presence of her mother. In broken, whispered sentences,

mingled with sobs, she prayed: “Oh, Lord, enlighten my mind. Oh, teach

me thy way. Let me not err in the understanding of thy word; and oh give

me strength, I do beseech thee, to do whatever I find to be my duty. I

would not go wrong. Help! oh help me to go right!”

Awe-struck and confounded, Mrs. Ernest drew back, and tremblingly

awaited the explanation she so much desired to hear.

When at length the young lady came out, there was still upon her face

the same serious earnestness of expression, but there seemed less of

sadness, and there was also that perfect repose of the countenance,

which is the result of a newly formed, but firmly settled determination

of purpose.

Mrs. Ernest, as she looked at her, was more perplexed than ever. She

was, however, resolved to obtain at once a solution of the mystery.

“Mr. Percy walked home with you, did he not, my daughter?”.

“Yes, mother.”

“Did you find him as interesting as usual? What was the subject of your

conversation?”

“We were talking of the baptism at the river.”

“Of nothing else?”

“No, mother; this occupied all the time.”

“Did he say nothing about himself?”

“Not a word, mother, except in regard to the question whether he had

ever been baptized.”

“Why, what in the world has possessed you all? Your brother came running

home to ask me if _he_ had been baptized; Mr. Percy is talking about

whether _he_ has been baptized. I wonder if you are not beginning to

fancy that you have never been baptized?”

“I do indeed begin to doubt it, mother; for if _that_ was baptism which

we witnessed at the river this evening, I am quite sure that I never

was.”

“Well, I do believe that Baptist preacher is driving you all crazy. Pray

tell me, what did he do or say, that gave you such a serious face, and

put these new crotchets in your head?”

“Nothing at all, mother, He simply read from the New Testament the

account of the baptism of Jesus and of the Eunuch. Then he took the

candidate, and they went down both of them into the water, and he

baptized her, and then they came up out of the water. I could not help

seeing that this is just what is recorded of Jesus and the Eunuch. If

so, then it is the baptism of the Scriptures; and it is certainly a

_very different thing_ from that which was done to me, when Dr. Fisher

sprinkled a few drops of water in my face.”

“Of course, my dear, it was different; but I don’t think the _quantity

of water_ employed affects the validity of the baptism. There is no

virtue in the water, and a few drops are just as good as all the floods

of Jordan.”

“But, mother, it is not in the quantity of water that the difference

consists; it is in the _act_ performed. One _sprinkles_ a little water

in the face; another _pours_ a little water on the head; another

_buries_ the whole body under the water and raises it out again. Two

apply the water to the person, the other plunges the person into the

water. They are surely very different acts: and if what I saw this

evening was scriptural baptism, then it is certain that I have never

been baptized.”

“Well, my child, we won’t dispute about it now; but I hope you are not

thinking about leaving your own church; the church in which your

grandfather and your grandmother lived and died: and in which so many of

the most talented and influential families in the country are proud to

rank themselves, to unite with this little company of ignorant,

ill-mannered mechanics and common people, who have all at once started

up here from nothing.”

“You know, my mother, that it is about a year since I made a profession

of religion. I trust that before I did so, I had given myself up to do

the will of my Heavenly Father. Since then I have felt that I am not my

own. I am bought with a price. It is my pleasure, as well as my duty, to

obey my Saviour I ask, as Paul did, Lord, what wilt _thou_ have me to

do? You taught me this lesson of obedience yourself; and I am sure you

would not have me on any account neglect or refuse to obey my Saviour.

If HE commands me to be baptized, and the command has never been obeyed,

_I shall be obliged to do it._ And I trust my mother will encourage me

in my obedience to that precious Redeemer she taught me to love.”

One who looked into the mother’s face, at that moment, might have read

there “a tablet of unutterable thoughts.” She did not try to speak them.

We will not try to write them. She sat silent for a moment, drew her

breath deeply and heavily, then rising hastily, went to look for

something in her daughter’s room.

Theodosia was not only grieved but surprised at the evident distress

which she had given her mother. While on her knees in prayer to God

after her return from the river, she had determined _to do her duty_,

and obey the _commandment_ of Jesus Christ, her blessed Saviour,

whatever she might find it to be. But she had _not_ determined to be

_immersed_. That river baptism, connected with the reading of those

passages of Scripture, had only filled her mind with doubts; these

doubts had yet to become convictions. The investigation was yet to be

made. The question, Have I ever been baptized? had been prayerfully

asked. It was yet to be conscientiously answered. But if the very doubt

was so distressing to her mother, and so ridiculous to Mr. Percy (as it

had seemed to be from some remarks he made on the way home from the

river), how would the final decision affect them, if it should be made

in favor of immersion! Yet, aided by power from on high, she felt her

resolution grow still stronger to please God rather than those whom she

loved better than all else on earth. _And she had peace_ verging almost

on joy.

When her mother came back, Theodosia saw that she had been weeping; but

no further allusion was made to the subject of Baptism, until Mr. Percy

came in after supper.

This young man was a lawyer. He had united with the Presbyterian

Society, to which Mrs. Ernest and her daughter belonged, during an

extensive revival of religion, while he was yet a mere boy. Since he had

come to years of maturity, he had constantly doubted whether he was

really a converted man, and often seriously regretted the obligation

that bound him to a public recognition of the claims of personal

religion. He often made it convenient to be absent when the Sacrament of

the Supper was to be celebrated, from an inward consciousness that he

was an unfit communicant; yet his external deportment was

unexceptionable, and his brethren regarded him as a most excellent

member, and one whose intellectual capacity and acquirements would, one

day, place him in a condition to reflect great honor on the denomination

to which he belonged.

He had already taken a high position in the ranks of his profession; and

had come to the sage conclusion, that the possession of the heart and

hand of the charming Theodosia was all that was required to complete his

arrangements for worldly happiness; and having overheard her remark to

her brother, that if what they had just witnessed was baptism, they had

never been baptized, he hastened to her side, and on their way home

exerted all his powers of raillery to drive this new conception from her

mind.

As for himself, he had never had a serious thought upon the question. He

had been _told_ that he was baptized in his infancy, and took it for

granted that all was right. He had very serious doubts about his ever

having been converted, but never the shadow of a doubt whether he had

been baptized. When he listened to the religious conversation of some of

his friends, and especially of the young lady of whom we are speaking,

he heard many expressions, which, to him, were meaningless, and seemed

almost fanatical. They talked of sorrows which he had never felt; of

joys, the source of which he could not understand; and strangest of all,

to him, appeared that habitual subjection to the _Master’s will_, which

led them to ask so constantly, and so earnestly, not what was desirable

to themselves or agreeable to those about them, but _what was required_

by the command of Christ.

That one should do this, or that, under the conviction that to refuse or

neglect to do so would endanger their _soul’s salvation_, he could

easily understand; but how any one could attach much importance to any

act _not absolutely essential_ to obtain eternal life, was to his mind

an unfathomable mystery, He had himself determined to secure his _own

soul’s salvation_ at any cost, and if he had believed that immersion

would _insure salvation_, he would have been immersed a hundred times,

had so much been required. But thinking it as easy to get to heaven

without, as with it, the whole business of baptism seemed to him as of

the slightest imaginable consequence.

“What difference does it make to you, Miss Ernest,” said he, “whether

you have been baptized or not? Baptism is not essential to salvation.”

“True,” she replied; “but if my Saviour _commanded_ me to be baptized,

and I have never done it, I have not obeyed him. I must, so far as I

can, keep _all_ his commandments.”

“But who of us ever does this? I am sure I have not kept them all. I am

not certain that I know what they all are. If our salvation depended on

perfect obedience to all his commandments, I doubt if any body would be

saved but you. You are the only person I ever knew who had no faults.”

“Oh! Mr. Percy, do not trifle with such a subject. It is not a matter of

jesting. I do not perfectly obey. I wish I could. I am grieved at heart

day after day to see how far I fall short of his requirements. Oh, no. I

do not hope or seek for salvation by my obedience. If I am ever saved,

it will be by boundless mercy freely forgiving me. But then, _if I love

my Saviour_, how can I wilfully refuse _obedience_ to _his

requirements_? I do not obey to _secure heaven_ by my obedience, but to

please him who died to make it possible for a poor lost sinner like me

ever to enter heaven. I think I would endeavor to do his will, even if

there were no heaven and no hell.”

Mr. Percy did not understand this. If _he_ had been convinced that there

was no heaven and no hell, he felt quite sure that all the rites, and

rules, and ceremonies of religion would give _him_ very little trouble.

It was only in order _to save his soul_ that he meddled with religion at

all; and all that could be dispensed with, without endangering _his own_

final salvation, he regarded as of very little consequence. He read some

portion of the Scriptures almost every day (when business was not too

pressing). He said over a form of prayer; and sometimes went to the

communion table, because he regarded these as religious duties, in the

performance of which, and by leading a moral life, he had some

indistinct conception that _he was working out for himself eternal

salvation_. Take away this one object, and he had no further use for

religion, or religious ordinances.

“I know,” said he, “that you are a more devoted Christian than I ever

hope to be, but you surely cannot regard baptism as any part of

religion. It is a mere form. A simple ceremony. Only an outward act of

the _body_ not affecting the heart or the mind. Why even the Baptists

themselves, though they talk so much about it, and attach so much

importance to it, admit that true believers can be saved without it.”

“That is not the question in my mind, Mr. Percy. I do not ask whether

_it is essential to salvation_, but whether _it is commanded in the Word

of God_. I do not feel at liberty to sin as much as I can, without

abandoning the hope that God will finally forgive me. I cannot think of

following my Saviour as far off as I can, without resigning my hopes of

heaven. Why should I venture as near the verge of hell as I can go

without falling in? My Saviour died upon the cross for my salvation. I

trust in HIM to save me. But he says, ‘If ye _love_ me, keep my

commandments’—not this one or that one, but _all_ his commandments. How

can I pretend to love, if I do not obey him? If he commands me to be

baptized, and I have not done it, _I must do it yet_. And if _that_

which we saw at the river was baptism, then I have never been baptized.”

“And so you think that all the learned world are wrong, and this

shoemaker, turned preacher, is right; that our parents are no better

than heathens, and a young lady of eighteen is bound to teach them their

duty, and set them a good example. Really it will be a feast to the poor

Baptists to know what a triumph they have gained. It will be considered

quite respectable to be immersed after Miss Theodosia Ernest has gone

into the water.”

“Oh, Mr. Percy,” said the young lady (and her eyes were filled with

tears), “how can you talk thus lightly of an ordinance of Jesus Christ?

Was it not respectable to be immersed after the glorious Son of God had

gone into the water? If my dear Redeemer was immersed, and requires it

of me, I am sure I need not hesitate to associate with those who follow

_his_ example and obey _his_ commandments, even though they should be

poor, and ignorant, and ungenteel.”

“Forgive me, Miss Ernest, I did not intend to offend you; but really the

idea did appear exceedingly ridiculous to me, that a young lady who had

never spent a single month in the exclusive study of theology, should

set herself up so suddenly as a teacher of Doctors of Divinity. If

sprinkling were not baptism, we surely have talent, and piety, and

learning enough in our church to have discovered the error and abandoned

the practice long ago. But pardon me. I will not say one word to

dissuade you from an investigation of the subject. And I am very sure,

when you have studied it carefully, you will be more thoroughly

convinced than ever before of the truth of our doctrines, and the

correctness of our practice. If you will permit, I will assist you in

the examination; for I wish to look into the subject a little to fortify

my own mind with some arguments against these new comers, as I

understand there are several others of our members who are almost as

nearly convinced that they have never been baptized as you are, and I

expect to be obliged to have an occasional discussion, in a quiet way.”

“Oh, yes. I shall be so happy to have your assistance. You are so much

more capable of eliciting the truth than I am. When shall we begin?”

“To-night, if you please. I will call in after supper, and we will read

over the testimony.”

They parted at her mother’s door. He went to his office, revolving in

his mind the arguments that would be most likely to satisfy her doubts.

She retired to her closet and poured out her heart to God in earnest

prayer for wisdom to _know_, and strength to _do_ all her Heavenly

Master’s will, whatever it might be; and before she rose from her knees,

had been enabled to resolve, with full determination of purpose, to obey

the commandment, even though it caused the loss of all things for

Christ. The only question in her heart was now, “Lord, what wilt _thou_

have me to do?”

True to his promise, Mr. Percy came in soon after supper, anticipating

an easy victory over the doubts and difficulties which had so suddenly

suggested themselves to the mind of his intended bride. He could not

help admiring her more, and loving her better, for that independence of

thought and conscientious regard for right, which made the discussion

necessary; and it gratified his vanity to think how fine a field he

should have to display those powers of argument which he had sedulously

cultivated for the advantage of his professional pursuits.

How he succeeded will be seen in the next chapter.

THE FIRST NIGHT’S STUDY.

The book of testimony.

The question stated.

Meaning of the word baptize as settled by Christ himself.

Value of Lexicons.

A mother’s arguments.

The daughter’s answer.

First Night’s Study.

“Now, Miss Theodosia,” said he, “let us begin by examining the

witnesses. When we have collected all the testimony, we shall be able to

sum up on the case, and you shall bring in the verdict.”

“That is right,” said she, with a smile the first that had illumined her

face since she stood by the water. “‘To the law and to the testimony; if

they speak not according to _this word_, it is because there is no light

in them.’ Here (may it please the court) is the record,” handing him a

well-worn copy of the New Testament.

“Well, how are we to get at the point about which we are at issue? It is

agreed, I believe, that Jesus Christ commanded his disciples in all

ages, to be baptized.”

“Yes, sir, I so understand it.”

“Then it would seem that our question is a very simple one. It is,

whether you and I, and others who, like us, have been sprinkled in their

infancy, have ever been baptized? In other words, _Is the sprinkling of

infants, in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, the baptism

which is required in this book?_”

“That is the question,” she replied. “I merely want to know if I was

ever baptized. I was _sprinkled_ in the church. That lady, to-day, was

_immersed_ into the river. If _she_ was baptized, _I was not_. That is

the point. There is but one baptism. Which is it? the sprinkling or the

dipping?”

“Oh, if that is all, we can soon settle the question. Sprinkling and

pouring and dipping are _all_ baptism. Baptism is the application of

water as a religious ordinance. It don’t matter as to the _mode_ of

application. It may be done one way or another, so that it is done with

the _right design_. I see from what your difficulty has arisen. You have

misapprehended the nature of the word baptize. You have considered it a

specific, rather than a generic term.”

“I don’t know, Mr. Percy, whether I quite comprehend you. My difficulty

arose from a conviction that the baptism, which we witnessed to-day, was

just such a one as is described in the Scriptures, where they _went down

into the water and came up out of the water_—whereas my baptism had

nothing about it that at all resembled the scriptural pattern. Please

don’t try to mystify the subject but let us see which was the real

baptism.”

“I did not design to mystify the subject, but to bring it into a clearer

light. The meaning expressed by some words, is rather a _result_ than an

_act_. If I say to my servant, _go_ down to the office, he may _run_

there, or _walk_ there, or _ride_ there, and he obeys me, equally,

whichever he does—so that he gets there, it is all I require of him.

_Go_, then, is a generic or general word, including a possible variety

of acts. If I say to him, _run_ down to the office, he does not obey

unless he goes in this specified manner. So we call _run_ a _specific_

term. That is very plain, is it not?”

“Certainly, Mr. Percy; I comprehend that.”

“Well, then, I say that baptize _is a generic term_. Jesus Christ said,

baptize all nations. He does not say whether you shall do it by

sprinkling, or pouring, or dipping; so that you attain the end proposed,

you may do it as you please. If he had said, sprinkle all nations; that

is specific, and his ministers must have sprinkled. If he had said

_pour_ upon them with water, that is a specific act, and they must all

have poured. If he had said, dip them in water, then they must all have

dipped. The word would have required it. But he used the general term

baptize, which signifies _any application of water as a religious

ordinance_, and of course it does not matter as to the mode. You may

take your choice.”

“But I should, even in that case,” said she, “feel inclined to choose

the _same mode that HE did_, and which the _early disciples did_. There

must have been some reason for his preference. But how do you determine

that the word baptize is a generic term, as you call it—having three or

four different meanings?”

“Simply by reference to the dictionary. Look at Webster. He is good

authority; is he not. He defines baptism to be the application of water

as a religious ordinance. What more do you want?”

“But, Mr. Percy,” said Edwin, who had been a silent, but very attentive

listener, “the Baptist preacher told Mr. Anxious, the other day, that

baptize and baptism were not English words at all, but the Greek words

_baptizo_ and _baptismos_, transferred into the English Bible and not

translated. He said that King James would not permit the translators to

translate _all_ the words, for fear of disturbing the faith and practice

of the church of England, and so they just kept the Greek word—but if

they had translated it _at all_, it must have read _dip_ or _immerse_

instead of baptize.”

“Very well, Edwin, but it is not likely that the Baptist preacher is

much wiser than Presbyterian preachers, or Methodist preachers, or

Episcopal preachers. If dip had been the necessary, or even the common

meaning of the word, it is very improbable that it would have remained

for this unlearned and obscure sect to have discovered it. Such

statements may do very well to delude their simple followers, but they

cannot be expected to impose upon the educated world.”

“But, Mr. Percy, I have looked up the words in my Greek Lexicon, and I

find _it is just as he said_—Baptizo _does_ mean to immerse. Baptismos

does mean immersion.

“Oh, as to that, I suppose you got hold of a Baptist Lexicon.”

“Well, here it is; Donegon’s Greek Lexicon You can look for yourself.”

Mr. Percy (who, if he was not a thorough Greek scholar, yet knew enough

of the language to read it readily,) glanced at the word where Edwin had

marked it, and ran his eye along the cognate words.

“_Baptizo_—To immerse repeatedly into a liquid, to submerge, to soak

thoroughly, to saturate.

“_Baptisis_ or _Baptismos_, immersion; _Baptisma_, an object immersed;

_Baptistes_, one who immerses; _Baptos_, immersed, dyed _Bapto_ to dip,

to plunge into water, etc.”

He was astonished. The thought had never occurred to him before, that

baptize was not an English, but a Greek word; and that he should look in

the _Greek_ Lexicon, rather than Webster’s Dictionary, to ascertain its

real meaning, _as it occurred in the New Testament_. He turned to the

title page and preface for some evidence that this was a _Baptist_

Lexicon, but learned that it was published under the supervision of some

of the Faculty of the Presbyterian Theological Seminary at Princeton, N.

J.; the very headquarters of orthodox Presbyterianism.

Here was a new phase of the subject. He could only promise to look into

this point more particularly the next day; when, he said, he would

procure several different Lexicons, by different authors, and compare

them with each other.

“In the meantime,” said Theodosia, “there is an idea that strikes my

mind very forcibly; and that is, that _the Saviour himself has fixed_,

by his own act, _the meaning of the word as he employed it_.”

“How so, Miss Theodosia?”

“Just in this way; suppose we admit that it had a dozen meanings before

he used it, and that in other books it has a dozen meanings still, yet

it is certain that _he was baptized_. Now, in HIS BAPTISM a certain

_act_ was performed. It may have been sprinkling, pouring, or dipping;

but whatever it was, that act was what HE meant by baptism. _That act_

was what HE commanded. His disciples _must so have understood it_. He

gave (if I may speak so) a Divine sanction to that meaning. And when the

word was afterward used in reference to his _ordinance_, _it could never

have any other_. If he was immersed, then the question is decided;

baptism is immersion. If he was sprinkled, baptism is sprinkling. If he

was poured upon, baptism is pouring. So we need not trouble ourselves

about the Lexicons, but can get all our information from the Testament

itself.”

“There is a great deal of force in that suggestion, Miss Theodosia. It

is a pity you could not be a lawyer. (And he thought what a partner for

a lawyer she would be, and how happy it was for him that he had been

able to persuade her to promise to become Mrs. Percy.) But while it is

true that we _may_ find all the testimony that we need within the

record, yet it is important that we get at the _real meaning of the

record_. And as that was written in Greek, I see no reason why we should

not seek in the Greek for its true sense. If _baptizo_ means to dip, and

_baptismos_ means a dipping, an immersion, we shall be obliged to rest

our cause upon some other ground. There must, however, be some mistake

about this. I will look into it to-morrow.”

“I do not care what the Lexicons say,” rejoined Theodosia, “I want to

get my instructions entirely out of the word of God. I don’t wish to go

out of the ‘record,’ as you lawyers say.”

“You are right in that; but how are we to learn the meaning of the

record? If any document is brought into court, it is a rule of law,

founded on common sense, that the words which it contains are to be

understood in their most common, every-day sense, according to the usage

of the language in which they are written. Now this document, the New

Testament, it seems, was written in _Greek_, and we are in doubt about

the meaning of one of the _words_. We go to the Lexicon, not for any

testimony as to the facts of the case, but only to learn the meaning of

a very important word used by the witnesses. Matthew and several other

witnesses depose that Jesus and others were _baptized_. If they were

present in court, we would ask them what they mean by that word,

baptize. We would require them to describe, in other language, the _act_

which was performed—to tell us whether it was a sprinkling, a pouring,

or a dipping. But as we cannot bring them personally into court, we must

ascertain what they meant in the best way we can; and that is by a

careful examination of the words which they used, and the meaning that

would have been attached to them at the time they used them, by the

people to whom they were addressed. Now as the documents were written in

Greek, of course they used words in the common Greek sense. And we must

ascertain their meaning just as we would any other Greek word in any

other Greek author; and that is by reference to the lexicons or

dictionaries of the Greek language.”

“Very well, Mr. Percy; you talk like a judge. But what if you find all

the lexicons agree with this? What if they all say that the word means

dip, plunge, immerse?”’

“Why then, we must either admit that those who are said to have been

baptized, were plunged, dipped, immersed, or deny the correctness of the

Lexicons.”

“But if you deny the correctness of the Lexicons in regard to this word,

what confidence can we have in them in regard to other words? Brother

Edwin is studying Greek, and as often as he comes to a word which he has

not met with before, he finds it in the Lexicon, and so learns its

meaning; but if the Lexicons are wrong in this word, they may be wrong

in all. Is there no appeal from the authority of the Lexicons?”

“Certainly, we may do in Greek as we do every day in English studies; we

appeal from Johnson to Webster, and from Webster to Walker, and from

Walker to Worcester. If one does not suit us we may go to another.”

“One more question. Are any of these Lexicons _Baptist_ books, made for

the purpose of teaching _Baptist sentiments_? If so, you know they might

be doubtful testimony.”

“On the contrary, the Lexicons are made by classical scholars, for the

sole purpose of aiding students in the acquisition of the Greek

language. I do not suppose any one of them was made with any reference

to theological questions, and probably no one of them by a person

connected with the Baptist denomination. It is certain most of them were

not, and if they _all agree_ in regard to this word, it must be conceded

that they did not give it a meaning to suit their personal theological

views. There are a number of them in the College library, and I will

examine them all to-morrow, and tell you the result.”

Mr. Percy went back to his office studying the new phase of the question

presented in the meaning of the word. “If baptizo in the Greek means to

dip, in its primary, common, every-day use, then Jesus Christ was

dipped. Then every time the record says a person was baptized, it

expressly says he was dipped. I wonder if it can possibly be so. If so,

why have our wise and talented preachers never discovered it? or,

knowing it, can it be possible that they have _systematically concealed

it_?”

Theodosia retired to her chamber, where she spent a few moments in

prayer to God for the guidance of the Holy Spirit, and then took her

Testament and read how they were baptized of John _in the river of

Jordan_. How Jesus, after he was baptized, _came up out of the water_.

How they went down both _into the water_, both Philip and the eunuch,

and he baptized him, and when they were come _up out of the water_, the

Spirit of the Lord caught away Philip. She compared these statements

with what she had seen at the river, and did not need any testimony from

the _Lexicons_ to satisfy her that John’s baptism and Philip’s baptism

was immersion. Why else did they go into the water? Why else was it done

in the river? Ministers don’t go into the river to sprinkle their

subjects now-a-days. There was no reason for doing it then. Must I then

unite with this obscure sect and be immersed? Must I break away from the

communion that I love so dearly—from all my friends and relatives? Must

I part from my dear old pastor, who was, under God, the means of my

conversion—who has so often counselled me, prayed with me and for me,

wept over me, and cherished me as though I had been his own child? The

very thought was terrible. She threw herself on her bed and wept aloud.

Her crying brought her mother to her side. She kneeled beside the bed,

took the poor girl’s hand in both of hers, and bade her try to banish

this distressing subject from her thoughts. It was not worth while, she

said, for a young girl like her to set up her own opinions, or even to

entertain doubts in opposition to her minister and others who had spent

their lives in the study of this very thing. As for herself, if her

pastor, Mr. Johnson, said any thing was in the Bible, she always _took

it for granted it was there_. He had more time to look into these things

than she had. It was his business to do it; and he was better qualified

to do it than any of his people. And of course, if sprinkling was not

true baptism, he would never have practiced it.

“But, mother,” sobbed the weeping girl, “I must answer to _God_, and not

to pastor Johnson. Much as I love him, I trust I love my Saviour better;

and if my pastor says _one_ thing, and Jesus Christ _another_, Mr.

Johnson himself has often told us to obey God rather than man. I have no

choice; _I must obey my Saviour_.”

“Of course you must, my child; but Mr. Johnson knows better what the

Saviour commands than you do. He understands all about these questions.

And he will assure you that you have been properly baptized. I know that

he agrees exactly with Dr. Fisher, who baptized you, as you yourself

well remember.”

“I remember that he sprinkled a little water in my face, mother; but if

that was baptism which I witnessed to-day, he certainly did not

_baptize_ me.”

“Well, my dear, try and compose yourself, and go to sleep; and I will

send for our pastor to come and see you to-morrow. It will soon satisfy

your mind.”

“I hope he may; and I will try to sleep. Good-night, mother.”

THE SECOND NIGHT’S STUDY.

In which Theodosia is assisted by Mr. Percy, the pastor, and the

schoolmaster.

Presbyterian Authorities: Mr. Barnes; or, explaining scripture by

scripture.

Theodosia’s opinion of theological writers.

More authorities: Dr. McKnight, Dr. Chalmers, John Calvin, Prof.

Stewart, John Wesley, &c.

Second Night’s Study.

Punctual to his promise, Mr. Percy came in soon after supper on the next

evening, and found the Rev. Mr. Johnson, the pastor of the church,

already there. He had called early to take a social cup of tea, having

learned that Theodosia was “like to go crazy about these new-fangled

Baptist notions.”

He did not think she looked much like a maniac, however, though there

was a deep saddened seriousness about her face. Nor did she _act_ like a

maniac, for never before had she seemed so respectfully affectionate to

him and to her mother.

He had not said a word upon the subject of dispute, and seemed reluctant

to approach it; but when Mr. Percy came in, it could no longer be

postponed.

“I am very glad to meet you here, Mr. Johnson,” said the young man.

“Miss Theodosia and I had quite a discussion yesterday evening on the

subject of baptism. She has taken a fancy that she has never been

baptized; and I believe that I nearly exhausted my logic in trying to

convince her that she had. I hope your arguments will be more effectual

than mine.”

“Really, my children, I don’t know,” said the old man, “what I may be

able to do; I have never studied these controversies much; I think it is

better to live in peace and let every one enjoy his own conscientious

opinion. These discussions are apt to run into disputes and quarrels,

and often occasion a great deal of ill feeling. I have known them to

divide churches, and even families. It is better to avoid them.”

“But what are we to do with such lovely heretics as this?” said the

young man, with a smile and a sly glance toward her mother. “She must be

satisfied that she has been baptized, or you will have her running to

the school-house next Sunday to hear that uneducated Baptist preacher,

and ten to one, she will ask him to go down into the water and baptize

her according to the New Testament model. She says she wants to be

baptized as Jesus Christ was, and that was in the river, you know.”

“Oh, as to that,” rejoined the pastor, “there is no evidence that Jesus

Christ was immersed in the river at all. It has been satisfactorily

proved that he was sprinkled or poured upon; and it is very certain that

sprinkling was practiced by the apostles and early Christians.”

“Oh, I am so glad to hear you say that,” replied the young lady. “You

don’t know what a load it has taken off my mind. Do tell me _how it is

ascertained_ that Christ did not go into the river, and _what evidence

there is_ that he was sprinkled, and it was sprinkling which he

commanded. You can’t imagine how anxious I am to know.”

“Well, I don’t know that I can call up _all_ the evidence just at this

time, and we would not have time to go over it, if I could; but you may

be assured that there _is such evidence_, and that of the _most

satisfactory character_, or else all the learned and talented

theological scholars of the various Pedobaptist churches would not have

continued for so many ages, to teach and practice it.”

“Certainly, I have no doubt the evidence exists, since you say so; but

can’t you tell me _what it is_, or show me _where to find it?_ I shall

never be able to rest in peace till I am convinced that I have been

baptized. And if that which I witnessed at the river yesterday was

baptism, I am sure I never was.”

“Oh, don’t be so confident, my daughter. There are more _modes_ of

baptism than one. That was, perhaps, _one_ mode (though of that I have

some doubt). You were baptized by _another mode_. That _may have been_

baptism. Yours _certainly was_.”

“Well, do please prove it to me some way, Mr. Johnson. What you say is

something like what Mr. Percy said yesterday. He told me that baptize

was a generic term, expressing rather a certain result than any specific

act. I think that was the idea, was it not, Mr. Percy?”

“Exactly; and if so, I leave it to Mr. Johnson if the manner of reaching

the result is not a matter of indifference.”

“Certainly,” said the pastor; “‘baptism is the application of water as a

religious ordinance.’ It does not matter about the quantity of water or

the mode of applying it.”

“Yes; that is what mother said yesterday. And we looked in Webster, and

found that such was, indeed, the present English use of the word

baptize. But brother says baptize is a Greek word slightly modified, and

transferred from the Greek Testament to the English. _It is the New

Testament meaning in the time of Christ, and among the people for whom

the Gospels were first written_, that we want, not the meaning that it

_has acquired_ in the English since its transfer to our language.”

“You see, pastor, she is going to be hard to satisfy. She pleads her

cause like a lawyer.”

“No, no, Mr. Percy, I will not be hard to satisfy. I desire, I long, I

_pray_ to be satisfied. I can never rest till I am satisfied. I only ask

for _the evidence_. You said yesterday that _baptizo_ was a generic term

meaning to sprinkle; to pour, or to dip; but we found it in the Lexicon,

and it proved to be a specific term meaning only to dip. Not a word was

there about sprinkling or pouring. It was simply and only dipping.

To-day, Mr. Johnson tells me about several _modes_—but they are not

modes of dipping. And yet if the Greek word _baptismos_, baptism, means

_dipping_, then they must, in order to be modes of baptism, be modes of

dipping. But, Mr. Percy, you have not yet told us the result of your

examination of other Lexicons.”

“We can make nothing out of them. I am sorry to say they all agree

substantially with the one you have in the house. If we trust to them we

must grant that the word means primarily and ordinarily to dip, to

plunge, to immerse. Of this there is no doubt.”

“Then I am more perplexed than ever. You said yesterday that in order to

know what the act was which the disciples performed and Christ

commanded, we must ascertain the precise meaning of baptize, as they

employed it in the Greek language. You have examined all the Lexicons

(the highest authorities) and find they all agree in saying it was dip,

plunge, immerse. You admitted yesterday that if they should agree in

this, the question was settled. If they said baptize meant to dip, and

_baptismos_ a dipping or immersion, then every time we read that one was

baptized, we must understand that he was immersed. I thought that was a

plain, straightforward case. I felt that I could understand it. Well,

now you say you have examined carefully the other Lexicons, and they all

agree with this. No one says sprinkle, no was says pour—all say dip, and

consequently the Gospel says that Jesus was _dipped_ of John in the

river of Jordan. But then our pastor says that _he_ has evidence that

Jesus did not enter the river at all, and that he was _sprinkled_, and

not dipped. Of course he would not say it, unless it was so, but I

really don’t understand how it could be so.”

“I have some curiosity on that point myself,” said Mr. Percy, evidently

relived to find he could (for the moment at least), take the other side

of the question. “I find myself in a very close place. These Lexicons

have killed me. I don’t know what to say. I suppose, of course, there is

some way to get around the difficulty; but I must leave it to our pastor

to point it out. For my part, I submit the case.”

“Really,” said Mr. Johnson, “the question never presented itself to me

in just this light before. You must give me a little time to consider

about it. And in the meantime let me beg of you both that you will

examine some of the standard writers upon the subject. I do not think

you have done this yet. What have you in the house?”

“Not a book upon the subject, except it be the Bible, and I don’t much

care to read any other till we have examined that. If sprinkling is

there, it ought to be so plainly taught that I can see it for myself. If

I can’t find it, I will always doubt if it is there,” rejoined the young

lady.

“True, my child,” said the pastor; “but we often fail to see things at

first glance, which are very evident when they have once been pointed

out, and our attention fixed upon them. This is the advantage of using

proper helps to understand the Scriptures. Those not familiar with the

language in which they were written, and with the customs and manners of

the people to whom they were originally addressed, will derive great

assistance from judicious criticisms. I like, myself, always to read a

commentary on every chapter that I attempt to understand.”

“Oh, as to commentaries, we have Barnes’ Notes on the Gospels, and on

some of the Epistles. And we have McKnight’s exposition and new

translation of the Epistles. Uncle Jones admires these old volumes of

McKnight’s very much, but they always seemed very dry to me. I love Mr.

Barnes, and have studied his notes in Sunday-school and Bible class all

my life.”

“Mr. Barnes is a very learned and eminent divine,” replied the pastor.

“His notes have attained a wide circulation, and won for him an enduring

reputation. You cannot follow a safer guide. Have you examined him upon

the subject?”

“I suppose,” said she, “that I have read it a dozen times, but I never

thought any thing particularly about it, and don’t recollect a word.”

“Suppose, then, you get his Notes, and let us look at them a moment

before I leave. I can stay but a few minutes longer.”

Edwin had found the volume while they were talking of it, and now handed

it to the pastor.

“I suppose we shall find it here, Matthew iii. 6, as this is the place

where the word baptize first occurs. Mr. Percy, will you have the

kindness to read it aloud for our common benefit?”

Mr. Percy read: “And were baptized of him in Jordan, confessing their

sins.” “The word baptize signifies, originally, to _tinge_, to _dye_, to

_stain_, as those who _dye_ clothes. It here means to cleanse or wash

any thing by the application of water. (See note, Mark vii. 4.)

“Washing or ablution was much in use among the Jews, as one of the rites

of their religion. It was not customary, however, to _baptize_ those who

were converted to the Jewish religion until after the Babylonish

captivity.

“At the time of John, and for some time previous, they had been

accustomed to administer a rite of _baptism_ or washing to those who

became proselytes to their religion, that is, who were converted from

being Gentiles.” … “John found this custom in use, and as he was calling

the Jews to a new dispensation, to a change in the form of their

religion, he administered this rite of _baptism_ or washing to signify

the cleansing from their sins, and adopting the new dispensation, or the

fitness for the pure reign of the Messiah. They applied an old ordinance

to a new purpose; as it was used by John it was a significant rite or

ceremony, intended to denote the putting away of impurity, and a purpose

to be pure in heart and life.”

Mr. Percy stopped reading, and looking up at Mr. Johnson, said, “Pardon

me, pastor, but if Mr. Barnes were present here as a witness in this

case, I would like to ask him a single question by way of a

cross-examination. He says that ‘_Washing_ or ablution was much in use

among the Jews as one of the rites of their religion,’ and yet he tells

us that _baptism_ was not in use _till after the captivity_. Must not

baptism then have been something _new_ and different from the washing or

ablution?”

“And I,” said Theodosia, “would like to ask a question too; perhaps

pastor Johnson can answer it as well as Mr. Barnes. He says, when they

received a convert from the Gentiles, they _baptized_ him; John found

this rite in use, and merely applied an old ordinance to a new purpose.

Now, I want to know how this ordinance was administered. _What was the

act_ which they performed upon the proselyte? Did they sprinkle him, or

pour upon him, or was he immersed? If this can be ascertained, it will

of course determine what it was that John did when he baptized. Can you

tell us, Mr. Johnson, which it was?”

“Yes, my child; it was universally conceded that the Jewish proselyte

baptism was immersion. I do not know that this has ever been denied by

any writer on either side of the controversy. It is distinctly stated to

have been immersion by Dr. Lightfoot, Dr. Adam Clarke, Prof. Stuart, and

others who have espoused our cause.”

“How then do you get rid of the difficulty? If, as Mr. Barnes says,

‘John applied an old ordinance to a new purpose,’ and that old ordinance

was immersion, it is absolutely certain that John was immersed. There is

not room for even the shadow of a doubt.”

“It would seem to be so indeed,” said the pastor. “I never thought of it

just in that light before. But though it is admitted by all that the

proselyte baptism was immersion, it is doubted by many whether it

existed at all before the time of John. Some think it originated about

the time of Christ, and that the Jews practiced it in imitation of

John’s baptism.”

“I do not see,” rejoined Mr. Percy, “how it can make the slightest

difference in the result of the argument, whether it was in use before

the time of John, or was borrowed from him. If they immersed _before_

the time of John, and he borrowed his rite from them, of course it was

immersion that he borrowed. If they immersed _after_ the time of John,

and borrowed their rite from him, of course John immersed, or they could

not have borrowed immersion from him.”

“But if John immersed,” said Theodosia, “then _Jesus was immersed by

John_. This immersion was called his baptism. The disciples saw it, and

spake of it as such; and ever afterward, whenever baptism was mentioned,

their minds would revert to this act; and so, when Jesus said to them,

‘Go and baptize,’ they must have understood him to mean, that they

should go and repeat on others the rite which they had seen performed on

him. And not only so,” added the young lady, “but Christ’s disciples had

themselves been accustomed to practice the same baptism under his own

eye. If John immersed, they had not only witnessed his immersion of

Jesus, but they had themselves immersed hundreds, if not thousands,

under the personal direction of Jesus himself.”

“That would certainly settle the question. But where did you make that

discovery?” asked Mr. Percy, incredulously.

“Oh, it is in the record,” she replied. “Here is the testimony, John

iii. 22, 23: ‘After these things, came Jesus and his disciples into the

land of Judea, and there he tarried with them, and baptized. And John

also was baptizing in Ænon, near to Salim, because there was much water

there; and they came, and were baptized.’ And in the next chapter it

says that the ‘Pharisees heard that Jesus made and baptized more

disciples than John.’ Now John baptized and Jesus baptized. They both

did the same thing; that is as plain as words can make it: as plain as

though it said Jesus walked, and John also walked; or Jesus talked, and

John also talked. Whatever it was that John did, Jesus was doing the

same thing. “If John’s baptism was immersion, then Jesus and his

disciples were immersing, and they immersed more than John.”

“That is really,” said Mr. Percy, “a complete demonstration. Don’t you

think so, Mr. Johnson?”

“Well, I must confess it looks so at the first glance. We must look into

this matter another time. Let us, for the present, see what Mr. Barnes

says further. Please read on, Mr. Percy; I have not much more time to

spare this evening.”

Mr. Percy read on:

“The Hebrew word (_tabal_) which is rendered by the [Greek] word

baptize, occurs in the Old Testament in the following places:—Lev. iv.

6; xiv. 6, 51; Num. xix. 18; Ruth ii. 14; Ex. xii. 22; Deut. xxxiii. 24;

Ezk. xxiii. 15; Job ix. 31; Lev. ix. 9; 1 Sam. ix. 27; 2 Kings v. 14;

viii. 15; Gen. xxxvii. 31; Joshua iii. 15. It occurs in no other places;

and from a careful examination of these passages, its meaning among the

Jews is to be derived.”

“Oh,” said the young lady, “that is what I like; I like to find the

meaning in the Scriptures, then I know I can rely upon it. Just wait a

minute, Mr. Percy, if you please, till I can get my Bible and hunt out

those place, and see how it reads. If it reads sprinkle, then it is all

right—sprinkling is baptism; if it reads pour, then pouring is baptism;

if it reads dip, then dipping is baptism. We will soon see.”

“Let me read a little further, Miss Theodosia, and perhaps you may not

think it necessary to examine the texts.”

She had, however, got her Bible, and was getting ready to turn to each

text in order, when he resumed as follows:

“From these passages, it will be seen that its radical meaning is not to

sprinkle or to immerse. _It is to dip_. Commonly for the purpose of

sprinkling or for some other purpose.”

“What? Do let me see that. Pardon me, pastor, but what does the good man

mean? It is not to sprinkle; it is not to immerse; _it is to dip!_

Edwin, please get Webster’s Dictionary, and tell us the difference

between the meaning of dip and immerse.”

“Here it is. Immerse is to plunge into a fluid. Dip is to plunge any

thing into a fluid, and instantly take it out again.”

“Why, Mr. Percy, that just describes the act of baptism which we saw at

the river. It was not an immersion, strictly speaking, but a dipping, a

plunging beneath the water, and a raising out again. ‘It is not to

sprinkle or to immerse; it is to dip! Commonly for the purpose of

sprinkling, or for some other purpose.’”

“What are you laughing at, brother Edwin?”

“I was only thinking how a preacher would look, dipping a man ‘for the

purpose of sprinkling’ him. But see! there goes my teacher, and I

believe he is a Baptist. At any rate he goes to all their meetings. Let

me call him in; he can tell us something more about these things.”

And before any one could interfere, he had run to the door and hailed

Mr. Courtney.

Seeing this, the Rev. Mr. Johnson arose, and reminding the company that

he had an engagement at that hour, promised to call again and talk over

the matter more, at another day, and took his leave, passing out just as

the teacher was coming in.

“Mr. Courtney,” said Mr. Percy, “perhaps you can help us a little. We

were just looking at Barnes on Baptism.”

“I did not know he had ever written on the subject, except some very

singular remarks he made in his Notes on the third chapter of Matthew.”

“It was those we were examining, and I infer that you do not think very

favorably of his argument.”

“I think he makes a very strong argument for the Baptists.”

“How so?”

“Simply thus: It is an axiom in logic as well as in mathematics, ‘that

things which are equal to the same thing, are equal to one another.’ Now

he states a very remarkable and exceedingly significant fact, when he

says that the Hebrew word _tabal_ is rendered by the word _baptize_. It

occurs, he says, fifteen times in the Hebrew Bible. Now when the Jews

translated their Scriptures into Greek, whenever they came to this word,

they rendered it _baptize_; and when our translators came to this same

word, they rendered it by the English word _dip_. It follows, therefore,

since dip in English and baptize in Greek are both equivalent to _tabal_

in Hebrew, they must be equivalent to each other.

“Mr. Barnes says further, that the true way to ascertain the meaning of

this word among the Jews, is to examine carefully the fifteen places

where it occurs in the Old Testament. I see, Miss Ernest, that you have

the Bible in your hand; suppose you turn to those places, and let us see

how they read. It will not take more than a few minutes of our time.”

“I had gotten the book for that very purpose, sir. I like this way of

study, comparing Scripture with Scripture. I always feel better

satisfied with my conclusions when I have drawn them for myself directly

from the Bible.”

“Well, here is the first place, Leviticus iv. 6: ‘And the priest shall

_dip_ his finger in the blood.’

“The second, Leviticus xiv. 6: ‘And shall _dip_ them into the blood of

the bird that was killed over running water.’

“The third, Leviticus xiv. 51: ‘And _dip_ them in the blood of the slain

bird and in the running water.’

“The fourth, Numbers xix. 18: ‘And a clean person shall take hyssop, and

_dip_ it into the water.’

“The fifth, Ruth ii. 14: ‘And Boaz said unto her at meal time, come thou

hither, and eat of the bread, and _dip_ thy morsel in the vinegar.’

[Illustration: Conversation around the Ernest table.]

“The sixth, Exodus xii. 22: ‘And ye shall take a bunch of hyssop, and

_dip_ it in the blood.’

“The seventh, Deuteronomy xxxiii. 24: ‘And let him _dip_ his foot in

oil.’

“The eighth, Ezekiel xxiii. 15: ‘Exceeding in dyed attire.’

“The ninth, Job ix. 31: ‘Yet shalt thou _plunge_ me in the ditch.’

“The tenth, Leviticus ix. 9: ‘And he _dipped_ his finger in the blood.’

“The eleventh, 1 Samuel xiv. 27: ‘And he (Jonathan) put forth the end of

the rod that was in his hand, and _dipped_ it in the honey comb.’

“The twelfth, 2 Kings viii. 16: ‘And he (Hazael) took a thick cloth, and

_dipped_ it in the water, and spread it on his face.’

“The thirteenth, Joshua iii. 15: ‘The feet of the priests that bare the

ark were _dipped_ in the brim of Jordan.’

“The fourteenth, 2 Kings v. 14: ‘And he went down and _dipped_ himself

seven times in Jordan.’

“The fifteenth, Genesis xxxvii. 31: ‘And they took Joseph’s coat, and

killed a kid, and _dipped_ the coat in the blood.’

“The passage in the 2 Kings v. 14, is very remarkable, since it

corresponds precisely in the Septuagint to the text in Matthew. The

Septuagint says of Naaman, _Ebaptizato en to Jordane_. Matthew says of

the people baptized by John, _Ebaptisonto en to Jordane_. Nobody has

ever questioned the correctness of the translation in Kings. He _dipped_

himself in Jordan; and had Matthew been translated by the same rule, it

must have read, they were _dipped_ by John in Jordan.

“But I fear this subject may be disagreeable to you. Mr. Barnes, I know,

is a most eminent minister of your own denomination, and I ought

probably to have avoided speaking thus in your presence.”

“Oh, no, sir,” said the young lady; “I want to learn the truth, the

whole truth, and nothing but the truth, on this subject. I am glad to

learn it from any source, and in any way. Perhaps you can assist us

further; but let us see what further Mr. Barnes has to say.”

Mr. Percy read again:

“In none of these cases can it be shown that the meaning of the word is

to _immerse entirely_. But in nearly all the cases the notion of

applying the water to a part only of the person or object, though it was

by dipping, is necessarily supposed.… It cannot be proved, from an

examination of the passages in the Old and New Testaments, that the idea

of a complete immersion ever was connected with the word, or that it

_ever in any case occurred_.”

“Stop, Mr. Percy,” said the young lady. “Pray stop, and let me think a

moment. Can it be possible that a good man, a pious minister of Jesus

Christ, could dare to trifle thus with the holy Word of God? Oh, it is

wonderful! I cannot understand it! He said just now, that the meaning of

the word ‘was to dip for the purpose of sprinkling, or for some other

purpose.’ To dip means to plunge any thing into a fluid, and immediately

take it out again. To immerse means merely to plunge the object in the

fluid. Whatever is dipped, therefore, is of _necessity_ immersed, to the

same extent that it is dipped; and yet he says these things which the

Word says were dipped, were none of them entirely immersed.”

“Do not think too hardly of him,” said Mr. Percy. “An advocate who has a

bad cause to sustain (I know from experience), is sometimes obliged to

resort to just such a jumble, to cover the weak points of his argument.”

“Perhaps,” said Theodosia, “it might be excusable in a lawyer, though

even of that I am doubtful; but that a minister of the holy Word of

Jesus should thus stoop to ‘darken counsel with words without

knowledge,’ is something I never conceived of till now.”

“When you have become more familiar with the influence which passion and

prejudice, and especially early education and church attachments, exert

upon the minds of even the wisest and best of men,” said Mr. Courtney,

“these things will not appear so strange to you. Mr. Barnes doubtless

believes that sprinkling is baptism. He was taught so in early life, and

has for many years taught others so. To convince him of the contrary,

would now be almost or quite impossible, and when any text of Scripture

comes in opposition to this opinion, he can hardly help perverting or

misunderstanding it. You desired to know the true meaning of the word

baptize, as it was used in our Saviour’s time among the Jews; and you

applied to him for information. He told you very properly that you must

go to those places where it occurs in the original of their own

Scriptures, and pointed out to you the fifteen places, which he assures

you are the only places in which it occurs. He has thus given the matter

into your own hands. You turn to the places, one by one, and find that

in fourteen out of the fifteen it clearly means to _dip_. That such is

the case, he does not deny. He is obliged to grant that ‘its radical

meaning is to _dip_.’ This, now, he has proved from the Scriptures

themselves. But this overthrows his sprinkling, so he must get rid of

its force. This he undertakes to do—1. By intimating that there is some

important difference between dipping and immersion. ‘It is not

sprinkling nor immersion,’ he says; ‘it is dipping.’ And then he tries

to confuse the matter by mixing in the object, ‘for the purpose of

sprinkling, or for some other purpose,’ as though the purpose modified

the act performed. The baptism mentioned in these fourteen places was

equally dipping, whether it was performed for the purpose of sprinkling,

as when the priest dipped the hyssop; or for the purpose of smearing, as

when the priest dipped the tip of his finger in oil; or for the purpose

of cleansing, as when Naaman dipped himself in Jordan; or for the

purpose of pollution, as when Job was plunged in the ditch; or merely

for the purpose of wetting, as when Ruth dipped her morsel, or Hazael

his thick cloth. The wetting, the defiling, the cleansing, the smearing,

were not the baptism; they were not the dipping, but a consequence of

it. The sprinkling was not the baptism, the dipping, but a subsequent

and altogether a different act. Then to make ‘confusion worse

confounded,’ he intimates some vast distinction between entire immersion

and dipping. These things, said to be baptized in these fourteen places,

he can’t deny were dipped; but ‘none of them,’ he says, ‘were entirely

immersed.’ But the extent of the immersion does not affect the meaning

of the word. The word immersed expressed only the act of plunging the

object into the fluid. The word dip expressed this act, and the

additional one of taking it out again; and this, he said and proved, was

the Scriptural meaning of baptize. As far, then, as they were baptized,

they were dipped; and as far as they were dipped, they were immersed. We

learn the extent of the dipping from other words, not from this one. If

Naaman is said to have dipped himself, or Hazael the cloth, there is not

the slightest reason to doubt that the whole person and the whole cloth

were immersed. If Jonathan dipped the end of his staff, why the end only

was immersed. It was immersed, however, just as much as it was dipped or

baptized.”

“But,” said Mr. Percy, “what will you do with the hyssop, and the living

bird, etc., that were to be baptized into the blood of the slain bird,

and where Mr. Barnes says it is clearly impossible that they all should

be immersed in the blood of the single bird.”

“I simply say that they could be immersed in it as easily as they could

be dipped in it. If you will turn to Leviticus xiv. 6, you will see that

the blood of the slain bird was to be caught over running water; and as

it rested on, or mixed with the water, these things could all be

entirely immersed, if need be. You will remember, however, that in

common language the whole of a thing is often mentioned when a part is

only meant. I say, for instance, that I dipped my pen in ink, and wrote

a line; you do not understand that I dipped more than the point—enough

to take up the ink to write. If I tell you that I dipped my hair brush

in water, and smoothed my hair, you do not understand that I dipped it

in, handle and all, but only the bristles. So only enough of the cedar

wood, and hyssop, and scarlet, etc., may have been dipped to take up

enough to sprinkle with; but as much as they were baptized, so much were

they dipped; and so far as they were dipped, just so far were they

immersed. But it does not make any difference to Mr. Barnes or his

sprinkling brethren, whether the dipping was partial or complete; for

they do not dip their subjects of baptism at all, in whole or in part,

for the purpose of sprinkling, or for any other purpose; and, therefore,

if the Scriptural meaning of the word baptize is to dip, as Mr. Barnes

has so clearly proved by Scripture itself, then they do not baptize at

all.”

“Oh, yes, I see now how it was,” said Theodosia, “when Dr. Fisher

performed this ceremony upon me. He baptized his own hand; for he dipped

that in the bowl, but he only sprinkled me; and therefore, according to

the showing of Mr. Barnes himself, I have never been baptized.”

“Do not put down the book yet,” said Mr. Courtney. “Just turn to Matthew

xx. 22, and you will find that Mr. Barnes has no more difficulty than

the greatest Baptist in the land, in understanding the word baptism to

signify not only immersion, but _complete_ immersion, whenever it does

not refer to the ordinance.

“The baptism that I am baptized with.” On this Mr. B. remarks as

follows: ‘Are ye able to suffer with me the trials and pains which shall

come upon you in endeavoring to build up my kingdom? Are ye able to be

plunged deep in afflictions? to have sorrows cover you like water, and

to be sunk beneath calamities as floods, in the work of religion?

Afflictions are often expressed by being sunk in the floods and plunged

in the deep waters.’ (Ps. lix. 2; Isa. xliii. 2; Ps. cxxiv. 4, 5; Sam.

iii. 54.)

“You see Mr. Barnes has no more difficulty than the translators of the

Old Testament, in giving the word its true meaning—to dip, to plunge, to

sink beneath the waters, etc., when it does not refer to the ordinance;

but when it does, all is confusion and mystery.”

“I begin to think,” said Theodosia, “that theological writers are not to

be relied upon at all. And I feel more than ever inclined to trust to

the Bible alone, and study it for myself. When such a man as Mr. Barnes

can be so far blinded by education and prejudice as to come so near the

truth and not see it—to point out the way toward it so plainly, and yet

refuse to walk in it, and endeavor to hide it from others by such a

strange medley of words, I have no further use for any book on the

subject but the word of God. I will study that; and it shall be my only

guide. If I find that Jesus was sprinkled in Jordan, I will be content.

If I find that he was poured upon, I must be poured upon. If I find that

he was dipped, then I must be dipped.”

“Oh, no, Miss Theodosia; you are decidedly too hasty. I have often found

in court, that a witness whom I expected to testify in my favor, and who

evidently desired and intended to do so, has nevertheless, on a

cross-examination, given such testimony as was altogether favorable to

the opposite party. But I did not abandon my client, and give up my

suit. I sought for other witnesses. Our information on this subject is,

as yet, very limited. There are other sources of evidence; let us

examine them. Something may yet turn up to change your opinion of

theological writers. Did you not say you had McKnight on the Epistles in

the house?”

“Yes; and uncle Jones, who you know is one of the Elders in our church,

says it is one of the best, if not the very best of commentaries.”

“Well, let us see what he says. How will we find the place?”

“Take a concordance,” suggested Edwin, “and look at every place where

the word baptize occurs.”

“That is a first-rate idea. Well, here is the first place. Romans vi. 4.

Buried with Christ by baptism. In the note he says: ‘Christ’s baptism

was not the baptism of repentance, for he never committed any sin. But

he submitted to be baptized—that is, to be buried under the water by

John, and to be raised out again—as an emblem of his future death and

resurrection. In like manner, the baptism of believers is emblematical

of their own death, burial, and resurrection; perhaps, also, it is a

commemoration of Christ’s baptism.’”

“Stop, Mr. Percy, are you sure you are not reading falsely?”

“Yes, I am perfectly certain. Here is the book, you can see for

yourself.”

“No; but I thought you must be playing some trick on me. At any rate,

McKnight must have been a Baptist. No one who believed in, and practiced

sprinkling, could have written in that way.”

“Perhaps he was a Baptist. Let us look at the title page and preface,

and see who and what he was. It appears from this, that James McKnight,

D.D., was born Sept. 17, 1721. Licensed to preach by the Presbytery of

Irwine of the Scotch Presbyterian church. Ordained at Maybole in 1753.

Chosen Moderator of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian church in

1769, which position he held for more than twenty years. This brief

history of his life, prefixed to the first volume of his Notes, informs

us further, that he spent near thirty years of his life in preparing

these Notes, and ‘that the whole manuscript was written over and over,

by his own hand, no less than five times.’ They were therefore the

deliberate and carefully expressed opinions of a most eminent and very

learned Presbyterian Doctor of Divinity, and presiding officer of the

Presbyterian church in the country where he lived. Of course he cannot

be suspected of any bias toward the obscure and despised sect called the

Baptists.”

“Well, read on then. Theologians are mysterious men.”

“That is all he says on this verse. But here is verse 5th. ‘Planted

together,’ etc.

“‘The burying of Christ and of believers, first in the water of baptism,

and afterward in the earth, is fitly enough compared to the planting of

seeds in the earth, because the effect in both cases is a reviviscence

to a state of greater perfection.’”

“Surely, he must consider baptism to be a burial in water. But perhaps

he thinks there were several baptisms, and that dipping was one form or

mode, while sprinkling was another.”

“No, for here is his note on Ephesians iv. 5. One Lord, one Faith, one

Baptism.

“‘Ye all,’ says he, ‘serve one Lord, and all have the same object of

faith, and have all professed that faith by the same form of baptism.’”

“Has he any thing else on the subject?”

“Yes, here, on 1 Cor. x. 2, ‘And were all baptized unto Moses in the

cloud and in the sea.’

“‘Because the Israelites, by being hidden from the Egyptians under the

cloud, and by passing through the Red Sea, were made to declare their

belief in the Lord and his servant Moses, the Apostle very properly

represents them as baptized unto Moses in the cloud and in the sea.’

“And here again—1 Cor. xv. 29—‘Else what shall they do who are baptized

for the dead.’

“‘Otherwise what shall they do to repair their loss who are immersed in

sufferings for the resurrection of the dead.’

“And here again—Heb. ix. 10—‘Divers washings (_Baptismos_).’

“‘With nothing but meats, and drinks, and divers _immersions_, and

ordinances respecting the body.’

“One more place, and we have all that he says upon the subject.

“1 Peter iii. 21, ‘The like figure whereunto baptism doth now save us,

etc.’

“The water of baptism is here called the anti-type of the water of the

flood, because the flood was a type or emblem of baptism in three

particulars:

“1. ‘As by building an ark and entering into it, Noah showed strong

faith in the promise of God, concerning his preservation, by the very

water which was to destroy the Antediluvians for their sins. So by

giving ourselves to be buried in the water of baptism, we show a like

faith in God’s promise, that though we die and are buried, he will save

us from death and the punishment of sin, by raising us up from the dead

at the last day.’

“2. ‘As the preserving of Noah alive during the nine months of the

flood, is an emblem of the preservation of the souls of believers while

in the state of the dead, so the preserving believers alive while buried

in the water of baptism, is a prefiguration of the same event.’

“3. ‘As the water of the deluge destroyed the wicked, but preserved Noah

by bearing up the ark, in which he was shut up, till the waters were

assuaged, and he went out to live again upon the earth; so baptism may

be said to destroy [or represent the destruction of] the wicked, and to

save the righteous, as it prefigures both these events. The death of the

wicked it prefigures by the burial of the baptized person in the water,

and the salvation of the righteous by the raising of the baptized person

out of the water.’”

“Well, Mr. Percy,” said Theodosia, “what do you make of this witness? Do

you wish to cross-examine him, or ask him any further questions?”

“Yes, I would like to ask the Rev. Dr. McKnight if he practiced

sprinkling for baptism; and if he did, upon what grounds he could

sustain a practice so different from his own exposition of the teachings

of the Scripture.”

“As Dr. McKnight has not answered in his writings, and is not present in

person, it may be satisfactory,” suggested Mr. Courtney, “to inquire of

some other representative of the same church establishment. If you have

Dr. Chalmers’ Lectures on Romans, you will find the question answered.”

“Yes, sister, don’t you know mother bought Chalmers’ Lectures only the

other day? I will go and get the book,” said Edwin.

“Ah, here it is—page 152; Romans vi. 4–7. ‘The original meaning of the

_word baptism_, is _immersion_; and, though we regard it as a point of

indifferency whether the ordinance so named be performed in this way or

by sprinkling, yet we doubt not that the prevalent style of the

administration, in the apostle’s days, was by the actual submerging of

the whole body under water. We advert to this for the purpose of

throwing light on the analogy which is instituted in these verses. Jesus

Christ, by death, underwent this sort of baptism, even immersion under

the surface of the ground, whence he soon emerged again by his

resurrection. We, by being baptized into his death, are conceived to

have made a similar translation—in the act of descending under the water

of baptism, to have resigned an old life; and in the act of ascending,

to emerge into a second or new life.’ Here we have a distinct avowal of

the well-established fact that the meaning of the word baptism is

immersion, and that the practice of the Apostolic church was conformable

to this truth. But in the very face of it we have the candid declaration

‘that we (Presbyterians) regard it as a matter of indifferency whether

the ordinance so named be performed in this way or by sprinkling.’”

“But, Mr. Courtney, how can it be a matter of ‘indifferency?’ If the

word means immersion, then immersion was what Christ commanded—then the

‘ordinance so-called’ is ‘immersion.’ How can immersion be performed by

sprinkling? Really, these theologians are a strange, mysterious people.

I cannot comprehend them. Christ commands me to be baptized—baptism

means immersion—then, of course, if he meant any thing, he meant

immersion. But these great and good men tell me it is a matter of

‘indifferency’ whether I do what he commanded, or something else

altogether different from it.”

“Pardon me, Miss Theodosia; it is only when the theologians are in

error, and blinded by their educational prejudices, or attachment to

their church forms and dogmas, that they are so unreasonable and so

mysterious.”

“Yet I have been accustomed to think they could hardly be in error at

all. I have taken it for granted, until yesterday, that what the

ministers of our church said about the teachings of the word of God, was

all true, as a matter of course. I can hardly believe now that it is not

so. I can’t understand how those, who are so wise, so learned, so pious,

so anxious to know the truth, and who spend all their time in learning

and teaching it, can be wrong; or how a simple girl like me, may differ

from them and yet be right. I am afraid to take a single step in

opposition to my pastor’s teaching, though I see clearly (as I think)

that I shall step upon the rock of God’s unfailing truth! How can it be,

that such good men talk one way and act another? How do they try to

justify their ‘indifferency’ to the commands of Christ? They give some

reason, do they not?”

“I think most of them don’t trouble themselves on the subject: they

think little, and care little about it—not deeming it essential to

salvation. When they do think or read upon the subject, it is in order

to quiet their minds, or reply to an opponent. They have the practice of

their church, received by tradition; they take it for granted it is

right. They are where you were a day or two since, when you took it for

granted that the ministers of your denomination could not be wrong. They

don’t think _their church_ can be wrong; and they twist, pervert, and

torture the Scriptures, as you have seen Mr. Barnes do, or openly set

aside their teachings as a matter of ‘indifferency,’ as we have seen Dr.

Chalmers do, in order to continue _the usage of the church_.”

“But,” asked Theodosia, “does not Dr. Chalmers stand alone upon this

point of ‘indifferency?’ It surely is not common for the ministers of

our church (who in learning and piety I have always thought had no

superiors in the world) to speak of literal obedience to Christ’s

commandments as a matter of no consequence. To me it seems to border

upon absolute impiety, almost upon sacrilege. I am in a maze of

astonishment.”

“If you will continue your investigations for a little time, you will

cease to be astonished at almost any sort of assertions made by the

advocates of sprinkling,” said Mr. Courtney. “You will, for instance,

find them admitting, in one sentence, that immersion was submitted to by

Christ, and practiced by the Apostles; and in another, holding it up to

the reprobation and abhorrence of every Christian as an indecent and

abominable rite. But, in regard to your question. Dr. Chalmers, so far

from standing alone, simply echoes the sentiments of Calvin, the founder

of your church, and others of its most eminent supporters. ‘It is of no

consequence at all,’ says Calvin, as quoted by Prof. Stuart, ‘whether

the baptized person is totally immersed, or whether he is merely

sprinkled by an affusion of water. This should be a matter of choice to

the churches in different regions, although the word baptize signifies

to immerse, and the rite of immersion was practiced by the ancient

church.’ ‘To this opinion,’ says Prof. Stuart, ‘I do most fully and

heartily subscribe.’”

“Well, I declare! these Presbyterian Doctors of Divinity are the most

mysterious of people to me. They freely admit that the meaning of the

word is to immerse, or to dip, and that immersion was practiced by the

first churches—(and of course, if such is the meaning of the word, it

must have been practiced by the first churches, as they could not

misunderstand the commandment). Yet they tell us that it is of ‘no

consequence at all’ whether we obey the commandment or not. Do the other

denominations opposed to the Baptist occupy the same position?”

“I cannot answer for all,” said Mr. Courtney; “I can for some. I have

here a transcript of some of the writings of Mr. John Wesley, who was

the founder of the Methodists, the most numerous of the Pedobaptist

sects in this country. He says, in his notes on Romans vi. 4—‘The

allusion is to the ancient manner of baptizing, by immersion.’ And he

relates in his journal, vol. 3, page 20, ‘that Mary Welch, aged eleven

days, was baptized according to the custom of the first church, and the

rule of the church of England, by immersion.’

“On page 24 of the same volume, he says—‘I was asked to baptize a child

of Mr. Parker’s, second bailiff of Savannah; but Mrs. Parker told me,

neither Mr. P. nor I will consent to its being dipped. I answered, if

you certify that the child is weakly, it will suffice (the Rubric says)

to pour water on it. She replied nay, the child is not weak, but I am

resolved it shall not be dipped. This argument I could not confute, so I

went home, and the child was baptized by another.’”

“It would seem, then,” said Theodosia, “that Mr. Wesley conformed his

practice to his belief. He believed that baptism was immersion, and

refused to baptize at all unless he could do it according to the word of

God. I honor the man for his consistency.”

“Still,” said Mr. Percy, “it does not seem that he was influenced by the

word of God, but by the ‘Rubric.’ The word of God makes no exception in

favor of those who may be certified to ‘be weak,’ but yet on the

authority of ‘the Rubric,’ or formula of the church of England, Mr.

Wesley was perfectly ready to dispense with the dipping, and employ

pouring, if the parents _would only certify_.”

“Moreover,” added Mr. Courtney, “it seems, from his conduct afterward,

that he felt as much at liberty himself to change the ordinance of

Christ, as the makers of the Rubric had done; for when he organized his

societies, and gave them ‘the Discipline’ as their organic law, he

directed baptism to be performed by sprinkling or pouring, if the

parties preferred it.

“And though Mr. Wesley once refused to baptize a person at all unless he

could do it by dipping, ‘according to the custom of the first church,’

or under a certificate of weakness, his followers, by his direction and

by authority of his Discipline, employ sprinkling almost exclusively,

and call immersion a vulgar and indecent practice; although they will

sometimes perform it to satisfy a weak conscience, rather than lose a

member.

“Martin Luther, the great reformer and founder of the Lutheran church,

evidently entertained the same opinion with the other noted Pedobaptists

we have been speaking of. After speaking of baptism as a symbol of death

and resurrection, he says, ‘On this account I could wish that such as

are to be baptized, should be completely immersed into the water,

according to the meaning of the word and the signification of the

ordinance, as also, without doubt, it was instituted by Christ.’ Yet

Luther is the father of a sprinkling church—the Lutheran; and whether he

did so or not, it is evident that his followers, like Drs. Chalmers and

Calvin, regard it as a ‘point of indifferency.’”

“That is sufficient, Mr. Courtney,” replied the young lady; “I merely

wish to know if the other denominations were guilty of the same

inconsistency with our own.”

After a little further conversation, Mr. Percy and Mr. Courtney took

their leave.

Mrs. Ernest, the mother, had, during the time of this interview, been

sitting quietly in a corner, very busily engaged in hemming some

ruffles. She took no part in the discussion, but as soon as the

gentlemen were gone, she turned to Theodosia, and said—

“My dear child, I am perfectly astonished at your behavior this

evening.”

“Why, mother,” said the young lady, in amazement, “what have I done? I

am not conscious of any impropriety.”

“Do you think, then, that it is perfectly proper and becoming in you to

talk as you did this evening about the good and eminent clergymen of our

church? It made my flesh quake and my heart burn to hear that

impertinent little Baptist pedagogue accuse such a man as Dr. Albert

Barnes of perverting the scriptures and mystifying the truth. I wonder

if he thinks a learned and pious Presbyterian minister, like Mr. Barnes,

is more likely to be ‘blinded by prejudice and passion’ than an ignorant

Baptist schoolmaster. You thought I was not listening; but, though I did

not take any part in your conversation, I assure you I heard every word

of it, and if it had not been for the presence of Mr. Percy, I do

believe I would have been tempted to order the fellow out of my house.

How could you be so destitute of every particle of self-respect, and of

all regard for your own church—the church of your mother and your grand

parents, in which you was born and raised, as to permit a man to talk in

that way in your presence? I declare I was perfectly ashamed of you! If

that Mr. Courtney ever shows his face in my house again, I do think I

shall insult him.”

“Mother, what was it that Mr. Courtney said that was so unbecoming and

offensive? I am sure he seemed to me only as one anxious to get at the

truth.”

“Why! did he not say that our preachers perverted the Scripture? Did not

he say that they set aside the commandments of Christ as matters of

‘indifferency?’ I wonder if he thinks he knows more about the Scriptures

than Dr. Chalmers or Mr. Barnes, or even the weakest preacher in our

church? I always heard that the Baptists were an ignorant, bigoted, and

intolerant sect, and I believe it now more than ever. Just to think

that—”

“But, mother, please let me say one word. Mr. Courtney did, indeed,

intimate that Mr. Barnes had mystified and perverted the Scripture, but

did he not prove it before he said it? It was Mr. Percy who read in Mr.

Barnes’ notes that we must look in the Old Testament at those fifteen

places, to learn the meaning of the word baptize. We looked, and found

that in fourteen of the fifteen, the action was dipping, and in none of

them sprinkling or pouring. It was Mr. Percy who read that ‘the meaning

of the word is not to sprinkle or to immerse, but it is to dip for the

purpose of sprinkling, or for some other purpose.’ It was Mr. Percy who

read in Dr. Chalmers that ‘we (Presbyterians) consider it a point of

indifferency’ whether the ordinance of Christ is performed as he

commanded, or in some other way. Now, if Mr. Barnes does prove that the

word means ‘to dip,’ for the purpose of sprinkling, or for some other

purpose, and yet tells us that it can be done by pouring, does he not

mystify the subject by a strange medley of words? Was it so very wrong

in Mr. Courtney to point out these self-evident prevarications of Mr.

Barnes, or the openly avowed disregard to the commandment of Jesus

Christ and the practice of the Apostolic churches in Dr. Chalmers?

“If Presbyterians are guilty of such inconsistency I am sorry for it,

and ashamed of it, but I can’t help seeing it when my attention is

directed to it; and I really do not see how it could have been becoming

in me to get angry with those who were so kind as to point it out to me.

On this subject I feel that I would be willing to learn the truth even

from an infidel or an idiot, if they could aid me.”

“It is the part of a true friend,” said the mother, “to hide a friend’s

infirmities, not to divulge and glory in them. And even if our ministers

have done and said some thoughtless and silly things, it is not for a

Presbyterian like you, to speak of them, or permit others to speak of

them so contemptuously, in your presence. If you have no spirit of

resentment, I’ll let you know that I have, and Mr. Courtney too, if he

comes here with any more of his Baptist abuse of our pious and learned

ministers.”

“But, mother, if our ministers are wrong (as being human they surely may

be) how can it be wrong to point out their errors, and guard inquirers

after truth from falling into them?”

“I don’t say,” replied the mother, “that it is wrong to point out any

trifling errors, which they may have inadvertently taught; provided it

were done in a mild, gentlemanly, courteous, and Christian manner. But

is it kind, is it courteous, is it Christian-like, to accuse a great and

good man like Mr. Barnes, of torturing, perverting, and mystifying the

Word of God, to sustain some church dogma or church practice? Do you

call that gentlemanly?”

“My dear mother, please don’t be so angry with me; I really can’t see

why we should not call things by their real names. And I must confess

that so far as I can understand the meaning of the words, Mr. Barnes

does, on this subject, mystify and pervert the language of Scripture,

and Dr. Chalmers does clearly intimate that it is no matter whether we

do what Christ commanded in this ordinance, or something else—which he

did not command. And I begin to fear that others on our side of this

controversy are in the same predicament. Whether those on the other side

are not equally inconsistent, I have yet to learn.”

“Well, my child, I don’t know what to do with you. You have no more

respect for the opinions of the learned and excellent ministers of our

church, than for those of the most ignorant people.”

“I am determined, mother, that I shall never trust any more to the mere

assertions of any man, or set of men, except those holy men who spake as

they were moved by the Holy Ghost. Whatever I can find for myself

clearly put down in The Book, that I will believe. Henceforth, the Bible

is my only guide, and I will myself judge of its meaning for myself.”

“But, my child, do you, can you, think that you are as competent to

judge of the true interpretation of the Word as the great and good men

who have given all their lives to its study?”

“No, mother; but how if these great and good men disagree? Must I turn

Catholic, and so secure an _infallible priest_? If I don’t do this, I

must maintain my right to my own private judgment. I am accountable only

to God; I will be guided only by his Word. I thought you and pastor

Johnson would have encouraged and assisted me in the investigation of

this or any other question connected with my religious faith and

practice. I know that he has always told us to examine the Scripture for

ourselves—and ‘each to be fully persuaded in his own mind.’”

“Certainly, my child; but then we thought that your investigations would

tend to confirm rather than shake your faith in our doctrines; but you

seem to be losing confidence rather than increasing it. These studies

seem only to disturb and unsettle your mind; and I fear, if you continue

them, they will end in your separation from us all. How, then, can I

help desiring that you should leave off these distressing

investigations? Till you do so, I can hardly feel that you are my own

dear Theodosia. You begin almost to feel like a stranger to me now. I

declare, I believe you will break my heart.” And, overcome by her

maternal feelings, she burst into a flood of tears, in which the

daughter freely joined.

THE THIRD NIGHT’S STUDY.

Which contains the testimony of the pastor’s witnesses, to prove that

John did not immerse at all, and that Christ did not go down into the

water, but was baptized by sprinkling on the bank of the river.

Third Night’s Study.

The Rev. Mr. Johnson had been the pastor of a large and wealthy

congregation for more than, twenty years. Most of the young people of

his charge had grown up under his pastoral supervision, and old and

young had been accustomed to regard his word as Gospel truth; and when

Miss Ernest ventured to suggest that she had never been baptized, and

asked him for the proof, it was probably the first time that one of the

“baptized children of his church” had ever expressed in his presence any

serious doubt of the full authority of his bare and unsupported word.

After the brief visit at Mrs. Ernest’s which we have recorded, he went

to his study and commenced the preparation of a sermon, which he hoped

and intended should prevent any others of his congregation from any

attempt to investigate this subject for themselves.

He did not propose in this discourse to mention the Baptists by name, or

to make any attempt to refute, or even to denounce their opinions or

practices. (To do so might direct attention to them, whereas he desired

to divert it from them.) But he determined to describe, and denounce as

degenerate and vile apostates, all those who, reckless of the

obligations which had been placed upon them in early infancy, and all

the thousand nameless ties which had, in childhood and youth, bound them

to the church in which they had been born, and solemnly dedicated to God

in baptism, in whose doctrines they had been instructed by parental

lips, and into whose communion they had been received by a public

profession of their faith, and who should, after all, be induced by some

new coming proselyter to abandon the faith of their fathers, and the

communion of their own church, and break off like wandering stars, to be

lost in the darkness of anti-Presbyterian errors.

This course, he was confident, would be more effectual in preserving the

peace and unity of his church, and the dignity of its pastor, than any

attempt to reason about the doctrines of this obscure sect of Baptists,

who had so suddenly begun to attract attention in his village. He would

overwhelm the doubters and inquirers with such a storm of public

indignation, that hereafter no one would dare to doubt; but in the

meantime it was necessary, privately, to satisfy such doubts as had

already been expressed.

When, therefore, he had arranged the heads of his discourse, he repaired

to his book-case, and took down such authorities as would refresh his

memory on the subject of baptism—especially in regard to the points of

difficulty suggested by Theodosia and Mr. Percy. The examination of

these occupied the time till in the night, and was resumed again the

next morning.

Very early the next evening, having his mind fully charged with all the

_“strong reasons”_ upon which Pedobaptists are accustomed to rest their

cause, he called on Mrs. Ernest and her daughter again.

“Well, madam,” said he, “how has our conversation the other evening

affected your daughter? I trust she has ceased to be so much distressed

about these new notions as she was.”

“Indeed, Mr. Johnson, she gets worse and worse, and I begin to think Mr.

Percy is going the same way. I am so sorry Edwin called in that little

Baptist schoolmaster. It made my heart burn to hear them talk as they

did about the good and pious ministers of our church. It seemed to me

they had no more respect for a minister of the Gospel, or even a Doctor

of Divinity, than they had for a house carpenter, or a French

dancing-master.”

“How so, Mrs Ernest? I am sure your daughter has been too well raised to

speak disrespectfully of any minister of the Gospel, or permit another

to do it in her presence.”

“That is just what I told her. I said I was ashamed of her, and—”

“But pray tell me, madam, what has happened? What was said that was so

improper?”

“Why, only to think that that little impertinent Baptist pedagogue had

the impudence to say, sir, here in my house, that our ministers

perverted the Scriptures, deluded their hearers, set aside the

ordinances of Christ, and substituted others in their place, and I don’t

know what all. I was so angry I could hardly see.”

“Is it possible! and your daughter heard all of this?”

“Yes, sir; and the worst of it is, I do fear, sir, she more than half

believes it. You can’t think how changed she is, sir! I never knew her

to have a particle of self-will before. She was always so gentle and

affectionate, and ready to yield every thing to any body; but on this

subject she is very stubborn, and declares she won’t believe a single

thing but what she can see in the Bible for herself, even though she had

it from your own lips, and all the rest of the preachers in our church.

“Oh, sir,” she continued, sobbing (for her maternal feelings had begun

to overcome her), “if you don’t do something for her she will be lost to

us all! Do try to show her _where that sprinkling is in the Bible_. If

she can see it there, she will believe it.”

Mr. Johnson was fully resolved to make her see the sprinkling, if he

could; but was not quite certain as to the _place_ where he would find

it; and before he had time to reflect much upon the subject, the young

lady came into the parlor.

She seemed for the moment sightly embarrassed, evidently from the

conviction that she had been the object of remark, but greeted her

pastor cordially and respectfully. It seemed to him, though she was

paler than before, that she had grown more beautiful in the last few

days. The unusual mental activity, the excitement of a new object of

investigation, and the calm, yet firm and solemn determination to learn

and to _do_ her whole duty, had imparted to her eye a new and intenser

light, and to her countenance a strange, unwonted brightness, as though

the spirit, stirred to its inmost depths by these new impulses, and

burning with celestial fire, shone through its covering of flesh, and

illuminated her face with almost more than mortal radiance.

Could it be possible, he asked himself, that this lovely young creature

could speak irreverently of sacred things?

Alas! how much her mother and himself had misapprehended the nature of

her feelings. Never in her life had sacred things appeared to her so

sacred. It was because those great and good men, whom she had been

accustomed from her infancy to look upon with reverence, now seemed to

her, themselves, to trifle with sacred things, that she could no longer

regard them as she had done. The Word of God; the commandments of Jesus

Christ; the ordinances of the Gospel; these were sacred things. Never so

fearfully sacred as now. And what could she think of those, who,

ministering at the altar of God, perverted and mystified his Word, to

hide the truth from those who sought for knowledge? What could she think

of those who counted the commandments of Christ, and the ordinances

which he had instituted, a _“matter of indifferency?”_ She had, indeed,

in some degree, ceased to reverence the (so-called) ministers of Christ,

who could be so false to their sacred obligations as to trifle with

God’s holy Word, in order to sustain a creed or a custom of their

church; but oh! how deep, how ardent, how unutterable was her reverence

for the Word itself! How anxious, how agonizing her desire to know what

it required her to believe and to perform.

It may be that the pastor had some suspicion of the true state of her

mind in this respect, for when he addressed her, it was with an

expression of unusual and most respectful consideration. He felt

instinctively that she was not now to be rated like a school-girl, or

convinced by unsustained assertions.

Indeed, he felt a strange restraint in the presence of the

earnest-hearted, strong-minded girl; and was revolving in his mind how

he could best introduce the subject which he came to talk of, when she

relieved him by introducing it herself.

“You did not have time the other evening,” said she, “to finish your

remarks on the subject of baptism. You told me, you will recollect, that

there was good and sufficient evidence to show that our Saviour was not

baptized in the river at all, and that he was baptized by sprinkling,

and, of course, if this was so, sprinkling is the Christian baptism.”

“You state the case a little too strongly, my daughter; I meant to say

only that there is no evidence that he was baptized in the river; and

that the baptism which he commanded (the baptism of the Gospel

dispensation) was performed by sprinkling.”

“Please, Mr. Johnson, don’t try to mystify me. Do you mean to say that

the baptism which Christ submitted to, and the baptism which he

commanded, were two different things, and that one was immersion, and

the other sprinkling?”

“Not exactly, my daughter; I only meant to say they might be different.

John’s baptism was not Christian baptism. It was the baptism of

repentance, designed to introduce Christianity. It prepared the way for

the Gospel, but was itself no part of the Gospel dispensation.”

“And yet, Mr. Johnson, Mark says it was ‘the beginning of the Gospel of

Jesus Christ.’ But it does not make any difference to me whether it was

Christian baptism or not. I simply want to know about the act performed.

John did something, which is called baptism. Multitudes came to him, and

were baptized by him in the river of Jordan. Jesus also came to him, and

was baptized in the river of Jordan. Then Jesus went himself into Judea,

and there he tarried and baptized; and at the same time John also was

baptizing in Ænon, near Salim; and Jesus baptized more than John

baptized. These baptisms were confined to the Jews; but after his death,

Jesus told the disciples to go and preach his Gospel to all _other_

nations, and baptize them; and we learn from the Acts that they who

gladly received the Word were baptized, both Jews and Gentiles.

“Now, what I want to know is this: when John baptized, he performed a

certain act. When Jesus and his disciples baptized, did they not perform

the same act? and when he commanded to baptize the Gentiles also, did he

not command the same act to be performed, and did not the disciples

perform the same act, in obedience to that command? The same word is

used, does it not mean the same thing?”

“If it does, my child, it must mean something else besides immersion,

for in many of these cases of baptism, immersion was out of the

question. In fact, it is very certain that John did not immerse those

whom he baptized; though if he had, it would not follow that Christ

commanded immersion. John may have done one thing, and Christ may have

commanded something else.”

“Very true, Mr. Johnson; he may have done it, but where is the proof

that he did? My name might have been Susan, but then I would not have

been called Theodosia. If he had meant another act, he would have used a

different word.”

“Not if the word might mean either one or the other. You know that we

contend that the word baptize means to sprinkle, to pour, to wet, to

wash,[1] as truly as it means to dip or to immerse.”

“Well, Mr. Johnson, even supposing it does have all these meanings, the

disciples must have understood the Saviour to use it (when speaking in

reference to his ordinance) in some one of them, and that one would be

fixed by his own example. What he received as baptism from John in

Jordan, they would ever after consider to be baptism; and would

necessarily suppose he meant that act when he used the word, even though

it had a hundred meanings. But if you will pardon me for being so

troublesome, I would like to know what proof there is that baptize in

the Greek language has all these various meanings? We looked into a

Greek Lexicon the other day to find the meaning of the word, and we

could not find any thing at all about sprinkling or pouring among the

definitions there.”

“_You_ looked in a Greek Lexicon. You can’t read Greek, can you?”

“No, sir; but brother Edwin is studying the language, and he found the

word, and I could read the definition.”

“And so you think you and Edwin are competent critics of a disputed

point in the Greek language?”

“Oh, no! Mr. Johnson, don’t laugh at me. If you knew how anxious I am to

learn the truth, I am sure you would sympathize with me and assist me.

We did not think we knew any thing about it, and that is the reason that

we went to the Lexicon to learn. It is not Edward’s opinion that I

referred to, but that of the learned Prof. Donegan. And Mr. Percy has

since examined quite a number of other Greek scholars upon the same

subject, and he has not found that any one of them gives sprinkling as

one of the meanings of baptize, though all agree in dipping.”

“And so you, and Edwin, and Mr. Percy set yourselves up to teach such

men as Dr. Miller and other learned theological writers of our church,

the meaning of the Greek language! Don’t you intend presently to write a

commentary on the Scriptures? or a book of Practical Divinity? Edited

jointly by Miss Ernest and Mr. Percy!”

The young lady looked at her pastor in astonishment. She blushed deeply;

tears filled her eyes, and her utterance was choked. She had expected

sympathy and assistance; she met with ridicule and rebuke. Poor girl,

she did not know how hard it is for one who has long been accustomed to

rule other minds, and have his bare assertion received as unquestionable

truth, to be called on for _proof_. If he said baptize meant to

sprinkle, what right had she, poor, simple girl, to doubt his word or

ask for evidence? Why, even he, a minister of the Gospel, had never

asked for proof when Dr. Miller said it. He had always taken it for

granted that baptism was sprinkling, or such men as Dr. Miller would not

have asserted that it was; nor would the church have enjoined or

permitted it.

There was an awkward pause in the conversation, for Theodosia was too

deeply mortified and embarrassed to know how to begin again.

Mr. Johnson saw that he had made a deep impression, though he did not

feel quite certain of its nature. And he said, very mildly, “My dear

child, don’t pretend to be wiser than your teachers. I can solemnly

assure you, as a Christian man and a Christian minister, that the word

we render baptize does legitimately signify the application of water in

any way as well as by immersion, no matter what the Lexicons may say;

and if so, sprinkling is as much baptism as dipping. The quantity of

water used does not affect the validity of the ordinance.”

To this Theodosia did not reply. She felt that it was useless to ask

again for proof; and if she did not feel disposed to trust even her

pastor’s solemn declaration in regard to the meaning of baptize, it was

because she remembered that Dr. Barnes had proved it to mean “not to

sprinkle,” but “to dip;” that Stuart admitted this to be its prevalent

and common signification; that the great Dr. Chalmers expressly asserted

that its meaning was to dip, and that it was immersion which was

practiced in the early churches; that McKnight and other most eminent

and learned Pedobaptists all agreed perfectly with the Lexicons in

giving immersion as its true meaning, and proving that such was the

understanding and practice of the apostolic churches. What Baptists

might teach she did not know, for as yet she had not read a Baptist

book. She had common sense enough to understand that if there had been

any sprinkling or pouring in the Word, such men as Stuart, and Chalmers,

and McKnight, would have been sure to find it and parade it before the

world as a justification of their practice. Though she was silent,

therefore, she was far from being satisfied.

Mr. Johnson, acting on the adage that “silence gives consent,”

considered this point as settled; “and now,” he continued, “if this be

the case, if the word means to sprinkle or to pour, as well as to

immerse, it is evident that John might have dipped, and Christ might

have commanded sprinkling, and yet have used the same word which is used

to describe John’s baptism. I might rest the case here; but I will go

farther, and assert that John’s baptism _was not immersion at all_.”

“Good evening, Mr. Johnson, I am glad to hear you say that,” said Mr.

Percy, who chanced to come in at the moment, and heard this strange

assertion. “If we can only establish that position we will throw the

Baptists out of court.”

“Nothing is easier done, Mr. Percy,” said the pastor. “It could not have

been immersion, in the first place, _because immersion was impossible_.”

“Of course,” said Mr. Percy, “if immersion was impossible, it could not

have been immersion. What was impossible could not have been done.”

“Very well, then, that settles the question, for it was clearly

impossible for John to have immersed the thousands and thousands (not to

say the millions) that resorted to him for baptism.”

“I don’t know about that,” said Mr. Percy. “In the first place, we must

determine just how many there were, and then just how many John was able

to dip. Do you know how many there were?”

“Not precisely,” said the pastor, “but there were great multitudes. The

Evangelist says, Jerusalem and all Judea, and all the region round about

Jordan, went to him and were baptized. Now the population of Jerusalem

itself was a prodigious multitude, and that of all Judea added to it

would surely be more than one man could dip in the time of John’s public

ministry.”

“But,” said Mr. Percy, “it does not say that _all the inhabitants went_.

It says the _places_ went; by which we are to understand, that some of

each place mentioned went. Just as if I should say, that in the great

political Convention of 1840, all Tennessee was gathered at Nashville to

hear Henry Clay. I would not mean that every man, woman, and child in

the State was there, but only that there were some from every part of

it. Just so, Matthew says Jerusalem came—that is, a great many people

from Jerusalem and Judea, and the country round about Jordan came; that

is to say, the country as well as the city was fully represented in the

crowd. Besides, John did not baptize all who came. He positively refused

the Pharisees and Sadducees, who composed a great part of the Jewish

nation. I do not see, therefore, that we have any means of knowing the

exact number of the baptized.”

“But it can’t be denied,” said the pastor, “that it was an immense

multitude, too many for one man to have immersed.”

“Will you permit me to ask a question?” said Theodosia, timidly (for she

had become almost afraid to speak at all, since that suggestion of the

pastor about a joint editorship with Mr. Percy in a body of divinity.)

“Will you permit me to ask how much longer it would take to _immerse_

them, one at a time, than it would to _sprinkle_ them one at a time, in

a decent and reverent way?”

“We do not know,” said the pastor, “that they were sprinkled _one at a

time_. They might have stood in regular ranks along the bank, and John

taking a bunch of hyssop might have dipped it in the river and sprinkled

them by dozens as he passed along.”

“Or,” suggested Mr. Percy, “he might have provided himself with a large

sized syringe or squirt gun, and filling it from the river have turned

its stream along the ranks, as I have seen the boys do at school,

sprinkling a whole bench of boys before the master could see who did

it.”

This was uttered with such a perfectly serious air that the pastor was

obliged to receive it as an amendment to his own supposition, though he

could not help seeing in what a ridiculous light it placed both the

baptizer and his subjects; and surely, there is, in the narrative of the

Evangelists, quite as much evidence of the use of the squirt as of the

hyssop.

“There is another thought,” said Theodosia, “which it seems to me, will

obviate all the difficulty in the way of either a personal dipping or a

separate sprinkling of each individual. The Evangelist says that Jesus

made and baptized _more_ disciples than John—and when the disciples were

gathered together after his death, there does _not seem to have been a

very great multitude_. So it is probable, I should think, that though

great multitudes _came to John_, and great multitudes _followed Christ_,

yet comparatively few brought forth fruit to justify their baptism. And

besides this, as Jesus is said to have baptized, though he did not do it

personally, but by his disciples, so John may have done a portion of

_his_ baptizing by _his disciples_.”

“Spoken like yourself, Miss Theodosia,” said Mr. Percy. “That does

indeed obviate all difficulty. The baptism, whatever it was, must have

been a personal, individual transaction; and as it would take as long to

sprinkle a person, and say over the proper formula of words, as it would

to dip him, one is just as possible as the other, and either entirely

practicable with the aid of the disciples. Don’t you think so, Mr.

Johnson?”

“No, I do not; but let it pass. I have another reason for believing that

John did not immerse. It says expressly that he baptized in Bethabara,

beyond Jordan—and in the wilderness, as well as at the much waters or

many waters of Ænon, and at the river Jordan. Now, as there is no

mention made of a river at Bethabara, or of a lake in the wilderness, it

is fair to infer that no great quantity of water was required—and,

consequently, whatever he may have done in Jordan, he did not immerse in

Bethabara or in the wilderness.”

“Why not, Mr. Johnson? I can easily understand that he was baptizing in

the wilderness, Bethabara, and Jordan _at one and the same time_. The

Jews (as I have learned in my Sunday-school lessons) called any sparsely

settled place a wilderness; and Bethabara was a ford or a ferry-house,

on the east bank of the Jordan. If the neighborhood was lonely, it would

be said to be in the wilderness; and a baptism performed in the Jordan,

at that place, might be said with equal propriety to be performed in the

wilderness; in Bethabara, or in Jordan. Just as I might say that a

person was baptized in Davidson county, or in the city of Nashville,

though the act was performed in the Cumberland river, where it passes

the city.”

“Well,” said Mr. Johnson, “I do not insist on this point; and I leave it

more readily, as I have an argument that is perfectly _unanswerable_;

and that is, that John says himself that he _did not immerse_—over and

over again he repeated this testimony: ‘I indeed baptize you _with_

water, but he that cometh after me shall baptize you _with_ the Holy

Ghost and _with_ fire.’ ‘I am come,’ he says, ‘baptizing _with_ water;’

and again: ‘he that sent me to baptize _with_ water.’ Now, when I want

to know how John baptized, I go right up to the reverend man with the

hairy garment, and ask him to tell me for himself. ‘Did you baptize by

immersion?’ ‘No, sir; I baptize _with_ water, not _in_ water. I was sent

to baptize _with_ water, not _in_ water—as he that cometh after me

baptizes _with_ the Holy Ghost, not in the Holy Ghost, and _with_ fire,

not _in_ fire. So I baptize _with_ water, not _in_ the water. I apply

the water to the subject, not the subject to the water.’”

“There does seem to be some force in that,” said Mr. Percy.

“To be sure, there not only seems to be, but there _is_ a world of force

in it. It is perfectly unanswerable, sir. I am willing to rest our cause

on this one point alone. You can easily understand how one can sprinkle

with water, or pour upon with water, but no one would ever speak of

_immersing =with= water_.”

Theodosia began to think of her pastor as she had done before his visit.

He was not, after all, disposed to rest _every thing_ on his bare word.

He had the proof, and had produced it, and that, too, just as she

desired, from the Book itself. Still there was a difficulty. If John did

not immerse, why did he baptize in the river? Why did Jesus, after he

was baptized, come up out of the water?

These were insuperable difficulties, but she knew not how to present

them without seeming wiser than her teacher.

Mr. Johnson, seemingly satisfied with the victory he had won, was about

to take his leave, although it was yet early, promising to call again

soon, and show that there was no instance of immersion as baptism

recorded in the whole New Testament.

“Not only is it true,” said he, “that John did not immerse, but there is

no recognition of immersion as baptism in the Book. Neither before the

death of Christ, nor afterward, did the disciples ever dip the baptized

person in the water.”

“Please stop a minute longer,” said Mr. Percy. “While we are on John’s

baptism, I want to ask a single question. If John did not immerse, why

did he baptize in the river? If Jesus was not immersed, how does it

happen that he had been in the water? If Philip did not immerse the

Ethiopian Eunuch, for what reason did they go down both of them into the

water, before the baptism, and come up out of it after it was done?

Nobody in these days goes down into the water to baptize unless he is a

Baptist.”

“They did not go into the water, then,” replied Mr. Johnson, “any more

than we Presbyterians do now. There is no proof that John, or Jesus, or

Philip, or the Eunuch, ever went into the water at all.”

“How can that be,” asked Theodosia, “when the Scripture says expressly

that they were baptized ‘in the river of Jordan,’ and that Jesus ‘came

up out of the water,’ and that both Philip and the Eunuch ‘went down

into the water,’ and ‘came up out of the water?’”

“I know it reads so in our version,” said the pastor, “but in the

original it reads _near_ or _at the river_, not in it. And _down to the

water_, not _into_ it, and up _from_ the water, not _out of_ it.”

“Were the translators of our version Baptists?” asked Mr. Percy.

“No, sir. It is well known that they were of the Church of England.”

“Had they any motive to favor the cause of the Baptists?”

“Nome at all, that I can conceive of.”

“How, then, did they come to make such blundering work?” “I cannot tell;

but if they had known that the Baptists would make such a handle of

these little words ‘_in_, and _out of_,’ I have no doubt they would have

been more cautious. I hope now, Miss Theodosia, that your mind is

relieved. I will try to see you again to-morrow, when we will finish the

subject. For the present, I must bid you good-night.”

Theodosia accompanied him to the door, to light him out, and glancing up

the street in the opposite direction to that which he took, she

discovered Edwin and Mr. Courtney returning from an evening recitation,

and could not resist the desire to hear what the teacher might have to

say about baptizing with the water at the bank of the river. She

accordingly waited till he came by, and invited him in.

“Well, Courtney,” said Mr. Percy, as he entered the parlor, “we have got

you in a tight place now.”

“Why? what has happened? Any thing wonderful? You look as though you

thought so.”

“Yes, sir. The truth is, Mr. Johnson _did_ have some strong reasons, and

he has brought them out on us to-night. He has in fact _proved_ what he

said, and what you seemed to think impossible; that John’s baptism was

_not_ immersion, and that the Saviour never went into the water at all,

but was sprinkled on the bank.”

“Well, how did he make all that out?”

“From the testimony of John himself. John says that he baptized not _in_

but _with_ water. It is easy to conceive of sprinkling with water, but

no one ever heard of immersing with water.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes, that is the substance of the argument.”

“Is it possible,” said Mr. Courtney, “that a minister of Jesus Christ

can take such liberties with the Word of God!”

“What do you mean? Mr. Courtney. Is it not all so?” asked Theodosia, in

alarm, for she felt that if her pastor had deceived her, even in this

point, she could never trust the word of any one again upon this

subject.

“Mr. Percy,” said Mr. Courtney, “can you read Greek? But never mind,

Edwin shall set us right.”

“I can read a little, and, when in practice, could do as well as most of

our graduates,” said Mr. Percy.

“Well, then, you can judge if I attempt to deceive you. Now, what will

you say if you find that John’s assertion, so often repeated, reads in

the Greek Testament, in every instance, I baptize you _‘in’_ water,

never _‘with,’_ in a single case? What will you say if you read, not

only that Christ was baptized _‘in’_ Jordan, but _‘into’_ the river of

Jordan?”

“Why, I will say that you have gained a victory over all the doubts and

difficulties which remained in my mind, and I will be convinced that

John immersed, and that Jesus was immersed by him in Jordan.”

“And I,” said Theodosia, “will be convinced that theologians are the

strangest people in the world.”

“Say rather, Presbyterian or Pedobaptist theologians, Miss Ernest, for

the Baptists do not have to bear up and twist about under such a load of

error and inconsistency, and can consequently afford to talk, right out,

the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. They can afford

to take the Bible, the whole Bible, and nothing but the Bible, with

every word translated into plain English, and abide by its decisions.

They shun on investigation, avoid no controversy, and have no need to

change or keep concealed one single word of the holy record. But let us

to our task, for it is growing late. Edwin, have you your Greek

Testament here?”

“Yes, sir; and my Lexicon and Grammar.”

“Please bring them in.”

“Edwin, can you tell us what is the primary and ordinary meaning of the

Greek preposition ‘_en_’?”

“It means _in_, sir; or within, with the idea of rest in a place.” (See

Bullion’s Greek Grammar, p. 170.)

“What is the difference between _en_ and _eis_?”

“_Eis_ signifies motion from without to within. _En_ corresponds to the

English preposition _in_—_eis_ corresponds to the English _into_.”

“I asked those questions, Mr. Percy, not on your account, but to satisfy

Miss Ernest. You are perfectly aware (as every school-boy who has gotten

through his Greek Grammar must be) of the correctness of Edwin’s

answers.

“Now be kind enough to take the Greek Testament, and find John i. 26—‘I

baptize with water.’ How does it read?”

“It reads, ‘_baptizo en udati_,’ _in_ water, true enough.”

“And so you will find it in every place. See the 31st verse, ‘_en_’

again; so in the 33d, and every place where this expression, which your

pastor so much relies upon, can be found.

“In any other Greek book, any school-boy would, without hesitation,

translate it, ‘I immerse you _in_ water.’ ‘I am come immersing in

water,’ etc. But now, if you will turn to Mark i. 9, you will find that

the preposition is not ‘_en_,’ but ‘_eis_.’ So that Jesus is said to

have been baptized or dipped, not merely _in_ but (‘_eis_’) _into_ the

river of Jordan.

“Now these two words, _en_ and _eis_, are the only words by which the

Greek language could express, without circumlocution, the idea of going

into, or being in a thing or place; and therefore, if neither of them

says that the baptism was done _in_ the river, I do not see how it

_could_ be said to have been done there.

“Now I grant that, very rarely, _en_ does mean with, and that it

sometimes, though very seldom, does mean at, or near; but neither of

these is the primary, common, every-day use of the word. _En_ means

_in_, in Greek, as much as in does in English. _Eis_ means _into_, in

Greek, as much as _into_ does in English.”

“But, Mr. Courtney, there must be some foundation for Mr. Johnson’s

supposition, that _en_ means _with_, or it would not have been so

translated.”

“Very true, Miss Ernest. _En_ does sometimes (though very rarely) mean

_with_ in the sense of the instrument—by which an action is

accomplished. But when a man would found an argument on its having that

meaning in every particular case, he must _first prove that such is OR

NECESSITY ITS MEANING IN THAT INSTANCE_. If ‘_En udati_?’ necessarily

meant _with_ water—if that was even its common, primary meaning, as it

would be naturally understood in any other book, or in connection with

any other subject, then it might form the basis for an argument; but no

school-boy would think of any thing else but _in_ water, whenever he

would see it; and, consequently, for a classical scholar, like your

pastor, to form an argument upon ‘_with_,’ as the common meaning of

‘_en_,’ is indicative either of great carelessness, or wilful perversion

of the Word of God.

“Here is a fact which will enable you to form some more definite

conception of the nature of the case. Some very industrious gentleman

has counted the places, and so ascertained that this little preposition

‘EN’ occurs no less than two thousand seven hundred and twenty times in

the New Testament. In about twenty-five hundred of these places, it is

in our version correctly rendered IN. In over twenty other places, _in_

would _better_ express the evident meaning of the original. In only

about forty places, out of over twenty-seven hundred, does it of

necessity mean _with_, in the sense of the instrument or material with

which any thing is done. The chances, therefore, are as twenty-seven

hundred to forty, that an argument based on the word ‘_with_’ (where it

stands for the Greek word ‘_en_’) will lead to a false conclusion, and

the chances are as twenty-seven hundred to forty that an argument based

on ‘_in_,’ as the real meaning of the word, will lead to a true

conclusion. I baptize you in water, or, if we translate both words, I

immerse, or more properly, I _dip_ you _in_ water, is therefore the true

reading.”

“But why, Mr. Courtney, should our translators have employed ‘_with_’

whenever ‘_en_’ occurs in connection with baptize?”

“Tor the same reason, Miss Ernest, that they refused to translate

baptize. They were forbidden by King James to change the ‘Ecclesiastical

words.’ They must not teach immersion. But if they had said baptize

‘_in_’ water, it would have been just as plain that there was no

sprinkling or pouring in the ordinance, as though they had translated

‘baptize’ in the New Testament, in the same way that you have seen they

did in the Old, in all the places where (according to Mr. Barnes) the

word occurs.

“But they did not use ‘_with_,’ in every case, because that construction

would have been, in some instances, such a monstrous perversion, that

every one could see it. They did not venture to say that the people were

baptized WITH _the river of Jordan_, confessing their sins; or that

Christ was baptized WITH _the Jordan_; or that John was baptizing WITH

_the wilderness_. Mark i. 4. It was only where the connection did not

make the meaning clearly obvious to the unlearned, that they ventured to

mystify the ordinance by the substitution of with, in the place of the

common and primary meaning of the ‘_en_.’”

“If I do not forget,” said Mr. Percy, “_with_, when signifying the

instrument by which any thing is done, is in the Greek language,

commonly expressed by ‘_dia_’ construed with the genitive.”

“Yes; but even if John had said ‘_dia_,’ instead of ‘_en_,’ the pastor

would have had no sufficient basis for his argument; for even ‘_dia_’

would have been a very slight, and very narrow, and very sandy

foundation. It would only have told that it was _water_, and not oil, or

mud, or sand, or any other instrument or material with which the baptism

was performed. It would have said nothing at all about the _mode_ of

performing the act. If I say that the cloth of which my coat was made

was colored with a solution of indigo, I don’t even intimate that the

solution was sprinkled on it or poured on it. The cloth was _dipped_ in

it. I only mean that it was dipped _in indigo_, not in logwood, or

madder, or any other dye-stuff. If I say that the leather of which my

boots are made, was tanned _with_ an infusion of hemlock bark, I don’t

deny that it was dipped in the infusion, I only mean that it was

hemlock, not black oak, or red oak, or any other kind of material that

was used.”

“Oh, yes!” exclaimed Edwin, who all the time had been a most attentive,

though a silent listener. “I asked old aunt Chloe, the cook, only this

morning, how she would get the feathers off the chicken she was killing

for dinner. ‘I will scald it,’ said she, ‘_with_ hot water.’ And I went

into the kitchen, and saw her doing it by _putting it into_ the water.

And big Joe, the butcher, when he killed our hogs last Christmas,

loosened the bristles and hair _with_ hot water, but he did it by

_immersion_, for he dipped them several times into the barrel and then

pulled them out and scraped them.”

“That will do, Edwin,” said Mr. Percy, laughing. “I see we must give it

up. If you won’t give us any more illustrations, I will promise never to

mention ‘_with_’ again, by way of argument on this subject, as long as I

live; and seriously, Mr. Courtney, I feel that I have reason to be

ashamed of myself for having been so easily imposed upon by this mere

semblance of argument, presented with so much parade, and such an air of

confidence, by our pastor, Mr. Johnson. I shall soon begin, like Miss

Ernest, to lose confidence in all teachings but those of the Bible, and

in all teachers but my own judgment.”

“These, sir, are your only safeguards,” replied Mr. Courtney; “but it is

well to remember, that, though God’s word is infallible, our judgment

may be biased by our feelings; and when we study the Word, therefore, we

should pray for a _heart willing to receive_, and a _will ready to obey_

all the commandments of our Heavenly Master. The difficulty with many

persons is not so much that they _cannot understand_ as they are

_unwilling to obey_. You will, I fear, find it much easier to satisfy

your mind that immersion is the only scriptural baptism, than to abandon

your church connections, and submit to be baptized according to the

commandment of Jesus Christ. But I must bid you good-night. It is time I

was at home.”

THE FOURTH NIGHT’S STUDY.

Which begins in the day, and includes, among other strange things, the

pastor’s proof that immersion was not practiced by the apostles any more

than it had been by John.

The baptism of the Holy Ghost.

The baptism of the three thousand.

Fourth Night’s Study.

On the following day, the Rev. Mr. Johnson called at Mrs. Ernest’s

cottage soon after dinner. Mrs. E. was delighted with this evident token

of his interest in her daughter’s welfare. She had now given up all hope

of inducing her to abandon the investigation; and was only anxious to

get through with it as soon as possible. Much as she had disliked Mr.

Courtney’s remarks at the time of his first call, she made no objection

to the second visit; and even went so far as to ask her daughter why she

did not invite some of the Baptists to meet Mr. Johnson face to face,

when she would see what would become of all their hard sayings about the

“Ministers of our church.”

“That little Baptist pedagogue,” said she, “would no more dare to say

such things as he did about Dr. Barnes, and Dr. Chalmers, and Dr.

McKnight, in the presence of Mr. Johnson, than he would to put his head

into the lion’s mouth. He finds that he can twist you and Mr. Percy

about his thumb just as he pleases, but let him come where Mr. Johnson

is, or any body else who has studied this subject, and I’ll warrant you

he will be as mute as a mouse.”

“Well, Miss Theodosia,” said the pastor, as soon as the young lady came

in, and had exchanged with him the compliments of the morning, “I proved

to you last evening, I trust beyond the shadow of a doubt, that John’s

baptism was not immersion. And now, as I have an hour to spare, I will,

if you can give me your attention, show you that we have quite as good

ground for believing that the Apostles did not immerse any more than

John did; and that in fact there was never any such a thing as even a

single instance of immersion as baptism mentioned in the sacred

Scriptures.”

(Theodosia was about to interrupt him, and ask some further explanation

concerning the Greek preposition “_en_,” and the English preposition

“_with_;” but remembering the “Book of Divinity,” and thinking it safer

not to seem “wiser than her teacher,” she continued silent. He went on,

therefore, in blissful ignorance of the utter overthrow of all the

beautiful edifice which he had so ingeniously erected the night before.)

“Now be kind enough to get your Bible, and turn to Acts i. 5.”

“Yes, yes, Mr. Johnson,” said the mother, “that is the way to study the

subject. Show it to her in the Bible itself, for she declares she won’t

believe a single word but what she can see in the Bible with her own

eyes.”

“Well, then, here it is; just read it, my child.”

Theodosia read, “For John indeed baptized with water, but ye shall be

baptized with the Holy Ghost, not many days hence.” And as she read, she

could not help giving the passage, in her mind, the true rendering,

“John indeed immersed you _in_ water,” etc.

“You see from this,” resumed the pastor, “that not only John himself

said that he baptized _with_ water, but that Jesus Christ also declared

the same thing. But that is not the point to which I wish now to direct

your attention. We settled that point yesterday. (Yes! thought

Theodosia, but it did not continue settled.) What I want you to notice

now is the prophetic declaration in this text: ‘Ye shall be baptized

with the Holy Ghost not many days hence.’ Now turn to the second

chapter, and you will see the fulfilment of this prediction. When the

day of Pentecost was fully come, they were all with one accord in one

place, and then and there they received this baptism of the Holy Spirit.

Now tell me how this baptism was performed. Just read the 17th verse and

you will see. ‘And it shall come to pass in the last days, saith God,

that I will _pour out_ of my spirit,’ etc. And now read the 33d verse:

‘Therefore being by the right hand of God exalted, and having received

of the Father the promise of the Holy Ghost, he hath shed forth this,

which ye now see and hear.’ Here then you see that the influences of the

Spirit are called a _baptism_, and they are distinctly said to be

‘_poured out_,’ and to be ‘_shed forth_.’ And from this it follows, as a

matter of course, that baptism is _pouring_ and _shedding forth_ or

_sprinkling_. I do not see how it is possible for any thing to be

clearer or more convincing than this.”

“Certainly,” exclaimed Mrs. Ernest, the mother; “that must convince any

body in the world. I should like to know what the schoolmaster could say

to that. I do wish, Mr. Johnson, you would preach a sermon on this

subject, and just set the matter at rest.”

“Pardon me, Mr. Johnson,” said Theodosia, “if this argument does not

appear so conclusive to me as it seems to you. I was reading this very

chapter this morning, and the same difficulty came into my mind then

which you have presented now. It was on my mind when I engaged in

prayer, and it was not until nearly dinner time that I was able to see

clearly how it could be that baptism _is immersion_, and yet the Spirit

be said to be _poured out_ in this most remarkable baptism. Now it is

all perfectly plain.”

“Well, Miss Ernest, will you please favor us with your explanations?”

“Certainly,” she replied. “Mr. Barnes, in his Notes on Matthew xx. 29,

explains baptism in suffering and distress, to be an overwhelming of the

soul with great and intense afflictions. ‘Are you able,’ he says, ‘to be

plunged deep in afflictions, and to have sorrows cover you like water,

and to be sunk beneath calamities as a flood?’ Now in this there is no

literal immersion, but the sorrow is represented as covering and

swallowing up the mind as water does the body in the act of baptism. It

is a metaphorical but not a real baptism.

“So in the case before us. As Christ had told James and John that they

should be immersed or overwhelmed by sufferings and sorrows, so now he

tells all the disciples that they shall in a few days be immersed or

overwhelmed by the influences of the Holy Spirit. That these influences

should cover, overpower, and swallow up their _minds_, as the water in

baptism did their _bodies_. It is no more a literal baptism than the

baptism of suffering in Matthew. It is a metaphor; and the allusion is

not to the act done in baptism, so much as to the _result_; that is, the

_swallowing up_ and _overwhelming_ of their minds by the flood of life,

and light, and joy, and heavenly influence which that day came upon

their souls.”

If the mother was surprised at the temerity of her daughter in venturing

to differ from her pastor (to her a most unheard-of event), yet her

maternal pride was so much gratified by the force and beauty of her

reasoning, that she could not be angry, and there was even a smile—a

_very slight_ smile of exultation, which crept along the curves of her

mouth, as her daughter, with animated face, and a new and strange light

in her soul illumining her eyes, entered into the discussion; and from

this time forth (though she was determined never to be convinced that

her pastor was or could be wrong) she could not help feeling secretly

gratified whenever her daughter had the best of the argument; and she

inwardly enjoyed the evident amazement and perplexity depicted in the

Rev. Mr. Johnson’s face.

He was amazed, that _one_ of the “baptized children of his church”

should have ventured not only to _differ_ from his opinions, so forcibly

expressed, but even to _reason_ with him out of the Scriptures. He was

perplexed, because he could not, for the moment, see what reply he could

successfully make.

“Surely, Mr. Johnson,” resumed the young lady, after a moment’s pause,

“you do not imagine that there was in this Pentecostal baptism any

_real, actual, literal pouring out_ of the Spirit, like water is poured

out of a pitcher, or any literal sprinkling of the Spirit, as the

minister sprinkles the water off from the ends of his fingers?”

“It does not matter at all,” he replied, “whether it was literal or

figurative, actual or metaphorical, the conclusion must be the same in

any case. There is here clearly a baptism, a scriptural baptism; a

baptism, too, of the Gospel dispensation; and this baptism was performed

by pouring. Jesus Christ prophetically foretold that they should be

baptized with the Holy Ghost; and when the prophecy was fulfilled, Peter

says expressly that the Holy Ghost was poured out.”

“But he does not say, Mr. Johnson, that the _pouring out was the

baptism_. The Holy Spirit _cannot_ be literally poured out, or sprinkled

out, nor could the disciples be literally immersed in him, any more than

they had already been; for he is, and always was, everywhere present,

and had always surrounded them on every side. It was clearly impossible,

therefore, that there could be any literal baptism, in any sense of the

word, by sprinkling, pouring, or immersion. It was not the third-person

of the trinity, the Divine Spirit, that was poured out and shed forth,

but the miraculous and wonderful _influences_ of the spirit, operating

on the hearts and minds of the disciples and others. And if these

_influences_ were so powerful, and so universal, as to surround and

overpower the minds of the Apostles, they might most beautifully and

appropriately be said to be immersed in them. The baptism of _the

spirit_ is a _soul_ baptism, not a baptism of the _body_; and the

_minds_ of the disciples are represented by Christ as about to be taken

so completely into the control and direction of the Holy Spirit, that

they would, as it were, be _immersed in it and swallowed up by it_. Such

a baptism actually did occur. The minds of the disciples were thus

overwhelmed and swallowed up by the wonderful influences of the Spirit

of God; and this is what, it seems to me, was intended by Jesus, when he

said they would be immersed in the Holy Ghost.”

“Well, as to that,” rejoined the mother (whose heart had begun already

to follow her daughter), “I can see that their bodies were immersed too,

as well as their souls, for there came a sound as of a rushing mighty

wind, and it filled all the house where they were sitting; and of course

it covered them all up, and entirely surrounded them, and they were in

this way immersed in it.”

“If the pouring,” resumed Theodosia, encouraged by this open expression

of her mother’s approval, “if the pouring had any thing to do with the

baptism at all, it was only by way of preparation; for as water might be

poured into a vessel preparatory to immersing any object or person in

it, so the preparation of the Holy Spirit for these wonderful influences

might be here called his _pouring out_, as such preparation is sometimes

called a _coming down_, or an _entering into_, or a _springing up_.”

“I am ready to admit,” said the pastor, “that these Pentecostal

influences were called a baptism by Jesus Christ _only in a figure_. I

hope neither of you think me so silly as to be capable of believing that

the _personal substance_ (if I may speak so) of the Holy Spirit could be

literally poured out or sprinkled. But while it is true that this

baptism was a figure, it is equally true that our baptism is a figure

also. It is designed to exhibit in an emblematical manner the cleansing

and purifying influences of the Holy Spirit in our hearts; how very

beautiful and appropriate is it, therefore, as the Holy Spirit is

represented as being figuratively poured out, in this baptism, that the

water with represents his influences should be _actually_ poured out on

us when we are baptized.”

“It might indeed,” said Theodosia, “have been a very beautiful and

appropriate emblem, and had our Saviour thought as highly of it as you

do, HE probably would have appointed it. But HE seems to have preferred

_immersion in water_; and this, while it may signify the cleansing of

the Holy Spirit, equally well, or better than the other, signifies also

our death and burial to sin, and our living again to righteousness; and

it is thus that Paul explains it when he says, ‘we are buried with him

by baptism into death, that as Christ was raised from the dead, so we

should walk in newness of life.’ It serves also to remind us of the

burial and resurrection of Jesus, and prefigures also our own coming

death, burial, and resurrection.”

“What Baptist book have you been reading to learn all that?”

“I found it, Mr. Johnson, in a Presbyterian book; in the Notes of Dr.

James McKnight on the 6th of Romans. I have never read any Baptist book

in my life, unless (as I greatly suspect) the Bible is a Baptist book.”

“I fear—I greatly fear, my child,” rejoined the pastor, “that you are

running into very serious and alarming errors. I have exhorted you, and

reasoned with you, but I fear my labors have been almost in vain. And

now, before I take my leave, I feel it my duty solemnly to warn you

before God, to take heed where you are going. I should be greatly

pained, if we should find it necessary to expel you from the church.”

“Expel me from the church! Why, Mr. Johnson, what do you mean? Have I

been guilty of any improper conduct? What have I done?”

“Nothing as yet, my child. I am happy to say, you have always been a

faithful and consistent communicant since you first approached the table

of the Lord. But now I find you growing wayward and self-willed,

whereas, the Scripture says, ‘be not high-minded, but fear—and be in

subjection to those who have the rule over you in the Lord.’ As yet, you

have only imbibed some false and injurious notions on the subject of one

of the ordinances of the church. So far, this has not led you to any

overt act of evil which could subject you to the discipline of the

church, but if you persevere in this way, and especially, _if by your

conduct and conversation you lead others_ to distrust the purity of our

doctrines, the propriety of our practice, and validity of our

ordinances, it will become our painful duty to deal with you as a

disturber of the peace and unity of the church.”

The pastor uttered this significant warning with all due solemnity of

countenance and impressiveness of manner, but it did not have the effect

upon the young lady which he had expected. A week before this time she

would have heard it with very different emotions. Now she had not only

learned to fear God rather than man, but she had, upon her bended knees,

solemnly resolved before her Maker and Redeemer that, in regard to this

subject, she would both learn and do her whole duty, whatever it might

cost her.

This was indeed an unexpected, and, to her sensitive spirit, a most

terrible test of the sincerity and firmness of that resolution, but it

did not cause her to waver even for one moment.

She did, indeed, turn deathly pale. Her chin quivered, and the light for

a moment went out in her eye. It was but for a moment, however, and

before he had completed the speech, the blood had come back to her face,

and her eyes were suffused with tears, which, however, did not overflow;

and perfect collectedness of mind and calmness of manner, though with a

scarcely perceptible tremulousness of voice, she mildly replied:

“If it was your purpose, Mr. Johnson, to deter me from making a

conscientious and complete investigation of this subject, and then

governing my conduct by the written word of God, I beg you will remember

that you have yourself instructed me that I ought to obey God rather

than man—and this, God helping me, I mean to do, whatever may be the

consequences to me or others.”

“No, no, my child, you do not understand me. I desire you should be

governed by the word of God; but I would have you remember that God has

given you _teachers_ to help you to a true understanding of his word. It

is for this purpose that he has appointed us his ministers, to guide the

young, instruct the ignorant, and make known to all what are the

teachings of that word.”

“But what if our ministers should chance to disagree? Am I to remain all

my life in doubt, or take the matter into my own hands and decide for

myself? Will the ministers answer for me in the day of judgment? _You_

tell me, Mr. Johnson, that Jesus Christ was sprinkled, but James

McKnight, another eminent minister of our own church, a Doctor of

Divinity, and for twenty years the Moderator of the General Assembly of

the Presbyterian church in the country where he lived, tells me _‘that

Jesus submitted to be baptized, that is, to be put under the water and

taken out again by John;_’ and Dr. Chalmers, another most eminent

minister of our church, tells me ‘_that the meaning of the word baptism

is immersion;_’ Martin Luther, the great reformer, says expressly, that

_it was immersion which was, ‘without doubt, instituted by Christ;_’ and

John Calvin, the father and founder of our Presbyterian church,

distinctly states that ‘_the word baptize signifies to immerse, and the

rite of immersion was practiced by the ancient church!_’”

“Yes, my child, but then do not all these great and good men, at the

same time assure you that it is a matter of no importance which way the

rite is performed?”

“They do, indeed; but that is only their own private or individual

opinion. They don’t even pretend that the word of God teaches that it is

of no consequence whether we do what Christ commanded or not. I cannot

think, like Dr. Chalmers, that it is a ‘matter of indifferency,’ or like

Calvin, that ‘it is of no consequence at all.’ I dare not set aside the

commandments of Christ for the doctrines of men; and if you will pardon

me for saying it, I do not see how any minister of Jesus Christ _can

dare to teach such sentiments_. If Jesus Christ commanded us to believe

and be immersed, I surely did not obey that command by being sprinkled.

“Pardon me, Mr. Johnson, for talking so plainly, but you have driven me

to it. You promised, this evening, to show me, out of the Scriptures,

that the baptism of the Gospel dispensation was sprinkling, and all you

have done was to show me where the Holy Ghost was, by a figure of

speech, said to be poured out on the day of Pentecost, and where Christ

had prophetically declared that they should, in some sense, that day he

_metaphorically_ immersed in the Holy Spirit—for you do not pretend that

it was more than a mystical and _figurative_ baptism which the Saviour

foretold. You did not, and you cannot prove, that this prophecy referred

to the preparatory ‘pouring out’ any more than to any of the wonderful

influences that follow the outpouring.

“Now I had learned from ministers of our own church, from Calvin and

Chalmers, and as directed by Mr. Barnes, from the word of God itself,

that the meaning of the word is a dipping or immersion. I knew that when

Jesus was baptized it was done in the river, as immersions are now

performed. And that when the Eunuch was baptized they went down into the

water, and when the solemn rite was done, they came up out of the water,

just as they do in immersions now. I knew that Paul called our baptism a

_burial_. And that our own ministers, as Chalmers and McKnight,

explained this as an allusion to the custom of the first Church, of

baptizing by immersion, and because, in the face of all this visible and

tangible evidence that the real and literal baptism submitted to, and

commanded by Christ, and practiced by the apostles in the first church,

was immersion, I could not, on the authority of a mere _figure of

speech_, and that of doubtful application, believe it to have been

pouring, you tell me I am wayward and self-willed, and intimate that I

may expect soon to be dealt with as a disturber of the peace and unity

of the church.”

“I think, Mr. Johnson,” said the mother, “that you were a little too

hard on Theodosia about that. I never could myself see much force in

these figures of speech or metaphors as Theodosia calls them.”

“Why, mother,” resumed the young lady, “if Mr. Johnson will let me

reason in the same way that he does, I will prove to him that the poor

little boy of whom we were reading this morning, that was drowned in the

river, was actually drowned on dry land by a few drops of water

sprinkled on his face.”

“I don’t see how, my daughter; but here is the paper containing the

account of the accident. I would like to hear you try.”

“‘MELANCHOLY ACCIDENT.

“‘It is our painful duty to announce that little Charlie Freeman, a

sprightly lad about nine years old, of a most lovely disposition and

extraordinary promise, the only son of his mother, and she a widow, was

accidentally _drowned_ this morning in the Cumberland river. We were one

of those who recovered the body and bore it to the dwelling of the now

doubly-bereaved mother. We cannot describe the sorrow with which this

sad event has filled our hearts. We have just left the melancholy scene,

where the heart-broken mother is sitting in the midst of a large circle

of friends who are all _drowned in tears_.’

“Now, Mr. Johnson tells me that the disciples, on the day of Pentecost,

were figuratively or metaphorically baptized _by pouring_, and if so,

then he asks me to believe that Jesus Christ must have been literally

and actually baptized in the same way, that is, by pouring, in the river

Jordan. This is the whole argument. Now I say here was a large circle of

this poor lady’s friends who were metaphorically said to be drowned in a

little water running down their faces out of their own eyes; and if so,

then the dear little boy must have been actually and literally drowned

by a few drops of water running down his face.”

“But you forget,” said the pastor, “that the lad was said to be drowned

_in the river_.”

“Not at all,” she replied, “for so also Jesus Christ is said to have

been _baptized in the river_; but you try to persuade me that he only

stood upon the bank, and John took up some of the water of the river,

and sprinkled it on his face. And some of our writers tell me that he

might have gone a few steps into the water, and there, standing in the

river, John took up a little water and poured it on his head out of a

muscle shell, or a cup. So I will grant that this poor little lad may

have gone to the bank of the river, and that some of the water of the

river was thus splashed up into his face; or that he waded in a little

way, and some other boy did the same, took up some water with his hand,

and threw it in his face—but that _he must have been drowned by a little

water running over his face_, is perfectly self-evident, for this is the

only way in which the large circle of his mother’s friends _could_ have

been drowned.”

“I see,” rejoined the pastor, “that your mind is already made up, and it

is scarcely worth while to argue the subject with you any further. You

have determined that you will not be convinced. But before I leave you

to-day, I will suggest one more point for your consideration, which, if

you are not already hardened in unbelief, can hardly fail to satisfy

you.”

“Oh no, Mr. Johnson, I am ready and anxious to be convinced. What have I

to gain by believing that immersion is the only baptism? You have

already intimated what I may expect from you and from the church which I

have loved so dearly. I fear I have already lost in part the affection

of my precious mother”—and her eyes filled with tears.

“No, my daughter,” said Mrs. Ernest, “you have not lost my love, and I

will love you still, do what you may. I know you are a dear, good,

conscientious child, and would not for the world do what you did not

believe to be right. If you leave us, my child, I can’t help mourning

over you, but I will love you still. But do listen to Mr. Johnson, my

darling, and see if he can’t convince you.”

“Certainly, mother if Mr. Johnson will show me _one single place_ in the

Word of God where baptism is called sprinkling or pouring (not in the

way of a metaphor or a figure, but literally and plainly), I will be

content. If he will show one single instance in which baptism is plainly

said to have been _done by sprinkling_ or _pouring_—not dimly and

metaphorically, as those good ladies were drowned in tears, but actually

and really, as the dear child was drowned in the river—I will ask for

nothing more. But till he can _show it show me in the Bible_, I can’t

believe that it is there.”

“As to that,” said the pastor, “I can show you sprinkling and pouring

oftener than I can immersion, for there is no such word as immersion

used in the whole book.”

“I know,” said she, “that sprinkling and pouring are mentioned often

enough, but not as baptism; what I want is the place where they are

literally said _to be actual baptism_. I know that _immerse_ does not

occur in our version, because _dip_ is generally used where the word

baptize occurs; but if _baptism_ means immersion, as Calvin, McKnight,

Chalmers, and others of our ministers say it does, and as the lexicons

of the Greek language say it does, then immerse occurs, in fact, _every

time baptize occurs_.”

“Well, well, I see you are not to be easily satisfied on this point; and

I have no more time to spare to-day. I was about to direct your

attention to another argument in this same chapter, which will, I trust,

set your mind at rest forever.

“You see here that there were no less than three thousand souls

converted by Peter’s sermon; and all this vast multitude were added to

the church that very day. Now _it is clearly impossible_ that they could

have been baptized by immersion, and, therefore, it must have been done

by sprinkling or pouring; and if so, then sprinkling and pouring must be

the Gospel baptism. I consider this argument entirely conclusive. I want

you to examine the record of the transaction carefully and candidly, and

if you can believe that these three thousand people were all immersed,

you can believe almost any thing. I will call again next week, and you

can tell me what you think of it.”

The Rev. Mr. Johnson, as he was saying this, arose and took up his hat

to depart.

“Please tell me one thing before you go,” said Theodosia. “You said _it

was impossible_ that these three thousand persons could have been

immersed. Please tell me why.”

“For two good and sufficient reasons,” he replied. “In the first place,

there was not _water_ enough; and, in the second place, there was not

_time_ enough. And either one of these circumstances was clearly

sufficient to render immersion impossible. We will not discuss the

subject any farther at present. Examine it at your leisure, and I trust,

when I see you again, I will find your mind entirely satisfied. For the

present, I must bid you good evening.”

Mr. Johnson walked home, thinking what strange perversity it was in a

young girl to venture to form an independent opinion on a theological

subject, and to question the infallibility of _his reiterated

assertions_, and even to undertake to argue the matter with her pastor.

The young lady took her Bible, and began to examine again the passages

to which the pastor had referred in their conversation; but before she

had made much progress, her mother required her assistance in some

household duties, which occupied her attention till after supper.

Scarcely was supper over, and the table cleared away, when who should

come in but her UNCLE JONES.

“Well, Theo.,” said he, in his unceremonious way, “I am told that I am

about to lose my niece, and that you are on the point of turning

Baptist.”

“Oh, uncle, don’t say that! I shall not be lost to you or any of those I

love, even though I should feel it my duty to be baptized. I will still

be your own niece, and love you as well as ever.”

“You will! Then your mind is about made up on the subject, I suppose?”

“Very nearly, uncle. I have some other points yet to examine, which were

suggested by pastor Johnson this afternoon, and unless I find them

more—”

“Some other points to examine! Suggested by the pastor! Do you, then,

undertake to differ with your pastor; and talk about deciding for

yourself in regard to one of the most difficult and complicated

questions in theology?”

“Oh, please, uncle, don’t be angry; and don’t laugh at me. I know I am

only a poor simple girl, but I am accountable only to God, and must be

decided by my own understanding of his Word. What I can’t find in the

Scripture for myself, I can’t be sure is there. If I don’t examine for

myself, how can I know any thing about it?”

“Can’t you take your pastor’s word for it?”

“Yes, if he will show me a ‘thus saith the Lord,’ as his authority.”

“But can’t you take it for granted that he has such authority, without

his pointing to the chapter and the verse?”

“It is God’s Word, uncle, that I must obey, not man’s. If it is in the

Book, he can’t object to _showing me where it is_. I want to see it for

myself. The Apostle praised the Bereans, not because they took Paul’s

word for all he said, but because ‘they searched the Scriptures’ for

themselves ‘to see whether these things were so.’”

“But what if you come to a different conclusion from the pastor? Do you

think it will be wise to trust your own judgment, rather than that of

the many great, and good, and learned men of our church, who have

examined this subject more thoroughly, and under much more favorable

circumstances, than you can hope to do? Do you think it will be

indicative of the humility required by the Gospel of Jesus Christ, for a

simple girl not yet out of her teens, and without any theological

education, to set up her _own opinions_ against those of the wisest and

best men of the age?”

“No, uncle, I don’t intend to set up my opinions against those of the

great and good men you speak of. But I find that others, equally great

and good men, after a careful examination of the subject, have come to a

different conclusion; and that some of these same Doctors of Divinity in

our church, while they practice one thing, and instruct us to do it, yet

expressly declare that it was another and a very different thing which

Christ commanded and the first Christians practiced. Now ‘when the

doctors disagree,’ not only with each other, but with themselves, what

is a poor, simple girl like me to do? I can’t study theology, _but I can

study the Bible_. If sprinkling, as baptism, is there, I can see it.

Pastor Johnson says it is there; other learned theologians say it is

not. What can I do? I say to each of them, if sprinkling is commanded,

show me where; if pouring is commanded, point out the place; if dipping

is commanded, let me see it for myself. If I can’t find it, and you

can’t show it to me, I won’t believe it’s in the book at all. I hope,

uncle, you don’t really think that I am proud or egotistical; I only

want to know just what my Saviour requires. I will believe any thing,

and do any thing, if you will only show me that he has said it or

commanded it.”

“No, my dear child, I don’t think you are egotistical or proud. I admire

your independence, and I wish every person, in every place, would in the

same way search the Scriptures, and understand perfectly the grounds on

which their faith and practice rests. It is not only the privilege, but

the _duty_ of every person, to examine and decide for themselves

personally, what the Word of God requires. Religion is a _personal

thing_. It requires _personal_ obedience—and that, too, of the heart,

which cannot be rendered without some degree of _personal understanding_

of the Word. If you trust your conscience in any man’s keeping, you

place yourself in a dangerous condition. I am rejoiced to see you

studying this subject for yourself. And indeed I was only trying your

courage a little, when I affected to be surprised at your doing so. But

seriously, my dear Theo., why did you not come to your uncle with your

difficulties?”

“I did intend to consult you, uncle, before my final decision, but the

question came up so unexpectedly, and our investigation has gone on so

rapidly, that I have not yet had any very convenient opportunity; and

besides, uncle, to tell the truth, I was afraid you would either be

angry, or laugh at me.”

“You were! Well, then, I will disappoint you, for so far from laughing

at you, I consider it a very serious and most important question; and

instead of being angry with you, it will give me great pleasure to

assist you in the investigation; and if I can’t show you the sprinkling

baptism in the Bible, I will be immersed myself. I will not be like

those Doctors of Divinity you spoke of, who say one thing and practice

another. If Jesus Christ did not command sprinkling, I for one will

neither teach nor practice it. I have felt for some time that it was my

own duty to investigate this subject, and I will do it now—and with your

assistance.”

“Oh, uncle, don’t talk of my assistance. I am but an ignorant, though

anxious inquirer after the truth, and am obliged to call for help on

others at every step. If I should speak of rendering assistance to you,

I should indeed deserve to be called proud and egotistical.”

“Well, well; any way, my child. If you won’t help me, I will help you.

Tell me just how far you have got along, what discoveries you have made,

and where you are standing now—and then we will consider of the rest.”

“It will be too long a story, uncle, to go over all the road that I have

traveled. But I have learned that there is ‘_one Lord, one faith, and

ONE BAPTISM_.’ I have been inquiring whether that baptism is sprinkling,

or pouring, or dipping. I have discovered that baptize, as it is used in

the New Testament, is a Greek word, and must be understood as those who

read and spoke the Greek language in our Saviour’s time would understand

it. Dr. Albert Barnes told me I could learn this by examining the

fifteen places where, he says, the word occurs in the Old Testament. I

hunted out each place, and found it meant ‘to dip.’ I looked in

Webster’s dictionary, and found that to dip in water, was to plunge an

object into the fluid and instantly take it out again—the very act which

the Baptists perform when they baptize. I got Edwin to look in his Greek

Lexicon, and he found that the word had the same meaning there—that

baptism was immersion. I read McKnight and Chalmers on the 6th of

Romans, and found that these great Doctors of Divinity in the

Presbyterian church agreed in declaring the same thing; and further,

that it was immersion that was practiced by the first church. I am told

that Luther, and Calvin, and Doddridge, and a great many others of the

most eminent of our theologians, teach the same things. And I have not

yet found in the Word of God a single passage which leads me to any

different conclusion. Unless, therefore, I should find, as pastor

Johnson assures me I shall, that it was clearly impossible to immerse

the three thousand that were added to the church on the day of

Pentecost, I must be convinced.”

“On what ground does your pastor think it impossible?”

“He says there was neither water enough, nor time enough.”

“Well, how can you prove that there was?”

“It don’t seem to me, uncle, that it is necessary that I should be able

to prove it in any other way than by the mere statement of the Scripture

that they were baptized; for if the word baptize means to immerse, then

the book _says they were immersed_; and if they were immersed, there

_must_ have been time enough, and water enough, whether I can prove it

or not. If I do not believe this, I make God a liar.”

“But what if it can be clearly shown that there _was not_ water enough,

or time enough; then would it not be more reasonable to suppose the word

has some _other meaning_, than to believe the record to be false?”

“Perhaps it would, but the pastor only _said_ it. He did not _try_ to

_prove_ it. Nor do I see how it would be possible _now_ to determine how

much water there was in Jerusalem eighteen hundred years ago, even if we

knew the exact number of gallons it would require to immerse three

thousand people. I remember that we read in 2 Kings xviii. 17, about the

‘upper pool,’ and in 2 Kings xx. 20, about the _‘pool’_ that Hezekiah

made, and in Nehemiah about another ‘_fountain_’ and ‘pool,’ and in

Isaiah xxii. 9, about the ‘waters of the lower pool,’ and in John v. 2,

about the ‘pool of Bethesda’ that had five porches, and John ix. 7,

about the ‘pool of Siloam.’”

“I think the pastor will be obliged to give it up, Theo., so far as the

want of _water_ is concerned; for in addition to this testimony from the

Scripture, we have that of many distinguished travelers, who were, like

ourselves, opposed to the Baptists; and yet all agree that Jerusalem

was, and is, one of the best watered cities on the globe. Dr. Robinson,

one of these travelers, speaks of ‘immense cisterns now, and anciently,

existing within the area of the Temple, supplied partly from rain water,

and partly by the aqueduct,’ and tells us also that ‘almost every

private house had a cistern in it,’ p. 480. Speaking of the reservoirs,

he says, p. 483—‘With such reservoirs, Jerusalem was abundantly

supplied, to say nothing of the immense pools of Solomon, beyond

Bethlehem, which were no doubt constructed for the benefit of the Holy

City.’

“‘There are,’ he says, ‘on the north side of the city, outside the

walls, two very large reservoirs, one of which is over three hundred

feet long and more than two hundred feet wide, and the other nearly six

hundred feet long by over two hundred and fifty feet wide;’ and besides

these he mentions the pool of Siloam and two others as being without the

walls. Within the walls he mentions ‘the pool of Bathsheba,’ ‘the pool

of Hezekiah,’ and ‘the pool of Bethesda.’ The pool of Hezekiah he says

was about two hundred and forty feet long by about one hundred and

forty-four feet broad; the pool of Bethesda three hundred and sixty feet

long by one hundred and thirty feet wide; and besides these he mentions

an aqueduct and numerous other fountains. (Rob. Resh. in Pal. pp. 480 to

516.)

“But we might have known, without any of this testimony, that a city to

which the whole male population of a vast and fertile country were

required to resort several times a year, and whose religious ceremonial

required such frequent ablutions as did that of the Jews at the time of

Christ, would be abundantly furnished with the means of bathing, and

consequently present sufficient facilities for immersion. Moreover, the

water would not be destroyed by dipping in it; and therefore the same

quantity that would suffice for one would do for a hundred. And it is

evident that so far as the water is concerned, _any one_ of these

numerous pools, either in or out of the city, would have sufficed. But

was there not another and more serious difficulty? These pools and

fountains belonged to the Jews. The same men who hated and crucified

Christ now had control of the water of the city and the suburbs, and is

it probable that they would permit the disciples to use them?”

“Certainly they would,” said Theodosia, “for in consequence of the

wonderful events of this day, the Scripture says that ‘fear came upon

every soul,’ and that the disciples ‘did eat their meat with gladness

and singleness of heart, praising God and _having favor with all the

people_.’ They gave them the Temple to preach in, and it is not likely

that they would refuse the pools to baptize in.”

“Surely,” said Uncle Jones, “that must remove all conceivable difficulty

as to the water; but we may not find it so easy to arrange matters in

regard to time. Time has always been a very unaccommodating old fellow;

and a day among the Jews was only twelve hours, from six in the morning

till six at night, and if we can’t get the three thousand into the water

within that period, we shall be obliged to leave some or all of them

out, and dispose of them in some other way.”

“Well, uncle, I don’t see why we can’t dispose of some of them in some

other way, for the Scripture does not say they were all _baptized_ that

day, but only all _added_ to the company of the disciples; and _some_ of

them may have been baptized by John or by the disciples of Jesus Christ

before his death, and now only come out publicly and consorted with the

Apostles; and some might have gone up to them and joined their ranks

that day and have been baptized afterward. As a person is now said to

have joined the Baptists when he makes a profession of religion among

them, and is _received by them for baptism_.

“But is it by any means certain that three thousand could not all have

been immersed that day? It would not be hard to tell if we knew how much

time there was; how many administrators there were; and just how many

each one of them could immerse.”

“Well, stop a little, Theo.; let us take up one point at a time. How

many hours had they to go upon? though as to that, I don’t see why it

would not take about as long to _sprinkle_ or _pour_ upon them, one at a

time, and reverently repeat the formula, ‘I baptize thee in the name of

the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost,’ as it would to

immerse them; _but we will examine_. What says the record? It seems that

when Peter commenced his speech, it was not yet nine o’clock in the

morning, which, as the Jews counted from six, would be the ‘third hour

in the day.’ How long before nine it was we cannot tell. We will suppose

it was just nine, and there were, consequently, only nine hours

remaining, before six in the evening, which closed the day. Peter’s

speech, as it is recorded, would not have occupied a quarter of an hour

in its delivery; but it is said that he exhorted them with many other

words; so we will suppose he spoke an hour, or we will say _two_ hours.

It would then be eleven o’clock. Now we will give them another hour to

go to the water, so that it is twelve o’clock when the baptism begins.

Now they must finish, you see, in six hours; so that is our limit as to

time.”

“Very well, uncle, we will consider it so, though really I can’t see

that Peter spoke even _one_ hour, much less two. But now how many

administrators were there?”

“This is a question,” said Uncle Jones, “about which there is some

difference of opinion. There were certainly the twelve Apostles, and

many think also the seventy others whom Jesus sent out two by two—who

must have been present, as Luke says ‘they were all with one accord in

one place.’ If so, then there were eighty-two authorized administrators.

But let us, first, to obviate all difficulties, suppose there were only

the twelve, who would each have just two hundred and fifty persons to

immerse. So on this supposition, the question is narrowed down to

this—can one man immerse two hundred and fifty persons in six hours? I

have felt some little curiosity on this subject, and when I have

witnessed immersions, have taken out my watch, and observed the time. It

has usually required about fifteen minutes to immerse twenty persons;

provided the candidates march in two by two, to the place where the

administrator is standing. This allowance of time permits the work to be

done without any appearance of haste, and with the coolest deliberation.

“I have been told by several Baptist ministers, whose veracity I have no

reason to doubt, that they have immersed large numbers at the rate of

two in every minute, or sixty in half an hour. At this rate the twelve

would have finished the work of this occasion in a little over two

hours—two hours and ten minutes. If they only worked half so fast, and

baptized but one a minute, they had time to get through, and more than

an hour and a half to spare. They could each have stopped every half

hour, and rested ten minutes, and then have gotten through in time.”

“So, uncle, it is as I suspected, there is no difficulty as to time,

even though only the twelve were engaged in the work; but if the seventy

assisted, then how long would it take?”

“In that case, there would have been less than forty persons for each

administrator, and of course it could have been done in less than half

an hour.”

“But, uncle, is it certain that any one besides the twelve were

authorized to baptize?”

“Surely, Theo., others must have been, for it is evident that Aquila,

Acts xviii. 2, and Apollos, Acts xviii. 24, and Paul himself, Acts ix.

18, were baptized by _others than the twelve_. And Peter, when he had

preached the Word to the household of Cornelius, did not baptize them

himself, but directed it to be done by some one else—Acts x. 14. But

whether this baptism was performed by the twelve, or by the twelve

assisted by the seventy, does not now concern us, as we find there was

no want of time in either case. And so you have found nothing in this

case to change your opinion concerning the meaning of the word baptize.

Now have you any other difficulties in, your way?”

“Not that I know of now, uncle. The case seems to me to be perfectly

plain. But perhaps you can suggest some other source of information

which I have not yet explored.”

“Indeed, my dear niece, I am myself in great perplexity upon this very

question. I have been some time engaged in its investigation; much

longer than you have, and have been compelled to come to about the same

conclusions with yourself—though this is the first time I have ever

mentioned it.”

“Oh, uncle, is it possible? Oh, if I had only known this four days ago.”

“Oh, yes. If you had known it, I suppose you would have been quoting

Uncle Jones as high authority for your heretical opinions. But I beg you

will not mention this, even to your mother, until I shall have finally

decided the case. But tell me now, Theo., what do you intend to do?”

“There is only one thing, uncle, that I _can_ do. I must obey my

Saviour—I must be baptized. There is only one reflection that still

casts a shade of doubt across my mind, and that is this: if it was

immersion that Christ commanded, and the Apostles and first Christians

practiced, how has it so universally been set aside, and sprinkling

substituted in its place?”

“A very important point is that, my dear niece, and I hope you will come

to no final conclusion till you have investigated thoroughly the whole

subject in all its bearings. And be assured, if I can in any way assist

you, I will be most happy to do so. But your friend, Mr. Courtney, is

much more familiar with these subjects than I am. Suppose I mention your

difficulty to him, and request him to call to-morrow evening. Perhaps I

may come with him.”

THE FIFTH NIGHT’S STUDY.

Which contains a very important discussion on a very important question.

New characters and curious arguments.

The sacred or appropriate use of the word baptize, as distinguished from

the common.

Fifth Night’s Study.

Uncle Jones was Professor of Languages in the College to which we have

once or twice before referred. A frank, free-spoken man, with a clear

head and warm heart, in which affection for his amiable, talented, and

beautiful niece held no small space. Like most of the members of his

denomination, having received his so-called baptism without his own

knowledge or consent, he had never, until very recently, felt that he

had any personal interest whatever in this subject.

He had been informed that he was baptized while yet an infant in his

mother’s arms, and whether it was properly or improperly done had been

no concern of his. It had been the duty of his parents and their pastor

to attend to that, and he had never inquired whether they did it illy or

well.

A few days since, however, his attention had been directed to the

subject by a somewhat singular occurrence. Mr. Courtney, the teacher,

was spending a leisure hour at Prof. Jones’s room, at a time when no

recitation claimed the attention of either, and they were earnestly

discussing some item of the morning’s news, when two of the college

students looked in, and seeing a visitor, were about to withdraw, but

the Professor, with his characteristic kindness, called them back, and

inquired in what way he could serve them.

After a moment’s hesitation the younger, (whose name was Pearson)

replied: “Oh, it is of no consequence, Professor Jones. Chum and I had a

little dispute which we agreed to refer to you for decision, but as you

are engaged we will call some other time.”

“No, no,” said the Professor, “come in and tell me now. I am quite at

liberty. Perhaps Mr. Courtney will assist us, if there is any thing

important to determine upon.”

“Oh, no,” said Smith (the other student), “it is of no great importance.

We only wish to ask you what is the Greek word for _to dip_.”

“It is _embapto_, _bapto_, or _baptizo_, young gentlemen. Why did you

not refer to your English and Greek Lexicon? That would have enabled you

to answer the question for yourselves.”

“We did refer to that,” said Pearson; “but Smith was not satisfied with

the Lexicon. He thought there must be some mistake. Now,” he continued,

“will you be kind enough to tell us what was the word which, among the

Greeks, commonly signified _to pour_?”

“Certainly. _Cheo_ signifies _to pour_.”

“Had the Greeks any words which commonly meant to sprinkle?”

“Yes, _raino_ meant to sprinkle.”

“Had they any word which meant to wet?”

“Certainly, _brecho_ signified to wet. But tell me, young gentlemen,

what is the object of these questions? You know the meaning of these

Greek words as well as I do.”

“Pardon me, Professor, but let me ask one question more. Did not the

Greeks have a word which signified to wash?”

“Yes, they had several. _Louo_ was used to signify a general washing, as

by bathing, and _nipto_ a partial one, as of the hands alone. The Greek

language was perhaps even more copious in words of this sort than the

English. It had a word to express almost every manner of using water.”

“Excuse me, Professor Jones, but I want to ask one question more. Will

you please to tell us whether bapto and _baptizo_ are not as properly,

and as commonly rendered by _dip_ as _cheo_ is by _pour_, or _raino_ by

_sprinkle_, or _louo_ by _wash_.

“Certainly they are, except when _bapto_ has its secondary meaning, to

dye, to color, to stain. But now, young gentlemen, you must permit me to

turn questioner. I desire to know for what purpose you come with such a

string of questions to _me_?”

“We hope you will not be offended, sir; but Smith and I,” said Pearson,

“went last Sabbath afternoon to witness the immersion; and have since

had a little discussion on the meaning of the word baptize and its

cognates, as used in the Scriptures in reference to the ordinance.

“We found the words in the Lexicon just as we would any other words, and

by this means, were, as I thought, obliged to translate them by dipping

or immersion.

“But Smith contended that there must be some error in this, and that

_baptismos_ must signify a sprinkling or a pouring, as well as a

dipping; and since we could find no authority for this in the Grammars

or Lexicons of the language, he insisted on coming to you about it.”

“Certainly, sir, there must be some mistake about these words in the

Lexicons, for my father was a Presbyterian minister, and I know he was a

good Greek scholar, and yet he not only baptized by sprinkling, but

insisted that there was no such thing as immersion ever spoken of for

baptism. The president of this college and all the faculty are

Presbyterians, and they all approve of sprinkling as baptism—which they

certainly _could not_ do if the very word baptism in the Greek signifies

immersion. I cannot understand it, sir, if Jesus Christ meant to say

sprinkle, why did he not use the word _raino_? If he meant to say pour,

why did he not use the word _cheo_ or _eccheo_? If he meant to say wet

(that is, to apply water in any form), why did he not use the word

_brecho_? As it seems to be certain, from the practice of the best and

most learned clergymen of the world, that he did not and could not have

meant dip or immerse, why did he use a word which commonly, if not

always, meant to immerse? And which, as a matter of course, every one

who read or spoke the Greek would understand to mean immerse? I wish,

Professor Jones, you would be kind enough to explain this to us, sir,

for Pearson has annoyed me about it till I have almost lost my

patience.”

The professor himself was somewhat annoyed by these questions, and the

more so because they had been asked in the presence of Mr. Courtney,

whom he knew to be a Baptist, and a thorough classical scholar. He was,

however, too prudent to permit the students to discover his

embarrassment, and only replied, “We often find it much easier to ask

questions, young gentlemen, than it is to answer them—but in the present

case, you have only to recollect that words often undergo a change of

meaning in the lapse of time, or by transfer to other places, and your

difficulties with all vanish. We may grant that dipping or immersion is

the idea which was originally connected with these words—and so it is

still in the classic Greek; hence this is what you find in the Lexicons

of the language; but the Greek of the New Testament was not the pure

classic Greek, but a sort of Jew Greek, if I may so speak, which had

come into use in Palestine, and may have been different from the

language as originally spoken and written; and as the writers of the New

Testament were treating of a new system of religion, they would be very

likely to use words in a new sense. And though it cannot be denied that

the idea of submersion is almost always in these words as they occur in

the classical writers, yet it does not of necessity follow that it must

be in them as constantly when they are used by the evangelists.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Smith. “That is very satisfactory.” And the young

men took their leave.

When they were gone, Professor Jones, observing the peculiar expression

of Mr. Courtney’s countenance, was led to continue the subject. “You did

not seem,” said he, “to be as well satisfied as the boys were with my

explanation.”

“If you will pardon me for saying so, Professor, I do not see how you

could be satisfied with it yourself.”

“And why not, pray?”

“Because you have too much good sense to take it for granted that a

thing is true only because it possibly may be true. You intimated, if

you did not plainly assert to the young men, that these words, _bapto_,

_baptizo_, and their co-relatives, signify to sprinkle, and pour, in the

Greek New Testament, though you will admit that they never have those

meanings in any other Greek book; and your sole and entire authority for

this assertion, is the fact that some other words have changed their

meaning, and therefore it was possible that these might have done so

also. I grant that they might have changed, but there is not even the

shadow of any evidence to show that they have really done so. Some men

have applied to the Legislature and had their names changed; and so you

and I might have done, but this is certainly no proof that our names

have been changed. If you build an argument, or base an explanation on

this change, it is not enough to suppose it to be possible that such a

change _might_ occur; you must prove it to be certain that such a change

_did_ occur.”

“But you will grant,” replied Professor Jones, “that it was at least

probable, that as Christ was introducing a new order of things in

religion, new words, or rather old words with new meanings, should be

employed in describing this new ordinance.”

“So far from granting that it was probable, I will prove that it was

morally impossible; though, if it had been even probable, it would not

justify your conclusions.

“What would you think of the common sense of that member of Congress who

should treat the Constitution of the United States in the same way that

you treat the Constitution of the Christian church, and earnestly and

soberly declare that such words as war and peace, taxes and treaties,

are not to be understood among us in their common and ordinary

acceptation, as they are used by other writers, and as we find them

defined in the dictionaries—but that war means want, peace means plenty,

taxes mean tables, and treaties mean troubles? You would expect his

colleagues to call him a fool. Nor would you think more highly of his

wisdom, if he should reply, and defend himself by saying—that it is true

these were common English words, the meaning of which had been fixed and

known for many ages, yet America was a new country, and the Constitution

was designed to usher in a new order of things, and nothing was more

natural than that its framers should use words in some new and unnatural

sense! And yet, this is precisely the manner of reasoning adopted by

grave and reverend =Doctors of Divinity=, when they attempt to expound

the constitution which Christ gave his church. There is not a single

word in the whole Greek language the meaning of which is more definitely

fixed and more perfectly known than that of _baptizo_, and those derived

from it. In any other book but the New Testament, no scholar ever

hesitates about its signification. When Homer speaks of a smith

baptizing a hatchet or huge pole-axe in cold water, to harden it, we

have no difficulty in knowing what he means. We see the smith harden

steel in the same manner now, by plunging it in the water.

“When Herodotus says of the Egyptians, that if they touched a swine,

they went into the river, and baptized themselves with their clothes on,

no scholar doubts they plunged into the water.

“When Diodorus Siculus says of a ship that it was baptized in the sea,

no scholar doubts that he means to say the ship was sunk—merged in the

sea.

“When Plutarch says of the Roman general that he baptized his hand in

blood, no one doubts that he dipped his hand in the blood. And yet you

know that in these, and many similar places, the very same word is used

which is employed in the New Testament to denote the ordinance. You may

take the whole range of Greek literature, up to the very time when the

Gospels were written, and you cannot find one solitary instance in which

these words are used to signify either sprinkling or pouring, nor any

one in which they have not in them the idea of an immersion—literal or

figurative.”

“Yes, Mr. Courtney, but that was classic Greek. The Hebraistic Greek,

spoken and written among the Jews, might have been different.”

“So it might, Professor Jones, but as regards this word, it was not

different, nevertheless. If there was any such thing as Jew Greek, you

would find it in the translation of their own Scripture, made by seventy

learned men of their own nation, and hence called by them the

Septuagint. With this translation the Jews, in our Saviour’s time, were

more familiar than with the original Hebrew. It was this that Jesus

quoted in his discourses. It was this that Matthew, and the other

writers of the New Testament, refer to, and quote as the Law and the

Prophets. This was the Greek which the Jews understood better than any

other. If there was, therefore, any such thing as Hebraistic or Jew

Greek it was in this book. Now, sir, you know very well that the idea of

dipping, expressed by the Hebrew word ‘_tabal_’ is in this Jew Greek

uniformly rendered by ‘_bapto_’ or ‘_baptizo_’—and these words are never

used in any other than their common classical signification.

“And further still, Josephus, who was a Jew, lived among the Jews, and

wrote the history of the Jews, lived and wrote just about the same time

that the authors of the New Testament did, and if they wrote in the ‘Jew

Greek,’ he did so also. He wrote for the same people, at the same time,

and in the same language, and uses the same word again and again, but no

one ever suspected that _he_ meant sprinkling or pouring, or that he

used it in any other than its common, classical sense. He invariably

uses the word to signify sinking, submerging, or dipping. And besides

all this, you will please to remember that the greater part of the New

Testament was written, not for the Jews, but for the _Greeks_, to read,

and, consequently, if the writers did not use Greek words, in their

ordinary Greek sense, they would not be understood—but would, in fact,

convey an absolute falsehood. Mark was written at Rome, for the Italians

and strangers who read the Greek language there. Luke addressed his

Gospel and the Acts to an individual in the Greek nation, for Theophilus

is a Greek name. John was written in the very territory of Greece

itself. It is evident, therefore, that even if there had been a peculiar

_Jewish_ use of the word, the writers of the Gospels could not have

employed it unless they had explained, at the same time, that they did

not use it in its common signification. If I say that I was immersed in

the Cumberland river people who understand English will think I was

plunged beneath the surface of the water—or else that I state what was

not true; because this is the common every-day meaning of the word

immerse in the language to which it belongs. So when these writers say

Christ was baptized in the river Jordan, everybody that read Greek would

understand that he was submerged in the river, for this was the common

every-day meaning of the word baptize in the language to which it

belonged.”

“I must acknowledge, Mr. Courtney,” said the Professor, “there is a

great deal of force in what you say; and I really do not, at this

moment, see how I can set aside your reasoning. I had no idea that so

strong an argument could possibly be made in behalf of immersion. But is

it not true, sir, that there are many places in the New Testament where

the word _cannot possibly_ mean immersion—or where it is at least much

more _probable_ that it means something else?”

“I have no doubt, Professor, that there are a number of places where it

would seem much more _probable_ to you that it has some other meaning,

if it were not that the usage of the language has fixed its meaning to

be immersion. It might seem probable to us that Jesus rode into

Jerusalem on a war-horse, but the meaning of the words employed in

describing his entry compels us to believe that he rode on an ass’s

colt. So, also, it might seem probable that the Pharisees only

_sprinkled_ the couches on which they reclined at their meals, but the

_word_ employed shows that they really immersed them, however improbable

it might seem to one who was not aware of the extreme care which the

superstitious Pharisees employed, lest some part of their furniture

should escape the contact of the water, and so remain in its impurity.

“So, also, when he says that ‘The Pharisees and all the Jews eat not

when they come from market, except they first wash (_immerse_)

themselves.’ It might seem more probable that they only _sprinkled_

themselves, or crossed their foreheads with holy water, or poured some

drops upon the top of their heads: but the words employed declare

expressly that they ‘_immersed_.’ I will not refuse to believe God’s

Word, because he tells me of a circumstance that seems to me

_improbable_. The Scriptures are full of improbable things, but I surely

will not dare to change the meaning of the words used to relate them, in

order to get rid of the improbability.

“This would be worse than infidelity itself. I believe just what God

says, whether it were probable or improbable.

“But now if you tell me that _these things were impossible_, that is

quite a different matter. If any persons or things are said to be

baptized, that _could not possibly have been immersed_, then I must

grant that the Scripture either asserts what is not true, or that it

uses words in a new and unusual sense. Permit me to suggest to you,

Professor, that it would not be an unprofitable study to investigate

this point. Take a Greek Concordance, and turn to every passage where

the word occurs; and if you find any impossibility in admitting the

classical and common meaning, I will be prepared to concede something

when we meet again.”

“I thank you for the suggestion, Mr. Courtney. You have indeed thrown

new light upon this subject. I am just now somewhat bewildered by it. I

will examine more carefully, and tell you my conclusions.”

It was on Monday that this conversation occurred, and Mr. Courtney was

returning home, when he was called by Edwin into Mrs. Ernest’s, to

assist the investigations of Theodosia and Mr. Percy. It was now near

night on Thursday, and he had yet heard nothing further from the

Professor on the subject; but just as he was leaving his school room, a

lad handed him the following note:

“DEAR COURTNEY:—I have been examining, as you suggested, into

the Scripture usage of the word ‘_Baptizo_’ and its cognates. I

am surprised and embarrassed by the results. Difficulties in the

way of sprinkling increase at every step; yet there are also

some difficulties in the way of immersion. Perhaps you can

easily obviate them. I had last evening a very interesting

conversation with my niece on this subject. She feels that she

has been greatly assisted by your advice and suggestions. There

is still, however, one point on which her mind remains in doubt.

It is this. If Christ commanded immersion, and immersion was

practiced by the first churches, how came it to be so

universally discarded, and sprinkling substituted in its place?

This question, I confess, presents a mystery to me also. Will

you do me the kindness to meet me at Mrs. Ernest’s to-night, and

come prepared to enlighten our darkness on this point?

Yours truly,

J. M. JONES.”

This was a subject to which the teacher had recently given considerable

attention, and had collected a number of authorities among Pedobaptist

writers, showing, not only that immersion was at first the universal

practice of all the churches, but also the very time and place when and

where pouring first, and sprinkling afterward, were introduced instead

of it.

He went home, therefore, and, after supper, selected such books as he

thought would be most satisfactory to his inquirers, and took them with

him to the widow’s cottage.

He found Uncle Jones already there, who was not long in beginning the

discussion.

“I see by the pile of books you have brought,” said he, “that you

received my note, and have come prepared to remove, if possible, all our

historical difficulties. Before we enter upon the history of the

ordinance, will you permit me to mention some difficulties in the way of

understanding the word baptize to signify immersion, wherever it occurs

in the New Testament?”

“Certainly; for though I ventured to tell you (when we talked upon this

subject last Monday), that you would not find any _impossibilities_, I

did not even intimate that you would find no _difficulties_. But what

are those which have troubled you?”

“It will perhaps save time if we take up the passages in order. I knew

that _bapto_ and _baptizo_ were derived from the same root, and, in

classical usage, had precisely the same signification, except that

_bapto_, while it signifies to dip, signifies also to dye or color,

which baptizo never does.[2] And I, therefore, found all the places

where these words occur.

“I will first mention those in which there is no direct allusion to the

ordinance, but where the word occurs, as it often does in the Old

Testament, in connection with other subjects.

“Theodosia, get your Testament, child, and read them as I mention them,

according to my memorandum. The first is Luke xvi. 24.

“‘Send Lazarus that he may (baptize) _dip_ the tip of his finger in

water and cool my tongue.’ This seems plain enough; and so does the

second, John xiii. 26, ‘It is he to whom I shall give the sop when I

have (baptized) dipped it; and when he had (baptized) dipped it, he gave

it to Judas.’ Nor did I find any difficulty with the third, Revelation

xix. 13, ‘And he was clothed in a vesture (baptized) dipped in blood.’

But here in the fourth case, or Mark vii. 4, I find a difficulty. ‘The

(baptisms) washing of cups, and pots, and brazen vessels, and _tables_.’

Now, so far as the cups, and pots, and vessels are concerned, the matter

is made entirely plain by turning to Leviticus xii. 32, ‘Whether it be

any vessel of wood, or raiment, or skin, or sack, whatsoever vessel it

be wherein any work is done, it must be _put into the water_, and it

shall be unclean until evening, and so it shall be cleansed.’ From this

it is evident that the cups and other vessels were immersed, or ‘_put

into the water_:’ but the word translated table, may mean also a couch

or bed, and how the beds and tables could be immersed, I do not so

easily understand.”

“And yet, uncle,” said the young lady, “the same Scripture that speaks

of the immersion or baptism of the cups, speaks also of that of the

tables. Whatever was done to the cups, therefore, was done to the tables

too.”

“Yes, Theo., and that is what makes me doubt if there was any immersion

about it. The cups could have been dipped easily enough, but to dip beds

and tables is quite another business.”

“But, uncle, if ‘putting into the water’ was immersion, must they not

have been immersed?”

“It would seem so, Theo., but I can’t understand how it could be done.”

“The difficulty will all vanish,” said Mr. Courtney “if you will

remember that the little stool to hold his plate which stood at the head

of each guest as he reclined upon the floor, was called a table, and the

mat or cloth which he lay upon, was called a couch or bed; and either of

these could be immersed as readily as the cups. They had no massive

mahogany tables, or beds containing sixty pounds of feathers, as we

have. The poor invalid whom Jesus healed, did not probably evince any

extraordinary muscular power when he _took up his bed_ and walked away

with it.

“But we have other testimony besides that of Mark on the subject. What

if I show you from the writings of a learned Hebrew, that the beds and

tables not only could be immersed, but that their immersion was

habitually practiced by the superstitious Pharisees!”

“That will indeed remove every shadow of doubt,” said the Professor;

“but have you indeed such testimony?”

“Certainly we have. There was a very learned Jew who wrote a very

elaborate commentary on the Jewish customs and traditions. Dr. Adam

Clarke, the great commentator, recognizes his authority, and calls him

the ‘great expounder of the Jewish Law;’ and, as he comes thus ‘properly

vouched for,’ I trust his evidence will not be disputed. This learned

and eminent Rabbi, commonly called Rabbi Maimonides, says, in his

commentary: ‘Every vessel of wood, as a table or bed, receives

defilement, and these were washed _by covering in water_, and very nice

and particular they were,’ he adds, ‘that they might be _covered all

over_.’

“If the article was very large and could not be dipped all at one time,

it could still, according to the teaching of this great expounder, be

easily immersed. For, says he, ‘A bed that is wholly defiled, if he dip

it part by part, it is pure. If he dip it in the pool of water it is

clean, even though its feet are plunged in the thick clay.’

“Perhaps,” continued Mr. Courtney, addressing Theodosia, “your uncle may

find it easier to believe Maimonides than Mark, and if so, the tables

are disposed of.”

“The Rabbi’s explanation does indeed remove all difficulties,” said

Uncle Jones; “but now look at the first part of the verse. ‘The

Pharisees and all the Jews except they wash their hands, eat not; and

when they come from the market, except they (baptize) wash, they eat

not; holding the tradition of the elders.’ Now I can hardly think it

possible that the Jews, whenever they came from market, dipped

themselves all over in water, as the word (_baptisonti_) employed here,

would intimate, if immersion indeed be the meaning of the word. It seems

as though something else would be much more natural and likely to be

done.”

“Suppose it was more likely that they should do something else,” replied

Mr. Courtney, “can you not believe, on the authority of the Word of God,

that the superstitious Jews would do very unlikely, improbable, and

inconvenient things? It cannot be denied that it was just as possible

for them to immerse themselves (_baptisonti_) when they came from

market, as it was to wash their hands (_nipsonti_) on ordinary

occasions, or before meals; but it is very easy to determine what it was

which they actually did, since it was that which was required by the

‘tradition of the elders.’ What, then, was this tradition of the elders?

Maimonides shall enlighten us here again. ‘If the Pharisees,’ says he,

‘touched but the garments of the common people, they were defiled all

over as if they had touched a profluous person, and needed _immersion_,

and were obliged to do it; and hence when they walked the streets, they

walked on the side of the way, that they might not be defiled by

touching the common people. In a laver (they say) which holds forty

seahs of water, every defiled man dips himself.’

“It was, therefore, we see, a veritable immersion which was required by

the ‘tradition of the elders,’ as preserved in their nation and recorded

by one of their most learned Rabbis; and though Doctors of Divinity find

it very hard to believe the plain assertion of the Spirit of God,

speaking by Mark, and fancy there must be some mistake or

misunderstanding when he says the Pharisees immersed themselves; yet I

have never heard that any of them hesitated to receive the uninspired

testimony of the Jewish Rabbi, or proposed to give to his words new and

unheard-of meanings to obviate the necessity of admitting that immersion

was practiced by the superstitious Jews.”

“I am very much obliged to you,” said the Professor, “for laying the sin

of my unbelief at the door of the Doctors of Divinity; and, to tell the

truth, they are in some degree responsible for it, for I am doubtful if

I should have seen these difficulties so plainly had I not looked at

them through the theological microscope of Dr. Miller, of Princeton, New

Jersey. You have disposed of them so easily and so satisfactorily, that

I am almost ashamed to ask you for your opinion about the divers

washings in Hebrews ix. 10. These washings, you know, are in the

original called Baptismois or baptisms—were they not some of the many

sprinklings enjoined upon the Jews by the Levitical law?”

“Surely, my dear sir, if they had been, Paul would have called them

sprinklings. He understood the use of the proper word for sprinkle, for

he uses it in this same connection where he speaks of ‘the ashes of an

heifer sprinkling the unclean.’ The baptisms were evidently something

else, and another and altogether different word is employed to designate

them—one word refers to the _sprinklings_ required by the law, the other

to the _immersions_ which it commanded.”

“But, Mr. Courtney, I have in some way received the impression that the

law nowhere commands any _immersions_. It commands sprinklings and

ablutions, washings and purifications, but never in any case

immersions—so the allusion must be to some other cleansings than to

immersions.”

“Permit me to say, Professor, that you could not have received that

impression from a careful study of the law itself—you are probably

indebted for it to a Doctor of Divinity. Take your Bible, and turn to

the law, and you will read of immersions or _dippings_ in blood—dippings

in blood and running water—dippings in oil—dippings in the water of

purification—and in the practice of the Jews, many, if not most of the

_washings_ mentioned in the law, were performed by _immersion_, though

this was not specifically required by the command. The ten lavers that

Solomon made, were for washing the sacrifices, and these were washed by

_dipping_ them in the water. The great sea which he made, was for the

priests to _bathe_ in, 2d Chron. iv. 6. And this washing was an

immersion. On how many occasions do you read, in the 15th of Leviticus,

that one ‘must wash his clothes, and _bathe_ himself in water?’ Are

clothes washed without _immersion_? The vessels of wood, skin, etc.,

were required to ‘_to be put into the water_’—was not this an immersion?

And if you doubt that the washing or bathing of their persons was

immersion, we will learn from Maimonides what it was that they actually

did in obedience to this law:

“‘In their law,’ says this learned Rabbi, ‘whenever washing of the body

or the clothes is mentioned, it means nothing else than the washing the

_whole_ body; for if any wash himself all over except the very tip of

his little finger, he is still in his uncleanness.’

“That this was what the Jews understood by washing, is further evident

from the case of Naaman. The prophet told him to go and _wash_ seven

times in Jordan; and it was regarded as strict and literal obedience

when he went and ‘_dipped himself_ seven times.’”

“I see, Mr. Courtney, that it is just as easy to find the ‘divers

immersions’ as the ‘sprinklings,’ and I do not see why I should have

been so easily imposed upon. I find I must be careful how I receive the

assertions even of our Doctors of Divinity.”

“Yes, uncle,” said Theodosia, “I have determined that I will find every

thing in the Bible _for myself_. It is the only way in which I can be

certain it is there.”

“We have now,” said Mr. Courtney, “examined every text in the New

Testament where the word is translated, and not merely transferred in

our version. In several of these places we find it is rendered ‘dip,’ as

it is in the fourteen places mentioned by Dr. Barnes, where it occurs in

the Old Testament. In all the other places it is rendered _wash_, and we

have ascertained, in every case, that the washing was by ‘dipping.’”

“But, Mr. Courtney, did not you ascertain this from Rabbi Maimonides,

and not from the Scriptures themselves? I want my faith to stand alone

upon the Word of God.”

“No, Miss Ernest, we learned it from the word of God itself. I quoted

the Jewish Rabbi to satisfy your uncle—because (if he will pardon me for

saying so) he seemed to feel that some human testimony was needful to

sustain the (to him) strange assertion of the Word of God, that the

superstitious Pharisees immersed their tables or couches, and

themselves, but we had abundant proof without the Rabbi’s testimony.”

“What was it, Mr. Courtney?—please call it to my mind again. The Bible

argument is all that I care to remember.”

“You are right, Miss Ernest—it is all you _need_ to remember. You know

we have on former occasions determined the meaning of the word baptism,

by a variety of methods. We found it to be immersion or dipping. Now,

your uncle admitted this, so far as regards _all other books but the New

Testament_. Here he conceived it _might_ have a new signification. I

conceded that it might, but denied that it did; for the fact that a

thing _may_ possibly, or even probably, be true, _is no evidence that it

is true_. Then to show that it _must_ have a new meaning, he referred to

three places where, in our version, it is rendered ‘washing.’ In Mark

vii. 4, he said it seemed unreasonable to think that the Pharisees

immersed their tables and beds (for the word ‘_kleina_,’ rendered

_tables_, may mean couches as well); and therefore he thought he ought

to give the word some other meaning.

“To this I might have merely replied, the Word of God says the ‘kleina’

were immersed, and therefore it was done. I will not take the liberty to

_change_ God’s word because it states improbabilities. But we were very

accommodating, and reminded him that whatever was done to the tables, or

‘kleina,’ was the _same_ thing that was done to the ‘cups’ and other

vessels, and then turned to Leviticus and showed that _they_ were ‘put

into the water,’ and of course the ‘kleina’ were ‘put into the water,’

also. This, I am sure, was proof enough, without going to the Rabbi, to

see _how_ it was done, and this was all Scripture proof. We went to the

Rabbi only to ‘make assurance doubly sure.’ Then your uncle thought it

more reasonable to believe that the Pharisees did something else instead

of dipping themselves (as Mark says) when they came from the market.

“I might have answered as before—God says they _dipped_, and I will not

dare to doubt it, though it be improbable.

“But as the text says, they did it ‘holding the tradition of the

elders.’ I referred to the Jewish Rabbi merely to learn what the

‘tradition of the elders’ required on this point, and we found it was

just what the word expressed.

“In the third place, your uncle had conceived that the _baptismois_ or

washings spoken of in Hebrews ix. 10, could not be immersions, because

some Doctor of Divinity had told him there were no immersions; and we

went back to the Old Testament and found immersions in abundance—even

without those rites which are called ‘washings;’ but even these were

immersions also, as I have proved by the case of Naaman, and referred to

the Rabbi as confirmatory evidence.”

“Very satisfactory, I declare,” said the Professor, laughing. “You see,

Theo., Mr. Courtney fully appreciates the difficulties in the way of

convincing your uncle.

“But let us see what he has to say about these other places which I have

marked, and in which the word is used without translation, and refers

directly to the ordinance itself. The first is Matthew iii. 5, 6, which

reads of the baptism of the multitudes by John.”

“In regard to that,” said Mr. Courtney, “it will not be worth while to

consume our time to-night—I will refer you to Miss Theodosia, who has

examined it already. I will only say, that if you prefer ‘_washing_’ as

your translation of the word, there could be no quicker way for John to

_wash_ them than by dipping them in the water.”

“The next place I have marked,” said Uncle Jones, “is the 11th verse of

the same chapter, ‘I indeed baptize you with water, but he that cometh

after me shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost and with fire.’”

“I trust you find no difficulty there,” said Mr. Courtney.

“No,” replied the Professor, “except that it presents a strong argument

in favor of immersion. The original certainly reads (if we translate as

we would in any other book), I immerse you in water, and he shall

immerse you in the Holy Ghost and in fire.

“The next is the 16th verse of the same chapter—‘And Jesus, when he was

baptized, went up straightway out of the water.’ I find a strong

argument for immersion in this also; for if they did not immerse, I see

no reason for going into the water—or, if we read that he went up

_from_, instead of out of, the water, I still see no reason for even

going to it. We do not go to the river to sprinkle now—I can’t think

they did then.

“The next place I have marked refers to the ‘much water’ of Ænon, near

Salim; and I think no one can deny that John selected that place for the

convenience of baptizing; and so far as it has any bearing on the case

at all, it favors immersion. No other place presents any difficulty not

already obviated, till we come to the baptism of the three thousand.

Here seemed to be some doubtful circumstances, till I talked the subject

over with my niece last night, but all is now quite plain; but there are

some other instances recorded in the Acts, where immersion does not seem

to have been so probable as sprinkling or pouring.”

“Please don’t speak any more about _probabilities_, Professor Jones,”

exclaimed Mr. Courtney. “You admit that ‘_baptize_,’ the word used to

describe this ordinance, means to immerse, as its common primary

signification in every other book but this, and that the people who read

the Greek language, would understand this to be its meaning in this,

_unless some intimation was given_ that it must _not_ be so understood,

or unless this meaning was morally impossible. And now you say it seems

more probable that sprinkling sometimes occurred. Suppose it were more

probable, does not Luke, by using this word _baptize_, declare that it

was not sprinkling or pouring, but clearly and plainly a dipping? Will

you dare to give the word a meaning that it never had before, and has

not now, in any Greek book in the world, merely because you think it

more probable that something else was done, instead of what Luke says

was done? Show me a case where immersion was impossible, and it will

have some weight.”

“No, no, Mr. Courtney, the New Testament meaning of the word is the very

point in dispute. I shall not allow you to beg the question on the very

position about which we are at issue.”

“I did not intend, nor do I desire to do any such thing. It is no

begging of the question to object to your mode of settling it. This word

was used hundreds of years before Luke wrote this book. Its meaning was

as well fixed and defined as that of any word in the Greek language.

Luke was writing to those who read, and spoke, and understood this

language (and this word among the rest) in its ordinary sense, according

to the familiar every-day usage of the people who employed it.

“We agree, and no critic or scholar of any note has ever denied, that

the common, familiar meaning of this word was to immerse, submerge, to

dip. This we have proved. But now we want to know in what sense Luke

employs it. I answer, that the presumption is, that he employs it just

as every other writer does; for if he does not, nobody will understand

what he means. He must use words in the sense that other people use

them, or other people will not know what he means; but as he wishes to

be understood, and writes under the inspiration of infinite wisdom, he

will use words thus. If this word, therefore, commonly and familiarly

meant to immerse, then it was immersion that he meant when he used the

word. To this you reply, that in some cases it _seems more probable_

that something else was done, and not the act which this word describes;

and you will therefore make it mean just what you think is most likely

to have taken place. I object to this mode of deciding the meaning of a

New Testament word. If we decide according to this rule, I can show you

that Lazarus was never raised from the dead; for it is to me much more

likely that he was only _asleep_, or in a sort of _trance_—and when

Jesus called him with a loud voice, it only awakened him. You tell me,

however, that the Scripture plainly declares, again and again, that he

_was dead_, and that Christ _raised_ him from the _dead_. But I have

only to assure you that, though the word rendered dead does mean

dead—destitute of life—in every other book, and in almost every other

place in this book, yet in this particular place it is much _more

probable_ that it means asleep, or in a trance; and, therefore, dead

cannot mean destitute of life. If I am at liberty to trifle in this way

with any words of the Sacred Record, it ceases to mean any thing but

what I, or you, or any other man may fancy it ought to mean. Every man

may make it mean just what he pleases. But pardon me for talking so

long—I did not intend it when I began. Go on with your references, and I

will show you that there is not even a _probability_ that it was any

thing else but immersion that was performed in any single case.”

“I was,” said Uncle Jones, “just about to mention the case of Paul, who

was baptized ‘standing up,’ and of course, it could not be by immersion,

Acts ix.: ‘And Ananias went his way and entered into the house, and

putting his hand upon him, said, Brother Saul, the Lord, even Jesus, who

appeared unto thee in the way as thou camest, hath sent me that thou

mightest receive thy sight, and be filled with the Holy Ghost. And

immediately there fell from his eyes, as it had been scales, and he

received sight forthwith, and _arose and was baptized_.’ Now the Greek

word ‘_anastas_’ here rendered _arose_, might very properly be rendered

standing up; and if so, he must have been baptized standing.”

“That, _if so_, Professor, is a very convenient phrase. Let us see how

it will work in other places. We read in the Old Testament that ‘David

arose and fled for fear of Saul.’ The same word occurs here. It may mean

‘standing up;’ and, _if so_, then David _fled standing_. So, also, in

this passage, ‘Saul rose up out of the cave and went.’ It may mean

‘_standing_;’ and, _if so_, then Saul went _standing_ out of the cave.

And in this, ‘Saul _arose_ and got him from Gilgal.’ It may mean

‘standing;’ and, _if so_, then Saul went up from Gilgal ‘standing.’”

“Yes,” said Theodosia, “and when Ananias and Sapphira died that fearful

death, the young men were _standing still_ all the while they were

winding up the body, carrying him away, and burying him; for it reads,

‘The young men arose, wound him up, carried him out, and buried him.’

(Acts v. 6.) Is it not the same word that is used in the original?”

“The very same, Miss Ernest—and so it is where the prodigal son says I

will arise and go to my father—yet he does not mean to say that he will

go ‘standing up.’ If you will be kind enough to get Barnes’ Notes, you

will find a very true and apposite explanation of this word. ‘He _arose_

and went to his father.’ ‘The word _arose_,’ says Barnes, ‘does not

imply that he had been _sitting_. It does not refer to any change of

position, but expresses the act of _setting out_, or _beginning_ to do

any thing. It was a common expression among the Hebrews to denote

_entering upon_ a piece of business.’ Now, if Luke had said, he _sat

still_ and was baptized, it might have made some difficulty; but if he

rose up, or prepared himself, he would do this equally, whether he was

sprinkled or immersed. Immersion is quite as probable, so far as this

word is concerned, as sprinkling, or any thing else.”

“I must acknowledge that you are right,” said Uncle Jones, “and you have

convinced me so often that I am almost ashamed to mention another

difficulty which has been suggested—and that is, that there is nothing

said about a change of garment, or of their going out of the house; and

then Saul was so feeble that it would seem almost cruel to make him walk

half a mile to the river, before he even partook of any food. I judge,

therefore, that the rite must have been performed in the house, and _if

so_, it could not be immersion.”

“There is your ‘_if so_’ again. But suppose it was done in the house,

are you sure that there was not a bathing-tub, or a tank, or some other

means of immersion in the house? There is surely no evidence that there

was not. How do you know that it was half a mile to the river? How do

you know that there was not a fountain in the yard? Most rich men’s

houses in the East are provided with them. You simply read that he ‘was

baptized,’ and every Greek reader would understand this to mean that he

was immersed. If you should come down next Sunday to the Baptist church,

and apply for membership, and be received and baptized—I would, as clerk

of the church, record the facts—I would write that you came, made

credible profession of faith in Christ, gave satisfactory evidence of

genuine conversion, was received and _baptized_. I need not record that

you put on suitable clothing—that you went to the river, or to the pool,

or to the baptizing. Everybody would know that you were immersed, if I

simply said you were ‘baptized.’”

“Well, well, I see I have been making ‘mountains out of mole hills,’ but

really the Doctors of Divinity, as you so kindly suggested a while ago,

have much of the blame to bear. I am almost ashamed to go on with my

catalogue of difficulties, lest I provoke both you and Theodosia to

laugh at me for my simplicity.”

“Far from it, my dear sir. It is not long since I stood just where you

are standing now. I know from sad experience with how much difficulty

the light of truth makes its way through the mists and fogs by which

one’s early education has surrounded him; and how slowly it dispels the

clouds and darkness of long-established prejudices. It is rare indeed to

find any one educated as you were, and accustomed as you have been from

childhood, to think that whoever might be wrong, the Presbyterians

_must_ be right, yet exhibiting the candor to acknowledge error, and the

conscience to repudiate it so soon as it shall be clearly seen. I hope

you will not refrain from expressing even the shadow of a doubt, if it

keeps your mind from seeing clearly the way of Christian duty as

required in God’s Word. What was the next ease on your memorandum?”

“It was that of Cornelius and his friends. Peter says, who shall ‘forbid

water?’ And it seemed to me more natural for him to use this expression,

if the water was to be brought to sprinkle them, than if they were to be

taken to the water to be dipped in it.”

“But,” replied Mr. Courtney, “Peter does not say the water _was to be

brought_. He only says, who will forbid water (that is to be used in the

baptizing of these people)? It was simply equivalent to saying, who will

forbid their baptism? But the water might have been brought to _immerse_

them. What would hinder it? I was present once when a Baptist minister

said to the sexton of the church, ‘Let water be brought for the baptism

of six persons this evening’—would you deny that those six persons were

to be _immersed_? In recording the event, I might have said, the water

was brought, and they were baptized—for they were actually immersed in a

tank prepared for the purpose under the floor of the church. Now, if one

of the deacons had exclaimed, I forbid the water to be brought for the

baptism of these candidates, you must (had you been present and reasoned

as you do upon this passage) have concluded that it was sprinkling, and

not immersion at all, which was spoken of.”

“I am satisfied, Mr. Courtney, and do not see any thing in my next case

(which was that of Lydia and her household) that has not already been

disposed of. I was going to object that there was nothing said about

change of apparel and going to or coming from the water—but I

acknowledge that when I read in a Baptist paper that forty converts were

baptized one Sabbath morning, I do not doubt they were immersed, and yet

I never see a word said about the clothing they wore, and often nothing

about the place where the rite was performed. So I will pass to the

jailor’s baptism, Acts xvi. 33. The only difficulty here is, that as he

was baptized _in the jail_, it is very improbable that it was by

immersion, since it is not likely there was any convenience for an

immersion in an eastern prison.”

“Suppose, Professor Jones, that you should read in a newspaper that ‘The

poor wretch who was last week sentenced to death for the murder of old

Mr. Gripall, had made a profession of religion, and had been baptized by

Elder J. R. Graves, the editor of the _Tennessee Baptist_,’ would you

imagine that Mr. Graves had _sprinkled_ him? Not for one moment; you

could easily believe that the water was brought, and the immersion was

done, in the murderer’s cell, even though not a word was said about the

bringing it. As the jailor was master of the prison, could he not have

water brought, had it been needful?

“But the truth is, the baptism was not done in the jail. Read the

passage carefully He sprang into the prison, and he brought the Apostles

out of it (30th verse). Some say he only brought them _out_ of the

_inner prison_. I say he brought them out of that, and into his own

house, for (32d verse) they spoke the word of the Lord to all that were

in his house. He took them into his family apartments, and there they

preached the Word.

“And then (verse 33d) he took them somewhere else, where he washed their

stripes and was himself baptized; and then (34th verse) he brought them

back into his house, and set meat before them. You see, therefore, that

it was not done in prison, though if it had been, it would have been no

proof that it was not immersion.”

“I wonder,” said Mr. Jones, “that I had never seen the case in this

light before. Now, since I have observed it carefully, it is all very

plain; and I have found no other instance where the word occurs in its

_literal_ sense, and which presents any difficulties which have not been

already considered.

“There is, indeed, the case of the Eunuch, who was baptized by Philip,

but the narrative, in all the details of it, absolutely requires

immersion to preserve the consistency and probability of the story. They

went down into the water, and not the one, but both of them went into

the water. Then Philip immersed him, and then they came up out of the

water. I wonder that any Greek scholar should ever have doubted that

they went into and came out of the water; for, if this is not what is

said, it is because the Greek language could not express it. In any

other book, no scholar would hesitate a moment thus to translate the

passage. What is here said to be done, I must concede is precisely what

Baptists are accustomed to do. And, but for one thing, I am convinced

that _immersion is the only baptism_.”

“And what is that, pray?”

“Simply that I find baptism spoken of _figuratively_ or _metaphorically_

in such a way as to lead me to suspect it must be something else.

Indeed, in Acts ii. 17, it is almost expressly said to be a pouring.”

“No, Professor, baptism is _not_ here said to be pouring, nor is pouring

said to be baptism, though Doctors of Divinity have ventured such

assertions.

“Christ did tell the disciples that they would be immersed in the Holy

Ghost—and Peter did speak of the Holy Spirit as being poured out—but

neither of them said that this pouring was the immersion. It might as

well have been any other of the wonderful things that happened that day,

which could in any respect be compared to an immersion.

“But before we go further, let me say one word as to the value of

figurative usage in determining the meaning of this or any other word.

“Common sense teaches us that the figurative and fanciful must yield to

the real and actual. When, therefore, we have settled the meaning of a

word by its real, literal, every-day usage, we cannot unsettle it by a

figure of speech—a chance allusion or comparison. The fanciful must be

governed by the actual. This is self-evident. Now, we have seen and

settled that the literal meaning of this word is to _immerse_. And

henceforth, whenever and wherever we find it _figuratively_ employed,

the allusion must be in some way or other to immersion or some

circumstance attending immersion. On this alone will its beauty and

appropriateness as a figure depend.

“Now, remembering this, let us examine the case in hand. The allusion

cannot be to ‘the pouring,’ which itself is but a figure—for no literal

and actual pouring of the third person of the Trinity _could_ occur. The

allusion was not to the manner of the Spirit’s coming, but to the

copiousness, abundance, and overwhelming nature of his influences;

filling, overflowing, surrounding, and, as it were, swallowing up their

souls. The Greeks often used the word baptized in this way; as baptized

in debt, baptized in affliction, baptized in wine (that is, overcome of

wine), baptized in iniquity, or as we would express it, _sunk_ in

iniquity. We use the word immerse in the same way, when we say of one

that he is immersed in dissipation; immersed in business; immersed in

politics, and the like; we simply mean by such expressions that the

dissipation, business, or polities, controls and occupies all the powers

and capacities of the man. We do not mean to say that they were _poured_

on him, or _sprinkled_ on him, but only that they exert an overwhelming

influence over him. And just in this sense he told the disciples they

should be immersed in the Holy Ghost.”

“I thank you, Mr. Courtney, for that lucid exposition. I can hardly

understand how the matter came to be so mystified in my mind as it has

been till now. I will trouble you with but one other case, and that is

where the Israelites are said (1 Cor. x. 2) to have been ‘all baptized

unto Moses in the cloud and in the sea.’ If this was an immersion, you

must admit that it was a very dry one, for the Scripture says expressly

they went through on dry ground.”

“Certainly, I will admit that it was a dry immersion, for it was a

_figurative_, and not a real one. The baptism of the Holy Spirit, which

we were just speaking of, was a dry immersion. The baptism in

sufferings, which Jesus spoke of so touchingly to James and John, was a

dry immersion. The figure in either case was not in the wetting, but in

the overwhelming abundance of the Spirit in one, and of sorrow in the

other. The allusion in this case is not so much to the _act_, as to one

of the attendant circumstances. They did indeed go down into the sea, as

one goes down into the water to be baptized. The water stood on each

side of them and the cloud covered them—so that they might very

appropriately and beautifully be said, in a figure, to be _immersed_ in

the cloud and the sea. But the chief allusion is to another and

altogether different circumstance. As the Christian, by going down into

the baptismal water, professes his belief in Christ, and takes upon

himself a solemn obligation of obedience to the laws of Christ. So the

Jews, Paul says, by going down into the sea, and walking beneath the

cloud, professed their faith in Moses, and took upon them obligations of

obedience to him. They were thus ‘baptized unto Moses.’ The main

allusion is not to the act, but to the obligation of the ordinance.

Would the figure be any more beautiful, or any more appropriate, if we

should say that they were all sprinkled into Moses, or were all poured

into Moses?

“Professor Stuart, on this passage, says: ‘The suggestion has sometimes

been made that the Israelites were _sprinkled_ by the cloud and by the

sea, and that _this_ was the baptism which Paul meant; but the cloud was

not a rain cloud, nor do we find any _intimation_ that the waters of the

Red Sea sprinkled the children of Israel at that time.’”

“It seems to me,” said Theodosia, “that the idea of rain is absolutely

precluded; for if it had rained upon them to any extent, the ground

would have been _wet_, but it says expressly they went through on _dry

ground_.”

“That would seem to set the matter at rest, Theo., if it were not that

the Psalmist, evidently speaking of this very occasion (Psa. lxxvii. 17,

18), says expressly, ‘The clouds poured out water, the skies sent out a

sound, thine arrows also went abroad; the voice of thy thunder was in

the heaven, the lightnings lightened the world, the earth trembled and

shook.’”

“But the Psalmist does not say, uncle, that these terrible

manifestations of Almighty power were directed against the _Jews_—_they_

went over dry shod. To _them_ all was light and peace. But the cloud

went and stood _behind_ them, and troubled their enemies, the Egyptians.

The thunder, and the lightning, and the great storm of rain were upon

_them_, while the Israelites were passing on dry ground.”

“Well, Theodosia, I give it up. I have no longer any ground to stand

upon; and I may as well admit at once, that _immersion is the only act

which is anywhere in the Bible called a Baptism_. I have, I think, now

examined every place that could throw any light upon the subject; and

really I can’t find even a probability of any other meaning of the word

in _any_ case, while in many this meaning is established by most

overwhelming proof.”

“No, Professor, there is one place you seem to have overlooked, which is

exceedingly significant; that is Romans, 6th chapter, where we are said

to be _buried with Christ in our baptism_. Here the allusion is most

evidently not to any attending circumstance, but to the act itself. We

are buried in the water like one who is dead, and raised out of it again

like one resurrected. So, we are to consider ourselves as having died to

sin, and as having been brought to life again by Christ; but not to the

same life of sin which we led before, but to ‘_newness of life_’—or a

new life—a life of holiness and obedience. That the allusion here is to

the act of immersion is so evident that none but the most determined and

unreasonable cavilers pretend to deny it. I do not know of any single

commentator, whose opinions are entitled to any respect, who has

ventured to differ in regard to this point from Luther, and Calvin, and

Doddridge, and McKnight, and Chalmers—who all agree that the allusion is

to the ancient form of baptism by immersion, or, as McKnight expresses

it, to the ordinance in which Christ submitted to be baptized—that is,

to be buried under the water, and taken out again by John,” etc. (See

notes on this place.)

“I see,” said Uncle Jones. “The Scriptures do not even leave ‘a loop to

hang a doubt upon.’ The common and every-day use of the word requires

immersion—the scriptural, and especially the New Testament usage of the

word, requires immersion—the places where the baptisms were performed

required immersion, for why else would they go into the water?—and even

the figures and metaphors drawn from the ordinance demand immersion.

What shall we say then? Must we not be immersed?”

“I can only answer for myself, uncle. If it was immersion which Jesus

Christ, my Saviour, submitted to in Jordan, and which he commanded all

his disciples to teach and to practice, I cannot hesitate about whether

I will obey my Saviour—I shall be immersed the first convenient

opportunity.”

“I cannot yet speak so confidently,” rejoined her uncle. “It may be,

something will yet turn up to show the matter in some other light. I

must take more time to consider, and this reminds me that we have not

yet examined the history of the ordinance to see whether it is true in

fact that sprinkling has been substituted for immersion, or whether,

after all, it was not immersion that was substituted for sprinkling. I

am under the impression that these Baptists are the same sect that

sprung up about the time of Luther and the Reformation—sometimes called

Anabaptists, but more frequently the Mad Men of Munster. I grant I have

not investigated the subject very carefully, but I am certain I have

somewhere seen or heard their origin in Europe traced back to that

occasion, and in this country I have been told they owe their beginning

to Roger Williams, who was not properly baptized himself, and

consequently could not give valid baptism to any one else. Am I not

right in these conjectures, Mr. Courtney?”

Mr. Courtney did not reply until after he had taken out his watch and

observed the time of night. “It is too late,” said he, “to answer that

question and others which will be suggested by it, to-night. Suppose we

postpone the further consideration of the subject till another time.”

“Very well,” said Theodosia, who felt that she had sufficient food for

one day’s reflection in what had already passed. “Come round, both of

you, to-morrow night. Come early and take supper with us; and meantime,

Mr. Courtney, you may leave this great armful of old books. May be, I

will indulge my womanly curiosity by reading their titles. I don’t

believe I have much relish for their contents, unless they should be

vastly more attractive than their external appearance indicates. Why,

some of them look as though they might be a hundred and one years old.”

“Old documents are sometimes very valuable,” said he, “especially in

such a discussion as we are to have to-morrow night. You will be more

interested in them than you imagine.”

THE SIXTH NIGHT’S STUDY.

In which the question, how Christ’s ordinance was changed, and pouring

first, and then sprinkling, substituted in place of immersion, is fully

examined, and truthfully answered, by the sprinklers themselves.

Sixth Night’s Study.

The interest which so learned and excellent a Presbyterian as Uncle

Jones had exhibited in the study of Baptism, together with affection for

her lovely daughter, had so far removed Mrs. Ernest’s objections to this

investigation, that she had resolved herself to be present, and take

some quiet part in the conversation, upon the introduction of

sprinkling. Uncle Jones she knew was a sincere and pious man. He was

also a man of good sense, sound judgment, and of very extensive

information. And (more than all to her) he was a _Ruling Elder_ in the

Presbyterian Church. If, therefore, Uncle Jones had ventured to _doubt_

about _his_ baptism, she began to think her daughter could not have

committed any very _deadly_ sin in doubting about hers. And, as Uncle

Jones had spoken very highly of the logical acumen and historical

information of Mr. Courtney, she could not see why she should not treat

him with such courtesy as was due to an intelligent gentleman, even

though he was a poor Baptist schoolmaster. As for his prejudices, which

had led him to speak so disrespectfully of the Doctors of Divinity and

eminent ministers of “our church”—he had probably received them in his

childhood, for she had no doubt he had been reared among the ignorant

and bigoted Baptists, who never knew any better, and from whom nothing

better could be expected.

When Mr. Courtney came in, therefore, she was the first to welcome him,

and express her pleasure that he had come so early. She exerted herself

to entertain him till Theodosia came in, and then went to prepare a nice

dish which had just come into her mind for supper. It was not long till

the Professor came also; but not a word was said about the object of

their meeting till after the table was removed—when Mr. Courtney

introduced it by saying:

“If I did not misunderstand you, Professor Jones, you expressed some

doubt last evening whether immersion was not first introduced as baptism

by the Mad Men of Munster during the Reformation of Luther; and whether

the Baptists of the United States did not receive baptism from Roger

Williams, who was himself not properly baptized, and therefore could not

legally baptize others.”

“This is my impression, sir. I do not know exactly how I received

it—perhaps I got something of it from reading D’Aubigne’s History of the

Reformation—perhaps I received it by hearing something of the kind from

the pulpit. I am certain that I have seen or heard it somewhere, and

that I thought at the time I had good authority for believing

it—otherwise, I should not have given it a place in my memory.”

“I have,” replied Mr. Courtney, “seen and heard such statements many

times from various sources. They are often recorded in Presbyterian and

Methodist newspapers. They form a part of every controversy on the

subject of baptism; and you may hear them almost as often as you hear a

sermon or listen to a discussion on this subject. It was consequently

very easy for you to receive and retain such impressions.”

“And yet I suppose you will assure me that I am altogether mistaken, and

have been grossly deceived.”

“No, Professor Jones, _I will not assure you_. I do not like that mode

of discussion. I will _prove_ to you: (if you will receive the testimony

of the _most reliable historians_, or that of the most eminent of _your

own writers_ on this subject); I will prove to you beyond all

possibility of doubt that those who make such statements are either most

grossly ignorant or most perversely false.”

“I hope, Mr. Courtney, you don’t mean to say that _our ministers_ preach

falsehood, or that _our religious_ editors make statements that are not

true?” said Mrs. Ernest, who already felt her blood begin to boil.

“No, no, sister,” said Uncle Jones, who knew her mood. “Mr. Courtney

only means to say that our ministers and editors _are mistaken_, and

that he can prove that they have made statements without having first

carefully examined _all_ the evidence.”

“Pardon me, madam,” said Mr. Courtney, “I did not intend to use any

language which would give offence to any one present, and most

especially to you. I was myself for many years a Presbyterian. I know

the ministers of that order too well to doubt that, as a body, they are

in knowledge and piety equal to any in the world. There are among them

many who are now my warmest personal friends—men whom I love as

Christian brethren—men whom I admire as great and valiant soldiers of

the cross—men who love Jesus, and are devoting their lives to his work,

and are doing great good in the world. And yet there are among them men

who, upon this subject, rashly venture to make assertions which most

clearly and directly contradict all historical testimony, and which, if

there is any _truth_ in history, must be admitted to be false.”

“How can that be possible?” asked Theodosia. “How can a good man _dare_

to say what is not _strictly true_?”

“I do not doubt, Miss Ernest, that most of them really _believe_ what

they assert. They are themselves deceived. They have been trained and

educated in error. They have trusted to the assertions of others, who

had an interest in deceiving them. They get impressions, just as your

uncle did, from books, or papers, or lectures, or sermons, in which such

statements are made. They take it for granted they are true—and so

repeat them to others—and extend and perpetuate the falsehood, which

would at once be evident, if they would go behind these statements and

examine the _historical records for themselves_.

“It is, in part, for this reason, that I do not ask you to take _my

word_ for any fact to which I may request your attention. Nor will I ask

you to receive the testimony of any _Baptist_ historian; you shall have

the record to read for yourselves, and that record made _in every

instance_ by an opposer of our poor and despised denomination. I will

prove to you, first, that the Baptists in Europe did not originate at

the time of the Reformation, but had existed from the very foundation of

Christianity; and then I will show you that the Baptists in the United

States do not owe their origin to Roger Williams, any more than they do

to Lord Baltimore or Cotton Mather; and that the validity of their

ordinance stands on much safer ground, in point of regular succession

from the Apostles, than that of any of the Pedobaptist sects.”

“That is right, Mr. Courtney,” said Uncle Jones; “let us have one thing

at a time. Bring up your witnesses.”

“Well, I have them ready. But first, let us understand distinctly the

point on which we are at issue. You understand that the Baptist

denomination sprang up as a new thing about the time of the Lutheran

Reformation, and owes its origin to those who were then called

‘Anabaptists, or the Mad Men of Munster?’”

“Yes; that was my impression.”

“Very well. Now I will show you that this is so far from being true,

that there has been, from the _very earliest ages_ of Christianity up to

the present time, a body of professing Christians who have always held,

as we do now, that baptism is not valid unless it be preceded by

instruction and _faith in Christ_; and, consequently, that the _baptism

of infants is no baptism at all_.

“I grant that this _body of Christian people_ has not always been

_called_ Baptists; but as they possessed the distinguishing

characteristics of the Baptists, it cannot be denied that they _were_

Baptists.”

“No,” said Uncle Jones, “if they were professing Christians, and gave

evidence of the new birth, baptized only by immersion, and refused to

baptize infants, or recognize such baptism as valid, they were doubtless

Baptists, by whatever name they chanced to be called.”

“Then we are ready to proceed with the case. The first witness I will

call is the celebrated ecclesiastical historian, John Lawrence Mosheim,

Chancellor of the University of Gottingen. He was, of course, _no

Baptist_, or he could not have held such a position. His history was

originally written in Latin, but has been translated into English by Dr.

McLaine, of England, and Dr. Murdock, in America. This learned and

reliable historian says: ‘The sacrament of baptism was administered, in

this (the first) century, without the public assemblies, in places

appointed and prepared for that purpose, and was performed by an

_immersion of the whole body_ in the baptismal font.’

“Of the second century, he says: ‘The persons that were to be baptized,

after they had repeated the creed, confessed and renounced their sins,

and particularly the devil and his pompous allurements, were _immersed

under water_, and received into Christ’s kingdom.’ No sprinkling, and no

infants, you see, thus far. They were such as could profess their faith,

and they were ‘immersed under the water.’ _McLaine’s Mosheim_, vol. p.

46⁠–⁠69.

“As a witness of somewhat similar character, I will now introduce the

Pedobaptist Neander, whose ‘Church History’ and his ‘Planting and

Training of the Christian Church,’ have given his name a world-wide

celebrity.

“This eminent and reliable historian, in a letter to Mr. Judd, says,

expressly, ‘The practice of immersion was beyond doubt prevalent in the

_whole church_. The only exception was made with the _sick_—hence called

_baptisma clinicorum_.’

“And in ‘Planting and Training of the Christian Church,’ he says: ‘The

unusual form of submersion at baptism practiced by the Jews, was

transferred to the Gentile Christians. Indeed, this form was most

suitable to signify that which Christ intended to render an object of

contemplation by such a symbol, viz.: the immersion of the whole man in

the spirit of a new life.’

“So also says Coleman, another noted Pedobaptist author, the friend and

exponent of Neander, who is regarded as high authority by the opponents

of the Baptists, and who takes frequent occasion to express his aversion

to their faith and practice—yet a regard for the obvious truth compels

him to say, page 372, ‘Ancient Christianity Exemplified.’ ‘The term

baptism is derived from the Greek word _Bapto_, from which term is

formed _Baptizo_, with its derivatives _Baptismos_ and

_Baptisma_—baptism. The primary signification of the original is to dip,

to plunge, immerse. The obvious import of the noun is immersion.’

“Yet, in another place, he _affects_ to regard immersion as a departure

from the apostolic usage:

“‘We cannot resist the conclusion,’ he says, ‘that this mode of baptism

was the first departure from the teaching and example of the Apostles on

this subject.’ ‘_If it was_ a departure from their teachings, it was the

_earliest_—for baptism by immersion, unquestionably, was _very early_

the common mode of baptism.’

“Again, page 396, he says: ‘In the Primitive Church, immediately

subsequent to the age of the Apostles, this [immersion] was undeniably

the common mode of baptism. (The utmost that can be said of sprinkling

in that early period is, that it was in case of necessity _permitted_ as

an exception to a general rule). This fact is so well established that

it were needless to adduce authorities in proof of it.… It is a great

mistake to suppose that baptism by immersion was discontinued when

infant baptism became generally prevalent. The practice of immersion

continued even to the thirteenth or fourteenth century. Indeed it has

_never_ been formally abandoned, but is still the mode of administering

infant baptism in the Greek Church, and in several of the Eastern

Churches.’

“Here, also, is another Pedobaptist historian, Dr. Philip Schaff,

Professor in a Pedobaptist Theological Seminary at Mercersburg,

Pennsylvania. In his ‘History of the Apostolic Church,’ page 568, he

says: ‘Immersion, and not sprinkling, was unquestionably the original

normal form [of baptism]. This is shown by the very meaning of the Greek

words _Baptizo_, _Baptisma_, and _Baptismos_—used to designate the rite.

Then again, by the analogy of the baptism of John, which was performed

in the Jordan [“_en_”], Matt. iii. 6, compare with 16; also, _eis ton

Jordanan_ [into the Jordan], Mark i. 9; furthermore, by the New

Testament _comparisons_ of baptism with the passage through the Red Sea,

1 Cor x. 2; with the _flood_, 1 Peter ii. 21; with a _bath_, Eph. v. 36;

Titus iii 5; with a _burial and resurrection_, Rom. vi. 4; Col. ii. 12;

and, finally, by the general usage of Ecclesiastical antiquity, which

was _always_ immersion, as it is to this day in the Oriental, and also

in the Græco Russian Churches, pouring and sprinkling being substituted

only in cases of urgent necessity, such as sickness and approaching

death.’”

“Are you _sure_, Mr. Courtney, that these learned historians were not

Baptists?”

“Most certainly I am. Their church connections are as well known almost

as their histories. But even if they _had_ been Baptists, I do not see

how that would invalidate their testimony. I hope you do not think that

Baptists cannot tell the truth as well as other people?”

“Oh, no, Mr. Courtney, forgive me—1 did not mean that; but it seems to

me so _very strange_ that good men can say such things in their

writings, and yet act as though they did not believe a single word of

what they say. But perhaps the _first_ historians of the church, from

whom these men have borrowed their statements, were Baptists.”

“Yes, Miss Ernest, the first historians and earliest writers on the

customs and practices of the Apostolic Churches _were_ Baptists. And it

is to them we are really indebted for _all_ our knowledge of the

earliest ages. Matthew, and Mark, and Luke, and John, were Baptists—or

else they might never have told us about those baptisms in the river.

Baptists tell about such things now. Paul was a Baptist, or he would

never have compared baptism to a burial and resurrection. Peter was a

Baptist, or he would never have compared it to the flood. All those New

Testament saints were Baptists, as we have seen in our examination of

the meaning of the _word_ baptize. The very word made them Baptists.

They could not be any thing else; and, after their day, the _Fathers_

(as they are called), that is, the earliest writers among the

Christians, whose works have come down to us, were all Baptists. It was

near three hundred years before there were any professed Christians who

were _not Baptists_.”

“On what authority do you venture such an assertion?” asked Uncle Jones.

“I might say,” replied the schoolmaster, “that I make it on the

authority of your own most eminent and most reliable historians. I have

it over the signatures of Roman Catholic, Episcopalian, Lutheran, Dutch

Reformed, and Presbyterian writers, who, while they have been in full

connection with those very establishments, all of which have (when they

could) been the most virulent and cruel _persecutors_ of the Baptists,

and some of which are _even now_ subjecting our brethren in Europe to

fines and imprisonment, and confiscation of property, because they will

not conform to the corrupt and corrupting superstitions which have been

substituted by Popish authority for the ordinances of Christ—have

nevertheless openly, plainly, and repeatedly declared, as historians,

that the apostolic churches were, in their membership, ordinances,

organization, and government, just such as the Baptist churches are now.

I say, I might give this authority; but I will refer you to the same

source from which they, as historians, derived their information. I say

the Christian Fathers, for the first three centuries, were Baptists,

because these Fathers say so themselves.

“_Justin Martyr_, who is counted among the earliest of the Fathers,

writing to the Emperor, and giving him an account of the churches in his

day, about one hundred and fifty years after Christ, says: ‘I shall now

lay before you the manner of dedicating ourselves to God through Christ

upon our conversion; for, should I omit this, I might not seem to deal

sincerely in this account of our religion. As many as are persuaded and

believe that those things which are taught by us are true, and do

promise to live according to them, are directed, first, to pray, and ask

God, with fasting, the forgiveness of their sins. And we also pray and

fast together with them. _Then we bring them to a place where there is

water_, and they are regenerated in the same way that we are

regenerated, for they are washed in the name of the Father,’ etc.

“_Tertullian_, who lived somewhat later, says: ‘When we are ready to

enter into the water (and even before), we make our protestations before

the minister and in the church, that we renounce the devil and all his

pomps and vanities—afterward, we are _plunged_ in the water.’

“And again, ‘Those who are desirous to dip themselves holily in this

water, must prepare themselves for it by fasting, by watchings, by

prayer, and by sincere repentance for sin.’

“But it is needless to multiply authorities. It is the united testimony

of _all_ the Fathers who speak of the subject at all, that baptism was

in these early ages performed only by immersion, except of necessity in

the near prospect of death. And those who, under such circumstances,

received pouring as a _substitute_, were never said to have been

baptized, but to have been _poured_ upon as a _substitute_ for baptism.

“How any man, who has any character to lose, can in the face of all this

testimony venture the assertion that sprinkling was practiced in the

early churches, and that immersion is a modern invention introduced by

the Mad Men of Munster, is more than I can comprehend,” said Mr.

Courtney. “Merle D’Aubigne, the Historian of the Reformation, the very

man to whom the Munster Men are indebted for most of their present

notoriety—D’Aubigne does not venture any such assertion. On one point,

he says, ‘It seems necessary to guard against misapprehension. Some

persons imagine that the Anabaptists of the time of the Reformation, and

the Baptists of our day, are the same. But they are as different as

possible.… It is but justice to observe that the Baptists of Holland,

England, and the United States (says Fessenden, as quoted by D’Aubigne),

are essentially distinct from those seditious and fanatical individuals

above-mentioned, as they profess an equal aversion to the principles of

the rebellion of the one, and the enthusiasm of the other.’—Pref. to

Hist. of Ref, p. 10. But I find I am summing up on the case before I

have introduced all the evidence. I have referred to historians; I wish

now to call your attention to the testimony of several of the most

eminent and learned _theological_ authors—writing, not as historians,

but as theological disputants.

“I will first introduce Professor Moses Stuart, Who was a citizen of our

own country, and an eminent professor in one of your own theological

seminaries.

“Here is his book. It was written in answer to the question addressed to

him by missionaries in a foreign land, inquiring in what way they should

translate the Greek words which in our version read _baptize_ and

_baptism_. It was evidently written with great care, and not without

much previous study of the subject.

“After referring to a number of eminent and reliable historians in

regard to the practice of the early church, he thus concludes: ‘But

enough—it is a thing made out,’ says Augusti, viz.:—the ancient practice

of immersion. So, indeed, all the writers who have thoroughly

investigated this subject conclude.

“‘I know of no one usage of ancient times,’ continues Mr. Stuart, ‘which

seems to be more clearly and more certainly made out. _I cannot see how

it is possible for any candid man who examines the subject to deny

this._’

“‘In what manner then,’ he asks (p. 362), ‘did the churches of Christ

from a very early period (to say the least), understand the word

_baptizo_ in the New Testament? Plainly they construed it as meaning

immersion.’

“‘We are left in no doubt,’ he says again, ‘about the generally received

usage of the Christian church down to a period several centuries after

the apostolic age.’

“Can any testimony be more explicit, or more satisfactory than this?

“But even Dr. Miller himself, the great champion of Presbyterianism, on

this subject declares, ‘That it is not denied that for the first few

centuries after Christ, the most common mode of administering baptism

was by immersion.’”

“Oh, that is enough, Mr. Courtney,” said the young lady. “After such

declarations by the most eminent historians, and our own theological

professors, I am sure neither Uncle Jones nor any one else can entertain

a shadow of a doubt. We will admit that the practice of the first church

was immersion. I was satisfied of that from the Scripture itself, since

this was the meaning of the word, and consequently it was immersion that

Christ commanded. What I desire to know is, how the _change_ was brought

about, and sprinkling introduced.”

“All in good time, Miss Ernest, we will come to that presently. Have a

little patience. These theological discussions are very tricky affairs.

I want to set this point so far beyond all doubt or disputation that no

one will dare again to intimate that the Baptists originated in the time

of Martin Luther.

“Here is what Martin Luther says about it himself. No Protestant will

doubt that he is a competent witness. ‘The word _baptize_ is a Greek

word. It may be rendered immersion, _as when we plunge something in

water that it may be entirely covered with water_—and though that custom

is _now abolished_ among the generality (for even children are not

entirely immersed, but only have a little water poured on them),

nevertheless they ought to be completely immersed, and immediately drawn

out, for the etymology of the word requires it.’

“Here also is what John Calvin, the very father and founder of the

Presbyterian denomination, says: ‘From these words (John iii. 23), it

may be inferred that baptism was administered by John and Christ by

plunging the whole body under the water. Here we perceive how baptism

was administered _among the ancients, for they immersed the whole body

in water_.’

“Here is also Dr. Whitby, a very learned and eminent divine of the

Church of England: ‘Immersion,’ says he, ‘was religiously observed by

all Christians for THIRTEEN CENTURIES, and was approved by the Church of

England. And,’ he continues, ‘since the change of it into sprinkling was

made without any allowance from the AUTHOR of the institution, or any

license from any Council of the Church [of England], being that which

the Romanist still urgeth to justify his refusal of the cup to the

laity: it were to be wished that this custom [immersion] might be again

of general use.’

“This musty looking old volume is ‘The History of the Bible, by Thomas

Stackhouse, Vicar of Beenham, in England,’ a celebrated Episcopal

clergyman. He says: ‘We nowhere read in Scripture of any one’s being

baptized but by immersion—and several authors have proved; from the acts

of councils and ancient rituals, that this manner of immersion continued

as much as possible to be used for thirteen hundred years after Christ.’

“The celebrated Prelate, Bishop Taylor, of the English Church,

Vice-Chancellor of the University of Dublin, says in his famous work

called ‘Ductor Dubitantium:’ ‘The custom of the Ancient Churches was not

sprinkling, but immersion, in pursuance of the meaning of the word

baptize in the commandment, and the example of our blessed Saviour.’

“Here also is what that earnest-hearted man, Richard Baxter (the author

of the ‘Call to the Unconverted’ and the ‘Saints’ Rest’), says: ‘It is

commonly confessed by us to the Anabaptists, as our commentators

declare, that in the Apostles’ times the baptized were dipped over head

in water.’”

“Oh, please, Mr. Courtney, don’t read us any more such testimony. Any

one who would not be convinced by what you have given us, would not

believe if you should give us ten times more. Do you pray go on, and

show how, and where, and by what authority Christ’s ordinance was

changed.”

“No, no, Mr. Courtney—I want to hear all the proof you have. Never mind

Theodosia—girls always are impatient,” said the mother. “I wish Mr.

Johnson was here, so we could know what he thinks about these

statements, though as for that, I suppose brother Jones knows nearly as

much about it as a preacher.”

“Excuse me, Miss Theodosia—I will not detain you much longer on this

point; I have only a few other witnesses whose testimony I will urge at

_this time_, though there is scarcely a historian of the early days of

Christianity, who does not furnish us with proof. Not many years since,

the King of Holland appointed two very learned and able men, one a

Professor of Theology in the University of Groningen, and the other

Chaplain to the King, to examine into the origin and history of the

Dutch Baptists. They wrote out the result of their investigations and

published the work at Breda, in 1819. In this volume, prepared by these

two learned members of the Dutch Reformed Church, Dr. Ypeig and Dr. J.

J. Durmont, the authors, after tracing up the history of the Baptists,

make use of the following remarkable language:

“‘We have now seen that the Baptists, who were formerly called

Anabaptists, and, in later times, Mennonites, were the original

Waldenses, and who have long, in the history of the Church, received the

honor of that origin. ON THIS ACCOUNT, THE BAPTISTS MAY BE CONSIDERED AS

THE ONLY CHRISTIAN COMMUNITY WHICH HAS STOOD SINCE THE DAYS OF THE

APOSTLES, AND AS A CHRISTIAN SOCIETY WHICH HAS PRESERVED PURE THE

DOCTRINE OF THE GOSPEL THROUGH ALL AGES. The perfectly correct external

and internal economy of the Baptist denomination tends to confirm the

truth, disputed by the Romish Church, that the Reformation brought about

in the sixteenth century was in the highest degree necessary, and at the

same time GOES TO REFUTE THE ERRONEOUS NOTION OF THE CATHOLICS THAT

THEIR COMMUNION IS THE MOST ANCIENT.’

“Such was the impression which this truthful document made upon the

Court, that the Government of Holland offered to the Baptist Churches

the support of the State, which was politely but firmly declined, as

inconsistent with their principles.

“The celebrated Bishop Bossuet says: ‘We are able to make it appear by

the acts of councils and by ancient rituals, that for more than thirteen

hundred years, baptism was administered by immersion throughout the

whole church as far as possible.’” “Now, if you have any further doubt,

I will bring up these very acts of councils, and authentic copies of

these same ancient rituals. They are still on record, and it is not

difficult to avail ourselves of their explicit testimony.”

“Oh, no, Mr. Courtney: these historians and preachers, and bishops, were

none of them Baptists. We all know that, and if the facts had not

compelled them, they would, of course, never have made assertions so

injurious to their own cause, and so directly opposed to their own

practice. If they say that baptism was done by immersion for thirteen

hundred years, of course it must have been so. If Mosheim and Neander,

Bossuet and Taylor, Coleman and Whitby, Stackhouse and Baxter, all

sprinklers themselves and all opposed the Baptists, make such

statements, and even Drs. Miller and Stuart, our own most eminent

writers on the subject, admit their truth, why need we spend any more

time?”

“But what then becomes of your uncle’s opinion, that the Baptists

originated about the year 1530, with the Mad Men of Munster?”

“Oh, I have given up that opinion (which indeed was not more than an

impression) some half an hour ago. The testimony is irresistible.

Immersion was most unquestionably the practice of the early churches;

but I am now, like Theodosia, exceedingly anxious to know how it came to

be universally displaced, and sprinkling universally adopted in its

place.”

“You are mistaken, Professor Jones, if you imagine that this change is

by any means a _universal_ one. It was made by the authority of the

Pope, and is confined to the Roman Catholic Church and its descendants.

The Eastern churches—comprising a vast number of professing

Christians—have never adopted sprinkling, but continue to practice

immersion to the present day; and as Professor Stuart truly states, call

the Western churches ‘sprinkled Christians,’ by way of derision. If you

have any doubt of this, I will prove it to you by the testimony of your

own writers of most unquestionable authority.”

“Oh, no, Mr. Courtney, I do not doubt it. You have convinced me so

often, that I am now willing to take your word for any thing you please

to assert.”

“I thank you, Professor; but still I do not like to deal in assertions.

In regard to this point, however, the proof will come in by the

way—together with that on the time and manner of the change.”

“Do, then, Mr. Courtney, go on With that,” said the young lady “You

don’t know how provoking it is to be kept so long in suspense.”

“Well, here is the testimony. I will leave the story to be told by some

of the most celebrated members of the sprinkling churches. You will, of

course, not doubt their truthfulness. Here is the Edinburgh

Encyclopædia, edited by the learned and celebrated Sir David Brewster.

Let us read what he says on the subject. In the Article on Baptism:

“‘The first law for sprinkling was obtained in the following manner:

Pope Stephen II., being driven from Rome by Astolphus, King of Lombards,

in 753, fled to Pepin, who a short time before had usurped the crown of

France. While he remained there, the Monks of Cressy, in Brittany,

consulted him whether, in case of necessity, baptism performed by

pouring water on the head of the infant would be lawful. Stephen replied

that it would. But though the truth of this fact should be allowed,

which, however, some Catholics deny, yet pouring or sprinkling was

admitted _only in cases of necessity_. It was not till the year 1311,

that the Legislature, in a council held at Ravenna, declared immersion

or sprinkling to be indifferent. In this country (Scotland), however,

sprinkling was never practiced in ordinary cases, till after the

Reformation; and in England, even in the reign of Edward VI., immersion

was commonly observed. But during the persecution of Mary, many persons,

most of whom were Scotchmen, fled from England to Geneva, and there

greedily imbibed the opinions of that church. In 1556, a book was

published at that place containing the form of prayers and ministration

of sacraments, approved by the famous and godly learned man, John

Calvin, in which the administrator is enjoined to take water in his hand

and lay it on the child’s forehead. These Scottish exiles, who had

renounced the authority of the Pope, implicitly acknowledged the

authority of Calvin; and returning to their own country with John Knox

at their head, in 1559, established sprinkling in Scotland. From

Scotland, this practice made its way into England in the reign of

Elizabeth, but was not authorized by the established church.’”

“Do let me look at that book a moment,” said the Professor. “It is very

strange that I should have been told, as I am sure I have been by some

of the learned clergy of our church, that sprinkling was what was

practiced from the earliest ages, and that immersion was attempted to be

introduced in its place by the Anabaptists of Germany about the year

1530—when in fact immersion had been always the practice, and it was

sprinkling that was substituted by John Calvin, the founder of our

church. _Can it be possible that Doctors of Divinity will impose such

falsehoods on their people in order to sustain the practice of the

church?_ I cannot understand it.”

“Perhaps you want more testimony before you can believe it,” said Mr.

Courtney; “and here is ample confirmatory proof in the plain and

explicit declarations of the famous Dr. Wall.”

“Please tell me,” said Theodosia, “who was Dr. Wall? I have often heard

of him, and I know that he wrote one or more books on baptism, but

whether on our side or yours, I have never been informed.”

“Dr. Wall,” said Mr. Courtney, “was a minister of the Episcopal, or

English Church, and after the publication of his work, the satisfaction

it gave was so great, that in a general convocation of the Episcopal

clergy, held February 9th, 1706, it was ordered ‘that the thanks of this

house be given to Mr. Wall, Vicar of Shoreham, in Kent, for the learned

and excellent book he has lately written concerning infant baptism.’”

“Then he must have written against the Baptists, if his work was

approved by the clergy of the Episcopal Church.”

“Of course he did, and his book is considered to this day the ablest

defence of infant baptism with has ever been written.”

“Well, what does he say about the introduction of sprinkling? Does he

agree with the Encyclopædia, which you have read? Where is the passage

which speaks of it? Please read it for us.”

“‘France seems to have been the first country in the world where baptism

by affusion was used, ordinarily, to persons in health, and in the

_public_ way of administering it. It being allowed to _weak_ children

(in the reign of Queen Elizabeth) to be baptized by aspersion, many fond

ladies and gentlemen first, and then, by degrees, the common people,

would obtain the favor of the priest to have their children _pass_ for

weak children, too tender to endure dipping in the water. As for

_sprinkling_, properly so called, it was at 1645 just _then beginning_,

and used by very few. It must have begun in the disorderly times after

forty-one. They (the Assembly of Divines in Westminster) re-formed the

font into a basin. This learned Assembly could not remember that fonts

to baptize in had been _always used by the primitive Christians_ long

before the beginning of Popery, and ever since churches were built; but

that sprinkling, for the purpose of baptizing, was really introduced (in

France first, and then in _other Popish_ countries) in times of Popery,

and that, accordingly, _all those countries in which the usurped power

of the Pope is, or has formerly been owned_, HAVE LEFT OFF DIPPING OF

CHILDREN IN THE FONTS; but that all other countries in the world which

had never regarded his authority, do still use it; and that basins (to

sprinkle out of) except in cases of necessity, were never used by

Papists, or any other Christians whosoever, till by themselves.’—_Hist.

of Infant Baptism_, part 2d, chap. 9.

“This,” said Mr. Courtney, “is Dr. Wall’s account of the first

introduction of sprinkling; and you see that it confirms the truth of

what I told you, that it was introduced by Popery, and is confined to

the countries where Popery prevails, or has prevailed. The Protestant

sects borrowed it from the Catholics. Now look at page 403 of this other

volume, by the same author, and read the passage I have marked.

“‘The way that is ordinarily used, _we cannot deny to have been a

novelty_, brought into this Church (the English) by those that had

learned it at Germany, or at Geneva. And they, not contented to follow

the example of pouring a quantity of water (which had there been

introduced instead of immersion), but improved it (if I may so abuse

that word) from pouring to sprinkling, _that it might have as little

resemblance to the ancient way of baptizing as possible_.’—_Def. of

Hist. of Infant Baptism_, p. 403.

“If you consult the Edinburgh Encyclopædia the British Encyclopædia, and

the Encyclopædia Americana, article Baptism, you will find a complete

history of the whole subject, the truthfulness of which you will feel no

disposition to question. You will there learn that in England the

Westminster Assembly of Divines had a warm discussion whether immersion

or sprinkling should be adopted. But by the earnest efforts of Dr.

Lightfoot, who had great interest in the Assembly, sprinkling was

adopted by a majority of _one_. The vote stood—twenty-four for

immersion, and twenty-five for sprinkling. This was 1643 years after

Christ. The next year an Act of Parliament was passed, requiring the

parents of all children born in the realm to have them sprinkled; and in

1648, some four years afterward, an Ecclesiastical Council, held at

Cambridge, Massachusetts, adopted sprinkling in the place of immersion;

and, in May of the same year, the Legislature of that State passed a law

making it a penal offence for any one to _say_ that infant sprinkling

was not good and valid baptism.”

“That is surely sufficient,” said Uncle Jones, “to satisfy any candid

mind, but yet I can hardly believe it, for very astonishment.”

“What is there so surprising,” replied Mr. Courtney, “in the fact that

men should change Christ’s ordinances? They did the same thing before

our Saviour’s time; and he had more than once occasion to reprove them,

because they taught ‘for ordinances the commandments of men,’ and ‘made

the Word of God of none effect through their traditions.’”

“It is not,” replied the Professor, “so much the _fact_ which fills me

with astonishment, as the care which is evidently taken by ministers of

religion in our church to _conceal the fact_, and make on our minds the

impression that sprinkling, instead of being merely _allowed by the

Pope_, was actually commanded by Jesus Christ, and was commonly

practiced by the church till the Baptists undertook to introduce

immersion. But, if I do not forget, some of our writers have contended

that there was sufficient testimony in the writings of the early Fathers

to show that sprinkling was really employed at a very early day. Is it

not possible that Sir David Brewster, and Dr. Wall, and Professor

Stuart, and all those other great names, including Martin Luther and

John Calvin themselves, may have been mistaken, and that sprinkling was,

after all, the practice of the early church? Did not Cyprian, one of the

ancient Fathers, expressly declare that sprinkling was practiced in his

day, and was considered valid baptism? I am sure I have received such an

impression from some source.”

“You probably received it from some Doctor of Divinity—they are

accustomed to make such impressions, but Cyprian says no such thing. The

case to which you allude presents the very first instance on record in

the whole range of ecclesiastical history in which it was thought

possible to substitute any other act for the act of immersion. The facts

have been preserved by Eusebius, one of the Fathers, and the historian

of the early churches.

“It appears that a certain man, named Novatian, was taken sick, and was

apparently nigh unto death. In this condition he became, as many others

have done, greatly alarmed about his condition; and, professing faith in

Christ, desired to be baptized. But he was too weak to be taken out of

bed and put into the water. The water was, therefore, poured around him

in his bed. He afterward recovered, and devoting himself to the

ministry, applied for priestly orders, and the question arose, whether

one thus ‘poured upon’ in his bed could be accounted a Christian? Now,

it is evident, if pouring or sprinkling had been a common mode of

administering the ordinance, this question would never have been asked.

“Cyprian was written to upon this subject, and he replied, giving it as

his opinion that the grace usually conferred in baptism, might be

received by such pouring. In other words, that, though this was not

baptism, for it is not called baptism, _perichism_ (‘_perichutheis_’),

from _peri_, around, and _cheo_, to pour—yet he considered it a valid

_substitute_ for baptism. This was some time in the third century after

Christ. That such substitution was not common, and had received no

general sanction from the church, is evident from the well known fact

that the Monks of Cressy, in 754, wrote to the Pope, Stephen II.,

inquiring, ‘If it be lawful in case of necessity, occasioned by

sickness, to baptize an infant by pouring water on its head from a cup,

or the hands?’ To which the Pope replied: ‘Such a baptism, performed in

such a case of _necessity_, shall be accounted valid.’ ‘This,’ says

Basnage, ‘is accounted the first law against immersion.’ The Pontiff,

however, did not dispense with immersion except in case of extreme

necessity. This law, therefore, did not change the mode of dipping in

the public baptisms; and it was not till five hundred and fifty-seven

years, that the legislature, in a council at Ravenna, in 1311, declared

immersion and pouring indifferent.”

“Pardon me, Mr. Courtney, if I seem querulous; but did not ORIGEN,

another of the Fathers, speak of baptism as a pouring, when relating the

history of the flooding of the wood, and the sacrifice by the prophet

Elisha in his contest with the prophets of Baal? Does he not call this

_wetting_ a baptism?”

“He does indeed, Professor. He calls it a baptism in the same way that

the writer of the book of Daniel calls the _wetting_ of Nebuchadnezzar a

baptism. He was _baptized_ in the dews of heaven. The word in the Hebrew

is _tabal_, which no one ever doubted signified to dip or to immerse. He

was dipped in the dews of heaven—a most beautiful, though hyperbolical,

figure of speech, expressing the idea that he was as _wet as though he

had been dipped_. The allusion in both cases is to the wetting, not to

the act by which the wetting was occasioned.”

“I am glad,” said Uncle Jones, “that you mentioned that passage in

Daniel, for I confess it has been a stumbling-stone to me; yet you set

aside all my other Scriptural difficulties so easily, that I was almost

ashamed to mention it. I was going to tell you that baptize must signify

something besides immersion, because it was _impossible_ that the

deposed monarch could be actually immersed in dew.”

“If you had told me so, I would have proved to you,” said Mr. Courtney,

“that _dip_ does not mean _to dip_, or to submerge, because Milton, a

standard English writer, represents one as saying that he is dipped all

over in the perspiration of his own body:

_“‘A cold shuddering dew dips me all over.’_

“If Daniel had been translated as he should have been, ‘His body was

_dipped_ in the dews of heaven,’ everybody would have recognized the

force and beauty of the figure, as we do in Milton. It would have been

like that expression which represents the good land of Canaan as

‘_flowing_’ with milk and honey; or, like that which represents God as

_pouring out_ blessings till there should not be room to receive them.

Such hyperbolical figures are extremely beautiful, and are common in all

languages.

“Nebuchadnezzar is said to be dipped in dew, and Origen says the wood

and the sacrifice were immersed in water, to express the completeness of

the soaking or drenching which they received.”

“Yes,” said Theodosia, “Edwin made use of the word _ducking_ last

evening in the same way. You recollect, Mr. Courtney, the lad who pulled

the bucket of water over on his head in school yesterday, so much to the

amusement of all the boys. Well, Edwin, in relating the circumstances,

said that the little fellow got a good ‘_ducking_.’ By which he meant of

course, that he was as wet as though he had _dived_ in the water _like a

duck_. It would have been equally proper to have said that he got a good

‘dipping,’ and yet neither ducking or dipping means to pour upon—they

are diving and plunging still.”

“Well, well, Theodosia,” said the mother, “that is what I should call

stepping from the sublime to the ridiculous. Please go on, Mr. Courtney,

and don’t mind her nonsense.”

“Indeed, Mrs. Ernest, I feel obliged to your daughter for so appropriate

an illustration of the great principle of interpretation which must

guide us in deciding upon the meaning of such passages. She has shown us

that not only in Scriptural usage, and in the poets, but even in common

talk among the very children, _one mode_ of wetting is sometimes

figuratively employed to designate another mode; and that a person or

thing that is as thoroughly _wet_ as though it _had been_ dipped, may be

appropriately and beautifully said _to be dipped_.

“But now to return to the subject of our conversation. I have proved to

you, by the united testimony of Mosheim, Neander, and Moses Stuart—of

Luther, and Calvin, and Whitby, and Taylor, and Baxter—by Drs. Ypeig and

Durmont, Coleman and Bossuet, to whose testimony I might have added that

of many others of the highest authority, both among the ancients and the

moderns, that immersion was the practice of the early churches, and

continued to be the only practice, _except_ in cases of _supposed_

necessity, for MORE THAN THREE HUNDRED YEARS. I have showed you further,

how ‘pouring’ was first practiced irregularly, and without authority

from the Bible, or the Pope, in some rare cases of extreme sickness,

till the Monks of Cressy obtained the sanction of the Pope (not of

Christ) for its use in these _extreme cases of sickness_, more than

seven hundred years after Christ, and how immersion and pouring were at

length declared to be indifferent by the Pope and his Council (not by

the Scriptures) at Ravenna, in 1311.

“I have showed you also how John Calvin and the Westminster Assembly of

Divines were the means of bringing sprinkling into the English and

Presbyterian Churches of Scotland and England—whence it came over to

America with the Colonists.

“I have showed you also that as this change was made by the Pope and the

Papal Church, so it is confined to those countries which are, or have

been, under Roman Catholic rule, and that the Eastern Churches, which

never acknowledged the dominion of the Pope, have continued to practice

immersion even to the present day. I have showed you all this, not by

the testimony of _Baptist_ witnesses, but by that of members of

sprinkling churches—by Lutherans, Episcopalians, and Presbyterians; and

these not men of doubtful character, and unknown to fame, but of

world-wide celebrity, both in regard to their religious and their

intellectual character. He who, after this, will not believe that

immersion was the baptism of the early churches, would not believe

though Paul himself should return from the dead to testify.”

“But, Mr. Courtney,” said Mrs. Ernest, “what if it was? Must we be

immersed, because the old Fathers were immersed? I thought you Baptists

were opposed to old traditions.”

“We are opposed, Mrs. Ernest,” said he, very solemnly. “We are opposed

to the substitution of the _traditions of men for the teachings of the

Word of God_. We have ascertained from the Word itself that it was

immersion which was commanded by Jesus Christ. It was thus the early

Christians understood it. It was this which, for many hundred years,

they practiced; but at length the man-made ordinance of sprinkling and

pouring was introduced by the authority of the Pope and his councils.

You have adopted _this_—your church almost universally practices it—you

have no other authority for it, as I have proved by your own writers,

but that of the Pope. Is it not true, therefore, that you are in your

church ‘teaching for doctrines the commandments of men?’

“I did not refer to the usage of the early churches as the _authority_

for immersion. If I could not find it in the Bible, I would not receive

it, though it had been practiced from the time of Noah. Tradition is no

authority in matters of religion. I may use it to confirm the teaching

of the actual commandment, but where there is no express precept or

example recorded in God’s Word, I owe no obedience in matters of

religion.”

“But why, then, did you go into this long investigation of the practice

of the church?”

“I did it, madam, for the satisfaction of Professor Jones and your

daughter, who seemed to have a sort of silent conviction that the simple

fact that sprinkling was _so generally practiced_, was in some way or

other sufficient evidence that it must have been commanded in the

Scriptures. I, therefore, traced immersion back to Jesus Christ, and

showed where he commanded it. I have now traced _pouring_ back to Pope

Stephen II. and showed where he allowed it in cases of necessity, and to

the Popish council at Ravenna, and showed where they allowed it in other

cases; and I have traced _sprinkling_, properly so-called, back to John

Calvin, and showed where he commanded it in his Book of Prayers and

Sacraments, published at Geneva. I have, therefore, founded immersion on

the _rock_ of God’s Word, and at the same time convinced you all; I

trust, that pouring and sprinkling rest only on the _sand_ of human

invention—not having even a credible _tradition_ to rest upon.”

Uncle Jones listened with some uneasiness to this long speech. He felt

its force, and recognized its truthfulness, but he was doubtful of the

effect it might have upon his sister. In fact, he was afraid of an

explosion.

Affection for her daughter had, however, been working wonders in the

mother’s mind within the last two days. She found that Theodosia _would_

examine, and she desired that she would do it _quickly_. She found she

was likely to be _convinced_, and she began to excuse her by considering

the weight and invincibility of the arguments. Now, she saw that she

_was_ convinced, and every additional reason for such conviction was a

comfort to her maternal pride, as it was new proof that her daughter was

not such a simpleton as to believe without the most convincing evidence.

She had not the most distant idea of being convinced _herself_. She did

not hear or weigh the testimony for herself—she heard and thought only

for Theodosia—and since her daughter _would_ become a Baptist, she was

gratified that it was nothing less than the most _unanswerable

arguments_ that compelled her to do so.

So far, therefore, from looking angry, she seemed rather pleased with

this conclusion of the schoolmaster’s arguments; and she herself

suggested that he should enter upon the other branch of it, by reminding

him that he had promised to show that the American Baptists did not

originate with Roger Williams any more than the European Baptists did

with the Mad Men of Munster.

“That is one of the easiest things in the world to do,” replied Mr.

Courtney. “Even granting that Roger Williams established the _first_

Baptist Church which was ever known in this country, yet it would not

follow that all the Baptists, or _any_ of the Baptist Churches received

their baptism from him; for there have been, every year since his day,

more or less regularly immersed Baptists, and regularly ordained Baptist

ministers coming to this country; and even though he had founded the

church at Providence, and that in an irregular manner, before any other

Baptist Church was founded—that would not invalidate the regularity of

any other of the thousands and thousands of Baptist Churches, unless it

could be made to appear that they were all colonies from that. I need

not, therefore, spend any time upon this point. Of all the thousands of

Baptist Churches in America, there are none whose pastors and members

have had any manner of dependence on the church founded by Roger

Williams. They have many of them received baptism from the _Dutch_

Baptists, of whom Drs. Ypeig and Durmont testify that they belong to a

body of Christians who can trace their origin down to the very times of

the Apostles. Many of them received it from the _Welsh_ Baptists, who

can trace their descent back to the sixth or seventh century. Many of

them received it from the English Baptists, who have been the victims of

proscription and persecution from a very early day. But _none_ of them

received baptism from Roger Williams, or the church said to have been

established by him at Providence. The truth is, the society established

by Roger Williams, Holliman, and others, soon died out. It never planted

any other church. It cannot be proved that any Baptist who received

baptism in that body and by their authority, was ever concerned in

baptizing any founder of other churches.”

“I have often heard of Roger Williams,” said Theodosia, “as the founder

of the Baptists in this country. Please tell me what was his relation to

them.”

“Roger Williams adopted at one time Baptist sentiments, at least, in

some particulars,” replied Mr. Courtney. “He desired to be immersed.

There was no Baptist minister at hand. He consequently immersed one of

his followers, who, in turn, immersed him, and then he considered

himself competent to immerse others. The little company, thus

irregularly baptized, called itself a Baptist church; but, in about four

months, Roger Williams himself changed his opinions and withdrew from

the society. The so-called church soon died out, and the present Baptist

Church of Providence was founded on an independent basis, separate and

distinct from that. It seems probable, however, from recent historical

researches, that the _oldest_ Baptist Church in the United States, is

that at Newport, in Rhode Island, founded by John Clark, against the

regularity of whose baptism there has, so far as I know, been nothing

alleged. Though, as to that, even if _this, and all the other churches

of Rhode Island_, had been, and were still, irregular up to the present

time, it would not affect the standing of the great body of the churches

in the United States, since very few of them derived their baptism

directly or indirectly from Rhode Island—and not single one of them from

Roger Williams.”

THE SEVENTH NIGHT’S STUDY.

In which it is clearly proved by the Scriptures themselves and by the

testimony of the most learned and eminent pedobaptist ministers, that

infant baptism was not commanded by Christ or the apostles: infant

baptism was not practiced or sanctioned by Christ or his apostles.

Seventh Night’s Study.

The attentive reader may have observed that Mr. Percy has not favored us

with his presence for the last three nights. Though he seemed so greatly

interested in the subject, yet with the third night’s study he

apparently abandoned it. Since that time he had not visited Mrs.

Ernest’s cottage, or held any communion with its inmates. He did not

know what progress Theodosia had made in her investigations, nor what

assistance she had received from Uncle Jones or others. The remark made

by Mr. Courtney, as they were about to separate on that occasion, “that

he would find it much easier to satisfy his mind that sprinkling and

pouring were not baptism, than he would to abandon his church

connections and be baptized according to the commandment of Jesus

Christ,” had opened his eyes. He had, till that moment, looked upon the

subject merely as one of curious speculation. It was till then a mere

question of fact, to be decided by testimony. As such, its investigation

greatly interested him. It was congenial to his logical and

discriminating cast of mind, and he had been studying it as he would a

case of law. But he now saw that it was a _practical_ matter. If he

decided that he had not been baptized, consistency would require that he

should at once apply for baptism. This would break off his connection

with a large, and wealthy, and influential body, and tie him down to a

little company of obscure and ignorant laborers and mechanics—for of

such was the newly-organized Baptist Church of which we have been

speaking chiefly composed. This was something he could not think of. His

natural pride had never been humbled by the grace of God, and he was not

at all prepared to resign a position at once honorable and profitable,

for one of comparative insignificance and contempt. He thought of these

things as he was going home that night, and at once resolved that he

would have no more to do with the subject.

In this resolution he had been confirmed, by a visit next morning from

Colonel White, one of the members of the Session, who was a wealthy

speculator in lands, and one of his best patrons. After some

conversation about matters of business, Colonel White carelessly

remarked: “They have it rumored, Squire Percy, that you are on the eve

of leaving our church and becoming a Baptist.”

“Let me assure you, colonel, that there is not the slightest foundation

for such a report. I have, indeed, spent a few hours in the

investigation of the mode of baptism, but it was for the mere purpose of

fortifying my mind with the best arguments in favor of our position on

that subject. I found, indeed, that the immersionists have much firmer

ground to stand upon than I imagined; but I have never for a moment

entertained the idea of leaving the Presbyterian Church.”

“I am glad to hear it, Mr. Percy, for I prefer, and so do several of our

best firms, to employ you to attend to our business, and we had all

about concluded that we could never trust our interests in the hands of

one so fickle minded as such a change would prove a man to be; and,

besides this, since the death of Deacon Smith, there has been a vacancy

in the Church Session, which we have been desirous to fill with some

talented and efficient _young_ man, since the rest of us are now

beginning to be somewhat advanced in years. We were talking of you, and

the only objection seemed to be, that you were yet unmarried. I took the

liberty to say that I thought _that_ difficulty would be removed in the

course of another month, as I understood the wedding-day was fixed. It

is no secret, you know. But then, rumor says also, that Miss Theodosia

is going over to the Baptists; and that her mother, with all her

authority, has not been able to dissuade her from the investigation of

the subject, though she sees very plainly where it will lead her.”

“It is very true,” said the young man, “that she has been engaged in the

study of this subject, but I do not know to what conclusion she may

come. For my own part, I have concluded to have nothing more to do with

it.”

“It is a delicate matter, Mr. Percy, and perhaps I ought not to mention

it, and nothing but my regard for your future happiness, and the honor

of our church, could induce me to do it; but would it not be wise in you

to use your influence (which I know must be very great) to induce her to

pause before she takes a step which will cause your house, always after

your marriage, to be divided against itself? I know I have no right to

advise, but I take the liberty of a friend to you, and a friend to your

father before you, to merely suggest such a thought. Perhaps, on

reflection, you may think it advisable, either to see her immediately,

or write a little line, stating your own determination, and whatever

else you may think most likely to operate upon her mind, so as to

prevent such a terrible event as it would be to you and all of us,

should she so far disgrace her name and dishonor her profession as to

leave the communion in which she was born, and by which she has been

nourished and taught—in which her grandparents lived and died—and of

which she is herself the ornament and pride, and throw herself away,

with all her loveliness and intelligence, by uniting her fate to that

ignorant and obscure sect, with a mechanic for a preacher, who have

started up here like a mushroom in a single night, and will probably

pass away again in a day.”

Mr. Percy was about to reply, when the colonel anticipated him by rising

and grasping the young man’s hand very warmly in both of his. “Pardon

me,” he said, “I ought not to have spoken thus. Forget that I have said

it. But don’t forget my case in the Supreme Court. I have entrusted it

entirely to you. I want you to have all the honor which will accrue from

a decision in your favor. Good morning. You will need all your time to

make preparation for next week’s Circuit Court—you start on Saturday, I

believe?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, good luck to you,” and the colonel was gone.

Mr. Percy walked his office with a restless, undecided air, for some

time, and then set himself resolutely to work in the preparation of some

cases for the approaching court. But he could not banish the subject

from his mind. He sometimes thought he would go at once, and have

another conversation with his betrothed upon the subject; but when he

remembered her earnest and conscientious truthfulness of soul, he feared

to lower himself in her estimation by presenting to her any but the real

reasons for his abandonment of the investigation, and these he hardly

dared to own even to himself. This was on Wednesday morning. He learned

on Thursday that Uncle Jones had been conversing with Theodosia on the

subject; and, on Friday, that both he and Mr. Courtney had been at the

cottage; and Mrs. Tattle had told young Dr. Woodruff, who was his

intimate friend and confidant, that, on the coming Sabbath, Miss Ernest

was to be baptized.

Early on Saturday morning, he was obliged to start to a distant

county-site to attend a session of the Circuit Court. Before his return

(if this story were true) the die would be cast. If he would prevent it

at all, he must do it now. He determined to write what he felt he could

not speak. The letter read thus:

“DEAREST:—I must leave town to-morrow, and shall be gone a week.

I have been so pressed by business, that I have not been able to

call in again, as I intended when I saw you last. I cannot come

to-night, but I cannot leave without expressing to you once more

my earnest love. You know, dearest Theodosia, that the happiness

of my life is bound up in yours. I have no wish or hope in the

future but those of which you form a part; and, if what I am

about to say should be unpleasant to you, I beg you will

remember that it is dictated by the tenderest and most ardent

affection. It is because I value your happiness even more than

my own, that I venture to say what I am about to utter. I have

learned from rumor that you have already determined to abandon

our church, and unite with that contemptible sect of Baptists. I

do not know if this be true or not. I hope and pray the rumor

may prove false. I will not say these Baptists are not right

about the mode of baptism. It may be they are. But whether one

mode or another be correct, baptism is not essential to

salvation. It is a mere outward form, and I cannot, for the sake

of a mere external and non-essential ceremony, abjure the church

of my fathers. I fondly hope that she, whom I love more than all

else in life, will agree with me in this. I cannot bear the

thought that one so beautiful, so lovely, so accomplished, so

fitted to shine and _lead_ in the highest circle of our

society—one, too, who has the unbounded confidence and affection

of her brothers and sisters in the church—should bring such

dishonor upon her father’s name, such sorrow to her mother’s

heart, and such regret to his, who rejoices in the hope that he

will be the companion of her life, and the husband of her love,

as to prove recreant to her Christian faith—forsake the church

of the mother who offered her to God in infancy—of the teachers

who instructed her childhood—of the pastor who prayed with her

in the time of her conviction, and rejoiced over her at the time

of her conversion; and may I not add of him who, trusting in the

solemn promise of our betrothal, expects to spend his life in

promoting her happiness? How can you, my dearest love—how can

you disregard such considerations as these? I know that you are

conscientious in every step you take, and I beg you to reflect

whether these things should not have some influence with you. I

know that you mean to do right, and I entreat that you will

consider if such a course will not be wrong. I know I have no

right to dictate, but, oh! I do beseech you, if you have any

love for me, that you will not so mortify and distress, not me

alone, but all who love you, as to unite your fate with those

boorish, uneducated, and bigoted people, called Baptists.

“Your distressed, but still most affectionate,

“G. W. PERCY.”

This note he hardly trusted himself to read, so he sealed it up, and

despatched a messenger to carry it to Mrs. Ernest’s. Its immediate

effect on Theodosia we have already seen. When she had reached her own

room, she threw her head upon her mother’s bosom, and, sighing as if a

heart-string broke with every deep-fetched sob that came, gave free

expression to her uncontrollable distress.

It was long before the mother became sufficiently composed to read the

letter, and learn what it was that had occasioned such a terrible

heart-sorrow to her loving and sensitive child. Terrible she knew it

must be, for never in her life had she seen Theodosia exhibit such

unutterable distress. The young lady herself did not know precisely what

the letter contained. She had loved Mr. Percy with all the fervor of a

first and only love. The day was fixed only a few weeks in the future

for their wedding. The preparations for it were even then begun. To be

what Mr. Percy would approve, was to her the highest point of earthly

ambition. She prized her peerless beauty, not for its own sake, but

because Mr. Percy praised it. She valued her accomplishments, chiefly

because Mr. Percy thought them desirable. With all her independence of

thought and originality of mind, she had learned to think that she was

wrong, if Mr. Percy did not think her right.

In this investigation he had gone with her step by step, so long as he

had taken any part in it. She had, till now, not the very slightest

suspicion that he would not _act out his convictions_, as well as

herself—much less did she imagine that he would so fearfully disapprove

of her obedience to what she now was fully satisfied was the plain and

unmistakable command of her Redeemer.

The first influence of this communication was like that of a heavy blow

upon the head. It staggered, and then stunned the mind. She only felt

that some great and terrible calamity had fallen on her heart and

crushed it. She could not recall the language of the letter, but only a

general impression of its contents. But there was, here and there, a

word which was burnt into her very brain. With all its protestations of

affection, she felt (for love is jealous in such things) that if she

became a Baptist, she forfeited his love.

To her mother she could speak words no other’s ear might hear—and when

her sobs had somewhat ceased, and she had been persuaded to lie down,

and try to be composed, she drew her mother’s face to hers, and while.

their tears mingled together upon her cheek, she whispered, “I did not

think he could have cast me off for seeking to know and do my duty.”

“My precious child, he has not cast you off—he says again and again,

that he loves you dearly, and hopes to spend his life in rendering you

happy.”

“But, mother, does he not say he cannot bear _to think of my becoming a

Baptist_? Does he not call them, whom now I do believe are the true

church of Jesus Christ—does he not call them _that contemptible sect_?

Does he not say that because he _has no right to dictate_, he _entreats_

me not to _mortify_ him, not to _distress_ him, by becoming one of that

little company of boorish, uneducated, and bigoted people? No, no,

mother, I see it all. If I become a Baptist, I must resign his love—I

must give up all the most cherished hopes of my life. After such an

expression of his dislike to these poor and humble disciples of Jesus, I

would not dare, if I were one of them, to become his wife. I must choose

between him and my Saviour—I see it all—but I can’t choose now. Oh! my

mother, pray for me—pray for me! _You_ will not cast me off, my mother:

_you_ will love me still. Will you not, my mother? You can love, even

though I do mortify and distress you, can’t you mother?”

“Yes, yes, darling—don’t look at me so wildly. I will love you always—I

will love you dearly. And so will Mr. Percy, even though you do mortify

and distress him. He can’t help loving you, my sweet child. No one, who

knows you, can do any thing but love you.”

“No, mother, _he can’t love as I must be loved_, were I the wife of his

bosom. But I dare not think of that now. I must pray—I must ask wisdom—I

must get strength from heaven. Leave me now, mother, but don’t forget to

pray for me.”

The mother went away—and, kneeling down, poured out her heart in a

sincere and fervent prayer, that God would indeed give comfort to her

poor child’s loving and smitten spirit. While she, the dear, sweet

child, lay still upon her bed, and only prayed with those groanings that

cannot be uttered, for _strength to bear_, as well as _energy to do_—her

mind grew calmer and clearer, and when her mother came, an half hour

after, to bid her good-night, she was in a deep sleep, with something

almost like a smile upon her face. This may seem strange to one who does

not know that one effect of sudden, deep, and terrible sorrow is quickly

to exhaust the nervous energies and predispose to heavy slumber. There

is, therefore, a most affecting beauty in the language of the

Evangelist, when he says of the disciples, whom Jesus had left only a

little time, while he went to pray, that he returned to them, and found

them _sleeping for sorrow_. No other language could so perfectly express

the deep, intense, and soul-exhausting _agony of mind_ which they had

felt on learning that their beloved Lord was soon to perish by the hands

of his enemies, and that one of their number should be the wretch who

would betray him into their hands.

So Theodosia might now be said to be sleeping for sorrow. She did not

wake till after her ordinary time of rising in the morning. When she

first became conscious, there was a feeling of weight upon her eyelids

which prevented her from opening them; and as she lay there, motionless,

the events of the past evening began to come back, like the

dimly-remembered imagery of some fearful dream. At first, she was only

conscious that something terrible had befallen her, and it required some

little effort to remember what it was. Then came to view the letter,

just as it looked when her mother handed it to her as she sat in the

parlor. She could see every mark of every letter of the superscription.

Then the open letter was before her; and she read some of the lines as

they had marked themselves with terrible distinctness on her brain;

others she could not _em_, but only a dim impression of their sense came

up in her remembrance. When, as she ran thus in her mind over the

letter, she came to where it read, “I know I have no right to

dictate—but oh! I do beseech you, if you have any love for me, that you

will not so mortify and distress, not me alone,” etc., the tears flowed

freely, and she was able to open her eyes.

Her mother had, at that moment, come in, and was bending over her.

“My poor child,” said she, as she saw the tears start even before she

seemed to be awake—“how do you feel this morning?”

“Is it morning, mother? I have been asleep—I have had a terrible

dream—or was it all reality? Do, mother, tell me, did you bring me a

letter last night from Mr. Percy?”

“Yes, my child, you are not quite awake. It was no dream; but the

reality is not so terrible as you imagine. Let me give you this cup of

coffee, and you will feel refreshed.”

“Theodosia sat up in bed and sipped the coffee—and shortly afterward got

up, and went and sat beside her mother and engaged in some worsted work

which she had begun the day before. When her mother went out, she

followed her, and stood beside her till she returned; so she continued

all through the day, accompanying her as constantly and almost as

noiselessly as her shadow. She did not speak—she did not weep—she

sometimes _tried_ to smile, but it was pitiful to see the effort made to

divert her mother’s mind and make her think she was not _so very bad_.

In this condition we must leave her for the present, and go to the

dwelling of Professor Jones, where Mr. Courtney and the Rev. Mr. Johnson

are waiting to engage in the discussion of the subject of infant

baptism—which discussion, if it should prove to be less entertaining

than this little narrative of what transpired at Mrs. Ernest’s, will, we

trust, be more instructive.

“If I understood you correctly, Mr. Courtney,” said Professor Jones

(when they were all assembled), “you asserted that there was in the

Scriptures not the slightest authority for the baptism of infants, and

that baptism received in infancy is not valid baptism.”

“You are _nearly_ correct,” said Mr. Courtney, smiling. “I did not

_assert_ that there was no such authority, for it is not my habit to

deal in _mere assertions_. I said that I would _prove_ that this was

so.”

“But how will you set about proving such a negative?”

“By offering the only testimony which the nature of the case admits. Our

authority to baptize any one, infant or adult, is derived only from the

_commandments_ or _example_ of Christ or his apostles. All they said and

all they did which is of any authority to us, is recorded in the Word of

God. Now if I can’t find, and you can’t show me, _any single place_

where an infant was commanded to be baptized, or _any single place_

where one is said to have been baptized, then I think I may venture to

say that _there is no authority there for infant baptism_.”

“I think so too; but I am certain we can show you a number of such

places. Can we not, Mr. Johnson?”

“Certainly we can. It has always been my understanding that the baptism

of the infant children of believers is explicitly commanded by both

Christ and the apostles; and what was required by their precepts, they

enforced by their example. They both commanded and they practiced it.”

“Very good. Here then is the point on which we are at issue. _If the

places are in the Book, you can show them._ I will not be unreasonable.

I do not ask even for two witnesses—I only require _one_. Show me _one

solitary instance_ of either precept or example, and I will give up the

case.”

“I have been accustomed to think,” said the Professor, “that the

commission itself, as recorded in Matt. xxviii. 19, and in Mark xvi. 15,

16, contained all the authority which was given to the Christian Church

to administer the ordinance of baptism; and I had supposed that the

authority to baptize infants was to be found in what Christ said on that

occasion—‘Go ye into all the world, and preach the Gospel to every

creature. He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved; but he that

believeth not shall be damned.’”

“That,” said Mr. Johnson, “is what Mark says. Get a Testament and see

how it reads in Matthew. I think it is somewhat different. Here it

is—‘Go ye therefore and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of

the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Teaching them to

observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and lo! I am with

you always, even unto the end of the world.’”

“Very good,” said Mr. Courtney. “You have the law all now before you. Is

there in it a single allusion, even the faintest, to infants? Did Christ

say, as you Presbyterians do, Go baptize believers and their infant

children—or believers only? Matthew says, _teach_ them and _then_

baptize them. So they must be such as can be taught. But can a little

babe, ‘mewling and puking in its mother’s arms,’ be taught the doctrines

of salvation by Jesus Christ? Mark says—‘He that _believeth_ and is

baptized;’ so that he speaks of none baptized but those who had first

_believed_. Can little infants, who do not yet so much as know their

right hand from their left, exercise faith in the Saviour of souls?

_You_ will not, I am sure, venture to say they can, though there have

been some _Doctors of Divinity_ who were silly enough to make such

assertions. And Matthew, in fact, says just the same that Mark does; for

‘the word rendered _teach_ here, is not the one that is usually so

translated in the New Testament. This word properly means _disciple_, or

_make disciples_ of all nations.’—(_Barnes’ Notes, In. loc_.) So also

says that eminent and good man, Dr. Doddridge, author of the ‘Rise and

Progress of Religion’: ‘Here it is to be observed, _first_, certain

things are enjoined, viz.: to _disciple_—to baptize—to teach. Secondly,

these things are enjoined, in a _certain order_, viz.: the order in

which they stand in the divine commission.’—(_Dod. Lec._) So says also

that other great and good man, the pious Baxter, author of ‘The Saints’

Rest’:

“‘Go _disciple_ me all nations—and as for those,’ he continues, ‘who say

they are discipled _by_ baptizing and not _before_ baptizing, they speak

not the sense of the text, nor that which is true or rational, if they

mean it absolutely as so spoken, else why should one be baptized more

than another?’ ‘This text is not like some occasional historical mention

of baptism, but it is _the very commission_ of Christ to his apostles

for preaching and baptizing, and purposely expresseth their several

works in their several orders. Their _first_ task is by teaching to make

disciples, who are by Mark called _believers_. The _second_ work is to

_baptize_ them—whereunto is annexed the promise of salvation. The

_third_ is to teach them all other things which are afterward to be

learned in the school of Christ. To contemn _this order_ is to renounce

_all rules of order_, for where can we expect to find it, if not here?’

‘I profess,’ he goes on to say, ‘my conscience is fully satisfied from

this text that it is one sort of faith, even _saving_ faith, that must

go before baptism; and the profession whereof the minister must

expect.’—_Dis. on the Right to Sacrament_, pp. 91⁠–⁠150.

“Dr. Hibbard, a Methodist, in his Commentary on Matt. xxviii. 19⁠–⁠20,

says—‘It is well known that our English version does not give a

satisfactory view of this passage. The word rendered teach in the 19th

verse is altogether a different word in the original from that rendered

teach in the 20th. It should read, Go _disciple_, that is make

_converts_ to Christianity of all nations,’ etc.

“Neither of you, gentlemen, nor any other Greek scholar, will dispute

that _matheteusate_, in the first part of this commission, means make

disciples, as certainly as _didaskontes_ means teaching in the last part

of it. Nor can you, or any man of common sense, pretend that any are

commanded to be baptized, but those who have first been made disciples.

Now what is the New Testament meaning of a disciple? Jesus Christ

himself shall answer: Luke xiv. 26, 27, 33. ‘If any man come to me and

hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren,

and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he _cannot be my disciple_. And

whosoever doth not bear his cross and come after me _cannot be my

disciple_. So likewise, whosoever he be of you, that forsaketh not all

that he hath, he _cannot be my disciple_.’ Do little infants, who do not

even know the name of Christ, and scarcely know their own, so love

Christ that the love they have to all others is like hatred compared to

that they feel for him? Can little infants forsake all for Christ, and

do they daily take their cross and follow him? Then they are his

disciples, and are commanded to be baptized. But no sensible man who is

not a _Doctor of Divinity_ would ever think of such absurdity. _You do

not pretend to baptize infants on any such grounds._ You do not ask in

them for any evidence of penitence, or piety, or faith, or love, or any

thing else that goes to make a disciples of Christ.”

“No,” replied Mr. Johnson, “we baptize them on the _faith of their

parents_.”

“But this commission says nothing about baptizing the _children of

believing parents_. By it the ministers of Christ are commanded to

baptize _disciples_ (according to Matthew) and _believers_ (according to

Mark); but in regard to the _children_ of these disciples and believers,

they are both as silent as the grave.”

“It was not necessary,” said Mr. Johnson, “to put the authority for the

baptism of infants _in the commission_, since the matter is fully

provided for elsewhere. I grant that it is not in _this_ passage, but it

does not follow that it is not in the Bible.”

“Oh! no—certainly not,” said Mr. Courtney. “I am easy to be satisfied;

show it to me _in any other place_, and it will do quite as well.”

“But, I do not feel disposed,” said Professor Jones “to give up this

passage so easily. Does not the term ‘_all nations_’ include infants as

well as adults?”

“Certainly, but they were not to _baptize all nations_, for this would

include _all unbelievers_ and _their_ children, as well as _believers_

and _their_ children. They were to Go to all nations (not to the Jews

alone, as they had been used to think); and among all nations they were

to make disciples, as many as they could—and those disciples who

believed they were to baptize.”

“But, Mr. Courtney, let me put in another plea for the infants. I am

very anxious to get them into this commission, for I have always thought

they were surely there. It is evident they are not included in the

expression ‘all nations,’ since it is true, as you say, it will include

all infidels, idolators, profligates, and murderers, as well as the

infant children of unbelievers—but are they not included in the word

disciples? May they not, in view of their innocence, and purity, and

evident fitness for heaven, be properly called the disciples of Jesus?

Did not Jesus himself compare his disciples to them, and say that none

could enter heaven who did not become like one of them? I will

therefore, put it on this ground: None but disciples are to be baptized,

but infants are already by nature disciples—and therefore infants are to

be baptized.”

“But,” said Mr. Courtney, “the disciples who were to be baptized were

_not_ disciples by _nature_. They were to be _made_ disciples. They were

to be _believing_ disciples, and capable of learning, for they were to

be taught. Now as infants are not _made disciples_ by hearing the

Word—as they are incapable _of faith_ or of instruction in the things

that Christ commanded, they cannot be included in the term disciples.”

“Yes, but infants have the natural _capacity to believe and to be

taught_, which will in time be fully developed.”

“Very true; and so when these capacities are fully developed, and they

_actually have believed_, they will have become disciples. You know very

well that children do not ordinarily grow up the disciples of Jesus, but

the servants of sin, and all of them need conversion after they come to

the development of their faculties, before they can be disciples. They

are in infancy in _some respects like to disciples_, but they are _not_

disciples, but ‘are by _nature_ the children of wrath even as

others’—and as soon as they are old enough, they show it very plainly.”

[Illustration: Presbyterian minister baptizes an infant by sprinkling.]

[Illustration: Infant crying in his mother’s arms after baptism.]

“Well, I fear we must give up the commission. But tell me this, if

infants are not fit subjects for baptism, how can they be fit for

heaven?”

“Those only are fit subjects for baptism, whom _Christ commanded to be

baptized_. The Gospel has nothing to do with infants. There is in it no

command addressed to them, nor is any act, either of mind or body,

required of them in order to their salvation. They are no more required

to believe than they are to be baptized. They are saved without either.

You are required to do both. To _you_, God says _believe_ and be

baptized. You profess to have _believed_, but you have never made the

slightest effort to be baptized. What was done to you in infancy,

without your knowledge or assent, was no _act of yours_. You are still

living in open disobedience to this law. Jesus Christ did not command

_your parents_ to _have you_ baptized—putting the responsibility on

them, but he commanded _you_ to be baptized for yourself; and that not

_before_ you believed, but _afterward_: ‘He that believeth, and [then]

is baptized, shall be saved.’”

“It seems to me, Mr. Courtney,” said the pastor, “that you are rather

early in your application of the subject. We have granted, indeed, that

the authority for infant baptism is not in the commission by which we

are directed to baptize adult believers, but it may be found elsewhere.

A recent writer on this subject, the Rev. Dr. Summers, has very

expressively said: ‘That the New Testament ABOUNDS with the proofs of

infant baptism.’”

“Then, sir, it will be very easy to find at least _one text_ which

teaches it.”

“Certainly it will, not only one, but many.”

“But I only ask for _one_; and if you have several, give me that first

which you most rely upon.”

“Well, sir, you have the Testament in your hand, please turn to Matthew

xix. 13, 14: ‘Then were brought unto him little children, that he should

put his hands upon them, and pray. And the disciples rebuked them. But

Jesus said, suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not,

for of such is the kingdom of Heaven.’ Do you not see some authority for

infant baptism in that?”

“Indeed, sir, I cannot—can you?”

“Yes, truly. It is to my mind perfectly satisfactory. And I do not see

how it can fail to convince any candid man who reads it.”

“Your mind, Mr. Johnson, must be easily satisfied then, for I can’t see

_one word_ about baptism in it.”

“Oh! I do not say that baptism is _expressly named_ in it; but, sir, the

_inference_ is irresistible, that these children were brought _to be

baptized_, and that the people were accustomed to bring their children

for that purpose, and that Jesus commanded his disciples _never to

forbid it_, as you, Baptists, have done, but to suffer the little

children to come to him, and make a part of his visible church.”

“Is it possible! Pardon me, Mr. Johnson, if I say, that to my mind there

can be no inference about the object or purpose for which these children

were brought, because _it is expressly and very definitely stated in the

text_. They brought them, that he should _lay his hands on them, and

pray_. This was all they came for, and this was all he did. He did not

baptize them. He did not command them to be baptized. He merely (verse

15th) ‘laid his hands on them, and departed.’ But there is an

irresistible inference that I draw from this text, and that is, that

_the disciples had never been accustomed to infant baptism_. If they had

been in the habit of _baptizing_ children, they could never have

objected to their coming to _be blessed_ by Jesus. They would have

regarded it as a thing of course. But if they had, like the Baptist

Churches, received _only adults_, and them only on repentance and

profession of faith, it was not at all strange that they should reprove

those who brought the little children, who could not believe And there

was a beautiful propriety in the lesson which Jesus taught them, viz.:

that though children were _not to be baptized_, and were not members of

his church, yet they were to be objects of _intense interest_ and deep

solicitude to his people. Though they were not to be baptized, _they

were to be prayed for_. Parents, therefore, ought to bring their little

children to Christ by _faith and prayer_, for that he has commanded, but

_not_ by baptism, for that he has forbidden, by requiring those who are

baptized first to believe.”

“But you cannot deny, Mr. Courtney, that by the kingdom of heaven, in

this passage, is meant the _visible church_, and that Jesus expressly

mentions children as members of it?”

“Indeed, Mr. Johnson, he mentions no such thing. It does not matter at

all whether the kingdom of heaven means the church visible or invisible.

He does _not_ say that children are members of it, but that _its members

are like children_. He does _not_ say his church is composed of

children, but of _such_ as are _like_ children. For in the corresponding

passage in Luke and Mark, he goes right on, and explains by saying,

‘Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, shall

in no case enter therein.’ Mr. Barnes, in his Notes on this text, says:

‘Of such as these—that is, of persons with such tempers as these—is the

church to be composed. He does not say _of those infants_, but of such

as resembled them, or were like them in temper, was the kingdom of

heaven made up. It was proper, therefore, that he should pray for

them.’—_Notes, in loc._ Olshausen, of whose Commentary, Kitto, a brother

Pedobaptist of his and yours, declares that it is, on the New Testament,

the best now in existence—Olshausen says on this text: ‘For entering

into the kingdom of God, there is enjoined that child-like feeling which

enables us most easily to discern the gifts which have been bestowed

upon each, and, consequently, puts us in circumstances to fulfill our

calling.’ He goes on to say: ‘Of that reference to infant baptism, which

it is so common to seek for in this passage, there is clearly _not the

slightest trace to be found_.’ And Bishop Taylor, another eminent

Pedobaptist, says, in substance, that ‘to rely upon this text as proof

of infant baptism, proves nothing so much as the want of a better

argument.’”

“I think, Mr. Johnson,” said Professor Jones, “that we had better, for

the present at least, let this passage stand aside. It certainly gives

no _direct_ testimony in our favor, and even the inferential is somewhat

doubtful. We can afford to let it go, as you know we have many others,

about the meaning of which there can be no question. Let us take this,

for instance, Acts xi. 38, 39: ‘Repent and be baptized, every one of

you, in the name of Jesus Christ, for the remission of sins. And ye

shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost, for the promise is unto you

_and to your children_, and to all that are afar off, even as many as

the Lord our God shall call.’ Here, most undoubtedly, the parents and

children are both included, and that so expressly and plainly, as to

leave no room for even the shadow of a doubt.”

“That is, indeed,” replied Mr. Johnson, “one of the strongest passages,

if it be not the very strongest that we have.”

“And yet,” said Mr. Courtney, “it has not, in fact, the very _slightest

value_ in favor of your faith or practice, but, on the contrary,

furnishes at least a very strong _inference_ against them; for if infant

baptism was either recognized or practiced, it is incredible that Peter

should not have said, ‘Be baptized,’ not only ‘every one of you,’ but

you and your children. All that is said of baptism, is only to those who

are commanded to repent. Those who are commanded to be baptized, are

_first_ commanded to _repent_; and none are to be baptized but those who

_have repented_—not the penitents _and their children_.”

“True, Mr. Courtney; but you forget the last part of the text: ‘the

promise is to you and your children.’”

“The promise of what? Mr. Johnson. What promise is Peter speaking of?

Evidently that in the Prophet Joel: ‘It shall come to pass in the last

days I will pour out my Spirit,’ etc. On the faith of this promise,

Peter says: ‘Repent and be baptized, every one of you, and you shall

receive the Holy Ghost. For this promise (that is, of the Holy Ghost,)

is unto you and to your children, and to all that are afar off’ etc. It

was no promise of baptism, but the promise of something that should

_follow_ their repentance and baptism. But even if the promise _did_

refer to baptism, the subjects of it were not _infants_, for its

application is expressly limited to those who can be _called_ into the

repentance and faith of the Gospel: ‘Even as many as the Lord our God

_shall call_,’ (and no more). Does God call little unconscious infants?

If not, then they are not the persons spoken of.”

“What, then, do you think is the meaning of the word children?”

“Simply their descendants. In the next chapter, Peter says to these same

people, who were all grown men and women: ‘_Ye_ are the _children_ of

the prophets.’ And nothing is more common in the Scriptures than to

speak of the Jewish nation as children of Israel. They were not a nation

of babies, nevertheless.

“But even granting, for the sake of argument, that it was _little_

children—infants—that were spoken of, then if they were to be _baptized_

without repentance and faith in Christ, so also are all the aliens and

idolators among the Gentiles, for they are included in the term ‘all

that are afar off.’ And there is the same authority to baptize these as

the children. They are equally included in the ‘promise:’ ‘You and your

children, _and all that are afar off_’ Unless you will admit the promise

thus to embrace ‘all the world, and the rest of mankind,’ you must limit

it, as Peter did, by confining it to those ‘of you,’ and of ‘your

children,’ and of the Gentiles _whom the Lord our God shall call_. If,

therefore, this is the strongest, or one of the strongest passages you

have, your case is a desperate one indeed. The text contains a command

and a promise. It commands men _first_ to _repent_, and then to be

baptized—just as Jesus commands them _first_ to _believe_, and then to

be baptized. And, of course, unless unconscious infants can repent and

believe, they cannot be baptized. Then it promises the ‘gift of the Holy

Ghost’ to those who _have_ thus _repented_ and _been baptized_: for

Peter makes this the condition of their receiving it: ‘Repent and be

baptized, and ye shall receive the gift.’ And as _they_ might receive

the _gift_ of the Spirit on these terms, viz.: baptism and repentance,

so might their _descendants_, and so might even the idolatrous

_Gentiles_, who were now afar off—even as many of them as the Lord our

God should call.”

“That is indeed entirely satisfactory,” said Professor Jones, “and I am

only surprised that I did not see it in that light before. But the truth

is, because I saw _baptized_ in one part of the passage, and children in

another part, I took it for granted (since it was one of the proof-texts

quoted in our confession of faith) that it was the _children_ who were

to be baptized. I see now that it was only those who repented; and I am

ready candidly to acknowledge that there is no authority for infant

baptism in _this_ text, but there are surely many others.”

“Oh, yes,” said Mr. Courtney, “you know ‘the New Testament _abounds_

with proof of infant baptism.’ And if you will turn to 1st Cor. vii. 14,

you will find one which has been relied upon even more confidently than

the one we have just disposed of: ‘For the unbelieving husband is

sanctified by the wife, and the unbelieving wife is sanctified by the

husband; else were your children unclean, but now are they holy.’”

“Well, I should like to see how you will set aside a passage so plain

and appropriate as that is,” said Mr. Johnson.

“I simply say,” rejoined Mr. Courtney, “that there is not _one word_ in

it about baptism, either of infants or adults. It has not only no

mention of baptism, but not even the most distant _allusion_ to it,

direct or indirect.”

“Why, sir, does it not say that the children of but one believing parent

are _holy_? and if they are _holy_, are they not fit subjects for

baptism?”

“You know,” replied Mr. Courtney, “that the words _holy_ and

_sanctified_, among the Jews, were used in a physical or ceremonial

sense, as well as in a moral sense. If the Apostle used them here in a

_moral_ sense, he stated what _was not true_, for in this sense the

infidel husband or the infidel wife _was not made holy_ by the other’s

faith. The faith of the husband did not make a _saint_ of his wife, nor

did the faith of the wife make a _saint_ of her idolatrous husband. They

might have been, and doubtless often were more sinful afterward than

before the other party was converted. Nor does the faith of _both

parents combined render their children holy_, in this sense of the word:

for you know and every other man knows, that the children of believers

_grow up in sin, and need to be converted_, just as much as the children

of unbelievers; and without such conversion, will just as surely be lost

as the children of the vilest. Did David’s faith take the incestuous

Ammon and murderous Absalom to heaven? You and your wives are both

believers: are _your_ children, in this sense, holier than other

children? Do you not daily pray for God’s converting grace to _make_

them holy? It is evident, therefore, that the words sanctified and holy

(which are equivalent terms) must here be understood in their other

sense. The expression is indeed one of those _Hebraisms_ in which Paul

abounds. Its real meaning is very clearly stated by one of your best

Presbyterian Commentators, Dr. McKnight—for more than twenty years the

Moderator of the Presbyterian General Assembly of Scotland:

“‘I think, therefore,’ says he, ‘with Elsner, that the words in this

verse have neither a federal nor a moral meaning, but are used in the

idiom of the Hebrews, who by _sanctified_ understood what was fitted for

a particular use, and by _unclean_ what was unfit for use, and therefore

was to be cast away. In that sense the Apostle, speaking of _meat_,

says, 1 Tim. iv. 5, _It is sanctified_ (that is, fitted for your use)

_by the Word of God and prayer_. Ver. iv. _Every creature of God_ (fit

for food) is _good, and nothing_ fit for food is _to be cast away_ as

unclean. The terms of the verses, thus understood, have a _rational_

meaning, namely, that when infidels are married to Christians, if they

have a strong affection for their Christian spouses, they are thereby

_sanctified_ to them—they are fitted to continue married to them;

because their affection to the Christian party will insure to that party

the faithful performance of every duty; and that if the marriages of

Christians and infidels were dissolved, they would cast away their

children as _unclean_—that is, by losing their affection for them, they

would expose them, after the barbarous custom of the Greeks, or at least

neglect their education; but by continuing their marriages, their

children are _holy_; they are preserved as sacred pledges of their

mutual love and educated with care.’

“Hence he thus paraphrases the text:—‘For the infidel husband is

sanctified—is fitted to remain married to the believing wife by his

affection for her; and the infidel wife is sanctified to the believing

husband by her affection for him; otherwise certainly your children

would be by you neglected as unclean, whereas indeed they are clean;

they are the objects of your affection and care.’”

“I do not know,” said Mr. Johnson, “that we are bound to admit Dr.

McKnight’s exposition of this passage merely because he was a

Presbyterian.”

“Certainly not; but one would naturally suppose that if there were any

infant baptism in the passage, a learned and eminent Presbyterian Doctor

of Divinity would be the man to find it. Perhaps _you_ can show it to be

there, though _he_ could not.”

“I do not say, Mr. Courtney, that infant baptism is _commanded_ in this

passage, but only that it is _recognized_. These children were not

_morally_ holy—that is self-evident. Yet they are called (‘_agia_’)

holy, by the same term which is sometimes used to designate the

_saints_; that is, the members of the church. Therefore, they must have

been church members; and as none were church members but those who had

been _baptized_, it follows that they must have been baptized. That is

what I call a demonstration.”

“And if it be so,” replied Mr. Courtney, “then the infidel wife and the

infidel husband had also been baptized, and were members of the church,

for they are called (_hagiarai_) ‘sanctified,’ the same term which in

this epistle (1st chapter and 2d verse) is applied to the members of the

church: ‘To them that are _sanctified_ in Jesus Christ, called to be

saints,’ etc. And again, in the 6th chapter and 11th verse, ‘But ye are

washed, ye are _sanctified_; but ye are justified in Christ,’ etc. These

_sanctified_ ones called to be saints, and these _sanctified_ ones who

were washed and justified in Christ, were, most undoubtedly, members of

the Corinthian Church. It was as such that Paul addressed them; and as

the same term (_sanctified_) is applied to the infidel and idolatrous

husband and wife who had a believing companion, it follows, of course,

that, infidel and idolatrous as they were, they _must_ have been members

of the church; and as none are church members but those who have been

baptized, they must certainly have been baptized. That is what _I call_,

not a demonstration, but a palpable absurdity; yet it stands _precisely_

upon the same ground with your demonstration.”

“We must give it up, Mr. Johnson,” said the Professor, “at least so far

as this text is concerned, for if it proves any thing, it proves _too

much_. It will be better for us to give up the children than to take the

unbelieving and idolatrous adults. If we ground our practice of

baptizing infants on _this passage_, we must baptize the unbelieving

_wife_ on the faith of her husband, and the unbelieving husband on the

faith of his wife, as well as their children on the faith of either.

This we have never done, and would not dare to do, so we must look for

some other passage to sustain our views.”

“Not quite yet,” said Mr. Courtney, smiling; “I have wrested this weapon

out of your hands, and I will now turn it against you.

“I will prove, _by this very passage_, that there was no such thing as

infant baptism known in the Corinthian Church, or in the mind of Paul,

when he was writing to them; but that, on the contrary, the Corinthian,

and, of course, all the other churches of that day, were _Baptist

Churches_, in which neither the _children_, nor the unbelieving

companions of believers, were baptized, or in any sense regarded as

church members. If the unbelieving husband or wife had been baptized and

made a member of the church, the question to which the Apostle is

evidently replying could never have been asked. The Jews, as we learn

from Ezra x. 3, were not permitted to continue in the marriage relation

with their Gentile wives. Now the question had come up in the Corinthian

Church whether a _Christian_ should not, under a similar regulation,

separate from an unbelieving and idolatrous companion. But if such

unbelieving consorts were by _the other’s faith entitled to church

membership_, and had, consequently, been baptized, such a thing as

separation on this ground would never have been thought of. It is

evident, therefore, that the infidel husband or the infidel wife were

not baptized or made church members. There is in the Scriptures not the

slightest allusion to any such church _members_ made by the faith of

_others_, and not by their own. These persons were, therefore, in every

sense, outsiders. They had no more connection with the church than any

other heathens had. But the Apostle says to their Christian companions,

You have no more reason to discard them on this account than church

members have to discard _their children_, for they are also unbelievers,

and without the pale of the church. The unbelieving husband and the

unbelieving wife, and your children, not their children, stand in the

same category. They are all without the church—all unbaptized—and thus

far, all equally unfit associates. But as your children, though not in

the church, are _holy to you_—that is, fit to associate with, so is the

unbelieving husband or the unbelieving wife, although they are also out

of the church.

“That this is the sense in which the Apostle uses the terms sanctified,

and holy, and unclean, is evident from the fact, that this is the _only_

sense in which what he says of the parties can be _true_, and this sense

corresponds perfectly with the common Scripture usage of the words.

Those things and persons among the Jews were called _unclean_ which a

holy person might not lawfully touch, use, or associate with. It seems,

from Gal. ii. 12, that they considered it very criminal to associate or

eat with Gentiles. Peter, it seems, had the opinion that only certain

_food_ was fit to eat, and that all other was unclean. And he said:

‘Lord, nothing common or unclean hath at any time entered into my

mouth.’ And Paul, 2 Cor. vi. 17, says, quoting from Isaiah: ‘Come out

from among them, and be ye separate, and touch not the unclean thing,’

or, more properly, ‘touch no _unclean_ person,’ ‘and I will receive

you,’ etc. Things unfit for holy persons to use were, Therefore, to them

said to be _unclean_. Food which such persons might not eat, was called

unclean food. And persons which they might not associate with, were

called unclean persons. In this sense, therefore, neither the

unbelieving children, nor the unbelieving husband, nor the unbelieving

wife, were to be regarded as unclean. They were all equally

sanctified—fit for the companionship and affection of their believing

parents and consorts.”

“That is all plain enough, Mr. Courtney; but I do not see what it has to

do with infant baptism.”

“Simply this. The infidel consorts of believers were not church

members—they had not been baptized. When Paul was asked by the church,

if the believing husbands and wives must separate from such, he says no;

it is as lawful for them to live together as it is for _you_ to live

with _your children_. But your children are _holy_ [fit associates] to

you, and so their companions are _sanctified_ [fit associates] to

_them_. Now there was no force or propriety in the comparison, unless

the children were in circumstances similar to the unbelieving

consorts—that is, they must _all_ have been alike out of the church, and

_all unbaptized_; and if the children of believing parents were

unbaptized, it was a Baptist Church; and if the church at Corinth was a

Baptist Church, then all the churches planted by the apostles were

Baptist Churches.”

“I do not feel inclined to grant all that,” said Mr. Johnson, “but we

have wasted too much time on this text already; let us proceed. But I

see it is of no use to argue with you, for you are disposed to construe

every passage so differently from what we have been accustomed to

consider their true meaning, that the most conclusive texts have no

weight with you whatever.”

“But pardon me, Mr. Johnson; do I not construe them according to the

natural and necessary meaning of the language? I appeal to Professor

Jones to say if I have shown any disposition to present any other than

the straightforward and obvious sense of the passages which we have

examined.”

“I begin to think,” rejoined the pastor, “that my brother Jones is

himself more than half a Baptist, which accounts for his being so easily

convinced.”

“Not at all, Mr. Johnson. I was very desirous to find infant baptism in

the Scriptures; I confidently believed it was there; I expected we could

have pointed to it without the slightest difficulty; but I acknowledge

that I can’t see the slightest trace of it in these proof texts which

our church has been so accustomed to rely upon. But though we have no

_command_ to practice it, we have authority which is quite equivalent,

and that is the _practice_ of the Apostles.”

“Certainly,” said Mr. Johnson, “I did not expect to find any such

absolute command as could not be explained away. It is chiefly on the

examples that we rely.”

“I hope, Mr. Johnson, you will do me the justice to acknowledge that I

have not explained away any command to baptize infants. I am sure I

would not willingly even attempt to explain away any command of Jesus

Christ, or his Apostles, on this or any other subject. I asked you to

show me a command to _baptize infants_, and you pointed to the

commission as a command to baptize those who are the _believing_

disciples of Jesus. You pointed, then, to an incidental command, to let

the children come to Christ, that he might lay his hands on them and

bless them. But as the children were not in the other command, so the

baptism was not in this. It was not for baptism, but for quite another

purpose that he bade them to come. You pointed then to a command and

promise given through Peter, but the command was _Repent_, and _then_ be

baptized, which, of course, excluded infants. And the promise was not a

promise of _baptism_, but of the gift of the Holy Ghost to those whom

_God should call_ to repentance, faith, and baptism, which excluded

infants from the promise as well as the command. You then pointed to the

place which we have last examined, which certainly contains not even the

shadow of a command to baptize infants; and so far as it teaches any

thing upon the subject, teaches that they were no more to be baptized on

the faith of their parents than unbelieving husbands are upon the faith

of their wives. You have not found the commandment, because it is not

there; I do not like to discourage you, but I assure you, you cannot

find the _example_ for the very same reason. This has been conceded,

over and over again, by the most learned and most zealous advocates of

infant baptism. They rest it on different grounds.

“Dr. Wall, the most eminent of them all, distinctly declares: ‘Among all

the persons that are recorded as baptized by the Apostles, there is no

express mention of any infants.’

“Bishop Burnet says: ‘There is no express precept or rule given in the

New Testament for the baptism of infants.’

“Richard Baxter says: ‘I conclude that all the examples of baptism in

the Scripture do mention only the administration of it to the professors

of saving faith; and the precepts give no other direction.’

“Martin Luther, the great reformer, says: ‘It cannot be proved that

infant baptism was instituted by Christ, or by the first Christians

after the Apostles.’

“Erasmus, another of the Reformers, says in his Notes on Rom. vi. 14:

‘The Apostle does not seem to treat of infants. It was not the custom

for infants to be baptized.’

“Olshansen, the famous Pedobaptist commentator, says: ‘There is

altogether wanting any conclusive proof passage for the baptism of

children in the age of the Apostles, nor can the necessity of it be

deduced from the nature of baptism.’

“Limbroch, another distinguished Pedobaptist professor of theology, and

the author of a ‘System of Divinity,’ says: ‘There is no express command

for it in the Scriptures. Nay, all those passages wherein baptism is

commanded, do immediately relate to _adult_ persons, since they are

ordered to be instructed, and faith is a prerequisite as a necessary

qualification.’ And again: ‘The necessity of infant baptism was never

asserted on any council before that of Carthage, held A. D. 418. We own

that there is no precept, nor undoubted instance in Scripture of infant

baptism.’

“Dr. Hanna, editor of the North British Review, says: ‘The baptismal

service [of the English church] is founded upon Scripture, but its

application to unconscious infants is destitute of any express

Scriptural warrant. Scripture knows nothing of the baptism of infants.’

“Dr. Knapp says: ‘There is no decisive example of infant baptism in the

Scriptures.’

“Neander, the great Pedobaptist historian, says: ‘It is certain that

Christ did not ordain infant baptism.’

“Even your Presbyterian Doctor Miller, of Princeton Theological

Seminary, says: ‘The fact is, that during the whole threescore years

after the ascension of Christ, which is embraced in the New Testament

history, we have no hint of the baptism of infants born of Christian

parents.’

“So says your able defender, Professor Moses Stuart: ‘Commands, or plain

and certain examples relative to it in the New Testament, I do not

find.’

“So says also your other celebrated writer on this subject, Dr. Leonard

Woods: ‘The New Testament is silent respecting the subject of infant

baptism.’ ‘It is evident that infant baptism is not introduced as a

subject of particular discussion. It is neither explicitly enjoined or

prohibited, and neither is the practice of baptizing children, nor the

absence of it, expressly mentioned.”’

“I declare, Mr. Courtney,” said the Professor, “this is very

discouraging. If such men as these, all of whom are on our side of this

controversy, and all members of churches that are in the habit of

baptizing infants—most, if not all of whom, received their own baptism

in infancy—many of whom were eminent ministers, and in the habit

themselves of baptizing infants—and some of the most eminent of whom

were _authors_, who, like Stuart, and Miller, and Wood, wrote expressly

upon this subject—if such men cannot find the ‘command,’ or the

‘example,’ it seems hardly worth while for _us_ to look for it.”

“I do not know,” said Mr. Johnson, “what they considered a plain

command, or an undoubted example, but I conceive that these statements

which Mr. Courtney has quoted so glibly, were (to say the least) very

‘_unguarded expressions_,’ which were by no means justified from the

facts in the case. I grant that there is no express _command_, but there

are many examples, with, if not plain enough to satisfy _Baptists_, are

such as will satisfy any candid inquirer after the truth.”

“I only ask you, gentlemen,” said Mr. Courtney, “to show me one which

you will YOURSELVES _say is an undoubted case_, after we have examined

the testimony. I only ask you to show me one which your own theological

writers and teachers will agree upon as an undoubted case—or one which

they will all agree upon as even a _probable_ case. I do not wish to

dissuade you from the attempt, but you could not find _one single

solitary instance_ if your very lives depended on the effort.”

“Certainly, Mr. Courtney,” said the pastor, “you are speaking without

due reflection, for you must know perfectly well that such examples are

as numerous as the household baptisms recorded in the Acts or referred

to in the Epistles.”

“Not at all,” said Mr. Courtney. “I understand what I am saying, and I

desire to be distinctly understood to mean that as there is not (as we

have already seen) any _command_, so neither is there a solitary

_example_, either among the _‘households’ or any where else_, in which

baptism was administered either to an infant or to any one else who did

not first profess faith or repentance. From the first of Matthew to the

end of Revelations, you may examine every passage in which baptism is

mentioned or alluded to, and you not only will find no infant plainly

spoken of as baptized, but you will not find so much as an allusion to

any such a class as the ‘Baptized children of the church.’”

“Surely,” replied Professor Jones, “you must be mistaken in this. I am

sure I have always thought that there was no more doubt about the

Scriptures teaching infant baptism, than about their teaching the

divinity of Jesus Christ. I am certain it must be somewhere in the

Scriptures.”

“Many people are certain that things are in the Scriptures that neither

they nor any body else can find there,” said Mr. Courtney. “Your Doctors

of Divinity have told you it was there, and you took it for granted that

they told you the truth. But if it is there, _you_ can find it and

_show_ it to me. And ever afterward you will know how to _give a reason_

for the faith that is in you on this subject.”

“But Mr. Courtney, we have not time to read over the whole Bible

to-night, to see if there is not some case mentioned; and if we do not,

we may overlook some case.”

“That is not necessary. Your Doctors of Divinity have done it for you;

and if they have found any case that had even the remotest squinting

toward infant baptism, they have paraded it before the world. Your

pastor here is doubtless perfectly familiar with every case that has the

slightest bearing upon the subject, and which presents even the shadow

of a proof in favor of the practice of your churches. But if you doubt

his information, or if he is unwilling to trust to his memory in the

case, suppose you take a Concordance, and refer to _every place_ where

baptism is mentioned. Here is Butterworth’s Concordance. It will

doubtless mention every place where the words occur; and we can thus

test the matter at once.”

“Certainly,” said the pastor. “I greatly prefer that to a reliance upon

my own memory; for though I can without any hesitation refer you to

several examples, as in the cases of Lydia, and the jailer, and

Stephanus, and Cornelius; yet as I might forget some place, I would

leave our defence less perfect than I desire.”

“We will then work by the Concordance, and will come to each of those

cases in their proper order,” said the Professor.

“Very good,” said the schoolmaster. “Now what is the first place?”

“It is,” said the pastor, “Matthew iii. 7—‘John saw many of the

Pharisees and Sadducees come to his baptism.’ We must admit there were

no infants there, but then you know we do not consider John’s baptism to

be Christian baptism, which was not practiced till after the death of

Christ; and so it does not matter who John baptized, or what class of

persons were baptized before the ascension of the Saviour, as it was

only then that _Christian_ baptism, properly so-called, began to be

administered. I am willing to grant, therefore, that there was no

mention made of the baptism of any infant until after that time.”

“That will,” said Mr. Courtney, “save us considerable trouble—but it

will deprive me of the advantage of at least one very convincing

argument against any inference for infant baptism. I think I could

easily prove to you that not only John’s baptism, but Christ’s baptism

(I mean that which is _called his_, though John says Jesus himself

baptized not, but his disciples), was just the same baptism which _He_

commanded after his death—and that since John required repentance and

works meet for repentance as preliminary to _his_ baptism, and Christ is

expressly said to have first _made disciples of_ those whom _he

baptized_ (John iv. 1), unconscious infants were of necessity excluded,

and would be, as a matter of course, _considered as excluded_ until an

express command was given to include them. But we will pass it by, and

the first case of baptism that comes up after the commission had, in

your view, fully established the Christian ordinance, was that on the

day of Pentecost, Acts 2d chapter. Suppose, Mr. Johnson, you just turn

to the chapter, and see if you can find any thing about infants there.”

“Oh, no. We do not pretend,” said the pastor, “that those three thousand

were any of them infants, or even children. There were evidently none

among them who could not understand the preaching of Peter and the rest,

for they _gladly_ received his word (41st verse) before they were

baptized, and continued steadfastly in the Apostles’ doctrine and

fellowship afterward. They were all adults, and we must admit also that

they were all professed believers.”

“Very well,” said Mr. Courtney; “then we will go on to the next case;

but I cannot help remarking by the way that it is _very extraordinary_

if they ever baptized infants in those days—if they were considered as

included in the commission. I say it is _very remarkable_ that all these

three thousand should have been old bachelors or old maids, or, to say

the least, all unmarried, or if married, all childless. Yet such must

have been the case, for not a word is said about the _duty_ of bringing

their children for baptism—nor among them all was there a single one who

brought his little ones that they might be baptized at the same time

with his parent. I have been present several times when a number of

persons joined _your_ society, and there were always among them more or

less who brought their children with them. I do not suppose that you

ever recorded in your church the baptism of twenty adults, but that they

brought some children with them, yet you pretend that the Apostles

practiced infant baptism as you do, and still admit that here are three

thousand adults and not a single child—but go on to your next case.”

“It is,” said the pastor, who glanced at the Concordance, Acts viii. 12:

“‘But when they (the people of Samaria) believed Philip preaching the

things concerning the kingdom of God, and the name of Jesus Christ, they

were baptized.’”

“It seems, then,” said Mr. C., “that these were adults too; for they

were able to hear preaching, and exercise faith. They believed the

preaching before they were baptized, and none were baptized who did not

first believe. But you did not read all the verse: does it not go on to

say, that they were baptized, both the men, the women, _and their

children_?”

“No,” said Mr. Johnson, with a very perceptible degree of petulance in

his tone, “it only says, ‘both men and women.’”

“So then, here is another case, where a large company of men and women

were baptized, not one of whom were heads of families. It is _very

remarkable_, for if the Apostles taught and practiced infant baptism,

Philip had doubtless instructed them that ‘_it was their duty and their

privilege_’ to bring their infant children into the kingdom with

themselves. This is what _you_ teach, and this is what _your converts_

do. If Philip taught as you do, his converts were a ‘peculiar people’

truly. But let us pass on to the next case, which was that of Simon the

magician, in the next verse; but as you won’t imagine any infant baptism

there, we may pass to the next.”

“That was,” said the pastor, “the case of the Ethiopian Eunuch (Acts

viii. 13); and the next that of Saul (Acts ix. 18); and the next that of

Cornelius and his friends, which I have sometimes considered as a case

of household baptism, but on examination I do not see that there is any

mention of infants (Acts x. 47).”

“Please read it, Mr. Johnson,” said Professor Jones. “I have, I am sure,

always looked upon this as one of the proof passages.”

“I had such an impression myself,” said the pastor, “but I see it cannot

be relied upon. ‘Can any man forbid water that these should not be

baptized _who have received the Holy Ghost as well as we_? And he

commanded them to be baptized.’ Now it is true that Cornelius had a

_family_, and he had called together his kinsmen and near friends; and

it seems _most likely_ that there would have been among them some

children, but still it does not seem absolutely certain. It is, I should

say, a _probable_ case, but I do not present it as a certain one.”

“How _can_ you, Mr. Johnson, I was ready to say how _dare_ you, as a

minister of the Gospel of truth, even pretend that there is any _doubt_

about the case at all? Could little infants in their mothers’ arms

‘receive the Holy Ghost,’ and ‘speak with tongues,’ and ‘magnify God,’

as these are said to have done in the 44th and 46th verses! The

_persons_, and the _only_ persons, who were commanded to be baptized,

were those who spake with tongues and magnified God. And it was on this

evidence, and only on this evidence, that ‘God had granted repentance

unto the Gentiles,’ that they were admitted to baptism at all. He who

could see a probable infant baptism in this, might see it just as well,

it seems to me, in the baptism of the three thousand who received the

word with gladness, on the day of Pentecost; or the five thousand who

received it a few days after; or in the case of the Samaritans, who

believed in the Gospel preached by Philip. If _they_ heard, repented,

and believed, _these_ did all that and more, for they received the

miraculous influences of the Holy Ghost _before_ their baptism; whereas

the others received them _after_ it, when they received them at all.

These did all that those did, and moreover spake with tongues, and

‘magnified God,’ and yet _you talk about their being unconscious

infants_.”

“Oh, well,” said the pastor, “you have no need to become so eloquently

indignant. I said I was willing to pass by this case. I will admit that

it is not even a _probable_ instance, if that will satisfy you. We shall

find certain ones enough, so we can afford to be liberal in this. You

will not be able, I trust, to dispose so easily of the next, which is

the baptism of Lydia, Acts xvi. 15—‘And of _her household_;’ which, as a

matter of course, would have some children in it.”

“I do not see how Lydia’s household should necessarily have children in

it. I am acquainted with several households in this town that have no

infants in them. You have none in yours. You have children, but none too

young to repent and believe, make credible profession of their faith,

and lead a Christian life; and if you should all be convinced, in the

revival which I believe God is now beginning to send upon our little

Baptist church, that you have never been baptized—and should all give us

satisfactory evidence of true piety—we would gladly do for you just what

Paul did for Lydia. We would baptize _you and your household_; but you

would not insist that we had baptized any unconscious babe.”

“But, Mr. Courtney, you must admit the principle that the ‘household was

baptized on the faith of its head.’ Lydia _believed_, and she _and her

household_ were baptized. Now, whether they were large or small, they

must have been baptized on their mother’s faith.”

“No, Mr. Johnson; it is that principle which I especially condemn and

deny. What I say is this—No one under the Gospel is to be baptized, or

to be regarded as in _any sense_ a member of Christ’s church, or to

enjoy any of the privileges of that church, _who has not first repented

and believed for himself_, and in his own proper person: and if you will

_show_ me _any case_ where any one, either old or young, male or female,

bond or free, adult or infant, was by the Apostles baptized, who had not

first given evidence of his repentance, faith, and conversion, then I

admit you have gained your point. I grant that Simon Magus was baptized

while yet unconverted but not before he _professed to be_, and gave such

evidence as was satisfactory at the time. For Luke says Simon also

_believed_ and was baptized. Now Lydia was baptized and her household

was baptized; but there is no evidence that her household were children.

There is no proof even that she was married, or ever had been. She may

or may not have had a husband; she may or may not have had children; she

may have been a widow, or she may have been an old maid. The record says

not a word on these points. It only says that her name was Lydia—that

she came from a distant city, called Thyatira—that she was engaged in

the business of selling purple, which we know, from other sources, was a

very respectable and profitable employment. We learn, also, that she was

keeping house, and living in such a comfortable way that she could

afford to give the Apostle and his companions a home at her house during

their stay. It appears also that she had a family (_oikos_), but whether

they were children or servants, or both, is not declared; but _one_

thing is certain, whether they were her offspring or servants, they were

_grown men_, for in the end of this same chapter (verse 40) we read that

as soon as Paul and Silas were liberated they _returned to the house of

Lydia and saw the brethren and comforted them_. They were therefore men,

who could be comforted, and not little children. They were also

believers, for otherwise they would not be called brethren.

“Hence the celebrated commentator, Dr. Adam Clarke, very properly

remarks: ‘_She attended unto the things._’ ‘She believed them and

received them as the doctrines of God, and in this faith she was joined

by her whole family, and in it they were all baptized.’ And again—‘The

first members of the church of Christ, at this place, were Lydia and her

family, and the next in all probability were the jailer and his family.’

“So far, therefore, from being certain or even probable that the

household of Lydia were infants, it is placed past all doubt by the

Scripture itself, that they were _men and brethren_, who believed and

were baptized; for though their _faith_ is not specially mentioned, yet

it is necessarily implied by the calling of them brethren.”

“But is it certain, Mr. Courtney, that these _brethren_ were the same

who composed Lydia’s family? Might they not have come in there merely to

meet the Apostle?”

“No, Mr. Johnson; Lydia and her family were the _only_ converts until

the Apostle was arrested and thrown into prison. While there, the jailer

and his family were converted, and these two families were all the

followers of Christ—_all the brethren_ that were in the place. But those

at the jailer’s house Paul and Silas had just left, when they came to

Lydia’s house, and saw and comforted the brethren there.”

“I think, Mr. Johnson,” said Professor Jones, “that we may as well let

this case go. We can afford to do it, as we have so many others. And it

evidently, so far from aiding us, testifies directly against us. The

same difficulties cannot exist in that of the jailer and his family,

recorded in the same chapter. I have always heard that referred to as a

most undoubted example.”

“Yes,” said the pastor. “The jailer was a man in the prime of life, as

is evident from the impulsive character of his behavior. He drew his

sword, called for a light, and he _sprang_ in, which indicates that he

was a man of activity and energy. Now such a man would be almost

certain, if he had a family at all, to have among them some little

children. I consider, therefore, that this is an unquestionable case.

The evidence amounts almost to an absolute demonstration.”

“It is a great pity,” said Mr. Courtney, “to spoil such a beautiful and

perfect demonstration; and if we had time, I would spare it for a few

minutes, that we might at our leisure admire its beauty and its

ingenuity. But as we probably have several other places to examine, we

cannot afford to trifle over this. You read, in verse 33, that ‘he was

baptized, he _and all his_, straightway.’ Now you say that ‘all his’

must include one or more infants. I only reply, that if so, they were

infants who could _hear_ the preaching of the gospel, and could

_believe_ it and _rejoice_ in God. For, verse 32, Paul _preached_ to him

and _all his_. And, in verse 34, he rejoiced, believing in God, _with

all his house_. Now, there is not in the record the slightest intimation

that there was a child on the premises. There was a _family_, but

whether of adults or children, servants or relations, is not said; but

it _is_ said, that they all _heard_ the Word, all _believed_, and all

_rejoiced_, just as certainly as they were all _baptized_. There is the

same testimony of the hearing, believing, and rejoicing as of the

baptism. The Baptists will baptize all the children in town, if they

will come to them believing and rejoicing in God—not, however, on their

parents’ faith, but on their own. Your next case is in the 18th chapter,

is it not?”

“Yes,” said the pastor (glancing at the Concordance which he still held

in his hand), “and the 8th verse. ‘And Crispus, the chief ruler of the

synagogue, believed on the Lord, with all his house. And many of the

Corinthians hearing, believed, and were baptized.’”

“Does it not say that their children were baptized with them on the

faith of their parents?”

“I read the whole text,” replied the pastor, gruffly.

“Then you must consider it a _very_ remarkable text,” said Mr. Courtney,

“for it declares that among these _many_ Corinthians, there was not a

man or woman who had an unconverted child; for if there had been one, it

would, if Paul had taught as _you_ do, have been brought up for baptism.

These early Christians were strange people. There were three thousand of

them at one time, five thousand a few days after in Jerusalem, a great

multitude in Samaria, and many more here in Corinth—_all childless_; for

it is incredible that _if they had children_, and had been instructed

that ‘_it was their duty and their privilege_’ to have them baptized,

that _some_ of them would not have done it. Nay, all of them _must have_

done it, or have stood in open _disobedience_ to the requirements of the

Gospel. We read of their believing, of their rejoicing, of their

breaking of bread, of their assembling for worship, of their ministering

to the saints—but never a word of their bringing their little children

to be baptized. They evidently did not obey this command, if any such

command was given them. And there is never an intimation of any reproof

of such inexcusable disobedience.”

“I must say, Mr. Courtney,” rejoined the pastor, “that you are the most

unreasonable man I ever tried to argue with. I have given you, at least,

two plain and unquestionable instances in which the _families were

baptized with the parents_, and yet you say that out of these eight or

ten thousand converts, there is not _one_ who had his children baptized.

To use an expression of your own, I do not see how you can _dare_ thus

to trifle with the Word of God!”

“I know, Mr. Johnson, that you gave us cases where _families_ were

baptized, and you can give us more; but you have not shown that these

_families contained a single infant child_, and _that is the point on

which the whole argument turns_. I reply to you in the language of you

own Pedobaptist historian, the celebrated and acute Neander: ‘We cannot

prove that the Apostles ordained infant baptism, from those places where

the baptism of a whole family is mentioned, as in Acts xvi. 33; 1 Cor.

i. 16. We can draw no such conclusion, because the inquiry is still to

be made _whether they were in these families any children of such an age

that they were not capable of any intelligent reception of Christianity,

for this is the only point on which the case turns._’ Ch. Hist. p. 198.

“I might retort by saying that you are exceedingly unreasonable in your

mode of argumentation. You say that the Apostles baptized infants. I ask

you to _prove_ it. You reply by saying he baptized _families_. Now if

there _was never a family without infants_, your argument would be

complete. But your own family has no infants in it. It consists of two

grown sons, a daughter nearly grown, and a servant. My family has no

infants in it: it consists of myself, my wife, and my nephew, who

assists me in my school. The family of our friend Mrs. Ernest has no

infants in it. It consists of her daughter, Miss Theodosia, of her son

Edwin, and her old servant, Aunt Chloe. All of whom are old enough to

believe and rejoice in God, as the jailor’s family did. Should they all

determine to obey the commandment of Jesus Christ and be baptized

according to the Gospel order, you can say of her, as Luke does of the

jailor and of Lydia—She was baptized, and her household. You see,

therefore, that if you would make your argument worth a straw, you must

go one step further, and prove that there _was an infant_ in the

families. It will not do to say that it is _probable_ there was one. It

is just as probable that there is one in yours, or mine, or Mrs.

Ernest’s, yet you know there is none. You must, if you build an argument

on the infant as being there, first _prove that it was there_. If you

can’t do this, the judgment goes against you of course. I need not prove

that it was not there. The burden of proof rests on you. If you go into

court and claim property as the heir of a certain woman’s _child_, you

must prove that there was _such a child_. If you should prove no more

than that the woman was _married_ and kept house, and had been heard to

speak of _her family_, the court would laugh at you. That she was

married, kept house, and had a family, you would be told, was not the

slightest legal proof _that she had a child_. And this is the point on

which your whole claim rests. Peter had a family, though so far as we

are informed it consisted only of his wife and his wife’s mother. And so

Crispus, the chief ruler of the synagogue, had a family: who they were,

we do not know; whether children, grand-children, nephews, or servants.

His father and mother, and the father and mother of his wife; his own

brothers and sisters, or the brothers and sisters of his wife his clerks

or apprentices, if they had lodged in his house and eaten of his table,

would have been called—his family, _his house_; but whosoever they were,

they ‘_all believed on the Lord_,’ and so were not unconscious infants.”

“Have we not some other case, Mr. Johnson?” inquired the Professor.

“There is only one other,” replied the pastor, “and that is that of the

family of Stephanus, mentioned by Paul, 1 Cor. i. 16—‘I baptized also

the household of Stephanus.’”

“And that need not detain us long,” said Mr. Courtney, “for your own

Presbyterian Doctor of Divinity, McKnight, in his excellent Commentary,

says, ‘The family of Stephanus seem all to have been _adults_ when they

were baptized; for they are said, chap. xvi. 15, _to have devoted

themselves to the ministry of the saints_.’

“We have now examined _all_ your ‘examples,’ and the infants are not yet

discovered. Lydia’s family are called ‘brethren.’ The jailer’s family

are said ‘to believe and rejoice in God.’ That of Crispus ‘believed in

the Lord.’ And that of Stephanus ‘addicted themselves to the ministry of

the saints.’ And, Cor. xvi. 16, the church is directed to ‘submit itself

unto such.’ You have not only failed to prove that there were any

infants, but I have proved (though by the rules of debate I was under no

obligation to do so) that they were all adults, or at least old enough

to hear, believe, obey, and rejoice in the Gospel. I leave it now for

you to say yourselves, whether there is, in any of these instances, a

_single certain example_ of the baptism of an unconscious infant?”

Mr. Courtney paused, but neither of the others felt disposed to answer;

after waiting a moment, he continued:

“But I am not willing to pass so readily from these passages. You are

accustomed, Mr. Johnson, and so are all your ministers, to present these

as proof-texts for infant baptism. You will probably go and do it again,

though I pray that God may give you a better mind. They stand as

proof-texts in your ‘Confession of Faith,’ and yet, in truth, neither

they nor you _have ever believed them to be such_, or else you are more

inconsistent in your conduct than sensible men are often found to be.”

“Why, sir, what do you mean? Do you intend to insinuate, sir, that we

Presbyterian ministers teach as God’s truth what we do not believe?”

“I mean to say, Mr. Johnson, that you teach for God’s truth what you do

not practice—and you know a good man’s practice _ought_ to correspond to

his belief. You teach that the _families_ of believers are to be

baptized on the faith of the _head of the family_. Out of the thousands

and thousands of people who are recorded as having believed and been

baptized, you find three or four instances in which a whole family

believed, and were baptized at the same time, and they are mentioned as

a certain man and his family. Now you say if these three or four

_families_ were baptized, _all_ families of believers are entitled to

baptism. This is what your argument amounts to, if it has any force at

all. Now, in every one of these instances the _whole family_, every

member of it, is said to have been baptized.”

“Very well,” said Mr. Johnson, “so much the better for our cause—so much

the more likely that it included _the infants_.”

“It may be so much the better for your _cause_, but it is so much the

worse for your _consistency_. You teach that all the family were

included in these baptisms, but _you do not baptize all the family_. Are

not my wife and my nephew members of my family? but you would not on my

faith baptize either of them. Is not old Aunt Chloe a member of Mrs.

Ernest’s family? yet you never have baptized her, or urged on Mrs.

Ernest the duty of bringing her _servant_ as well as her children. Are

not children of ten or twelve, or fifteen or twenty years of age, as

much members of the _family_ as the baby is? If these passages prove

that _one_ member of the family may be baptized on the faith of the

head, they prove equally that every other member may be; and your only

consistent ground is that occupied by Mr. Barnes in his Notes on 1 Cor.

i. 16—‘Household (_oikon_). the house, the family. The word comprises

the whole family, including adults, domestics, slaves, and children.’ …

‘It was the custom doubtless for the Apostles to baptize the _entire

household, whatever might be the age, including domestics, slaves, and

children_. The head of a family gave up the _entire household_ to God.’

If you and Dr. Barnes _believe_ this, you ought to _practice_ it. If

Paul baptized all the children, and all the domestics, and all the

slaves, and all the other members of the family, of _whatever age_, you

ought to do it too. You are unworthy to have charge of a Christian

church, if you do not, at least, _attempt_ to do it. You ought to urge

upon your members the ‘duty and privilege’ of bringing their _slaves_,

where they have them—their men servants and their maidens—their

domestics, male or female, ‘_of whatever age_,’ and all their children,

whether infant or adult, to be baptized upon the faith of the head of

the family. Nor do I see how you could well omit the _wife_, for

although Dr. Barnes has not included her, she certainly belongs to the

_family_ as much as the ‘domestics.’ If they refuse to perform this

duty, which was thus enjoined, as you believe, by the Apostles, you can

not do less than call them to account for their neglect. If they will

still prove obstinate, you must exclude them as disobedient to one of

the ‘undoubted’ ordinances of the church of Christ. They are _certainly_

under as much obligation to bring _all_ as to bring the infants.”

“Yes,” said the pastor; “but where they have come to years of

discretion, we think it best to leave them to come themselves, as an act

of personal obedience.”

“But you have no _right_ to leave them, even if you do think best. Lydia

did not, according to your account of the matter, leave hers to come

when they pleased. The jailer did not leave his—he brought them all

_straightway_. If the head of the family is to have his _household_

baptized, on the authority of these examples, he is not at liberty to

leave them to come of themselves It is his bounden duty to exert all his

authority as husband, father, and master, to bring his whole family at

once to the baptismal basin; and it is your bounden duty, as a minister

of Christ, if you believe such things, to urge the subject upon their

attention. Call upon them for the immediate performance of their

obligations; and it is the duty of the church to deal with those who

neglect or refuse. But this you never have done. There are none of your

ministers who do it; and I venture to say that Mr. Barnes himself has

never done it. You never will do—you, none of you, dare to do it. Your

own consciences would recoil from the introduction, in this way, of

infidels, and blasphemers, and irreligious men and women, into the

church of Christ, on the faith of their father or master. As you would

be afraid to do it yourselves, you do not believe in your hearts that

the Apostles did it. It is altogether inconsistent with every thing we

know of their character, and the nature of the churches they

established; and it would therefore be fair to infer that these families

which were baptized were families of believers, even if they had not

been called brethren in the case of Lydia, or said to believe and

rejoice in God in the jailer’s—to speak with tongues and glorify God in

that of Cornelius—to believe in the Lord Jesus in that of Crispus, and

to give themselves to the Christian ministry in that of Stephanus.”

“I did not expect when we commenced,” replied Mr. Johnson, “to be able

to convince you of your errors in regard to this subject. I have often

observed that the more one reasons with a Baptist, the more firmly he

fixes him in his baptistical notions. I have, therefore, had no desire

for any such controversy as this. It was only to satisfy my friend and

brother, Professor Jones, that I engaged in it at all—and I must now beg

leave to decline any further argument upon the subject.”

“Pardon me, Mr. Johnson, if in the heat of debate I have made use of any

expression that has seemed improper, or in any degree disrespectful to

you. I did not intend to do so, and regret most sincerely if my feelings

have led me to overstep the bounds of gentlemanly discussion.”

“Oh, I do not,” resumed the pastor, “decline further disputation on that

ground; though I might, I think, fairly complain of some of your

expressions. I merely do not wish to continue a discussion which is not

likely to result in any good.”

“Permit me to suggest,” said Professor Jones, “that if we leave off here

we acknowledge ourselves to be completely routed, for it is certain that

we have not yet been able to produce a single undoubted precept or

example of infant baptism from the Scriptures. But since such men as

Woods, and Wall, and Stewart, and Coleman, and Neander, concede this,

and yet are the firm advocates of the baptism of infants, _there must be

some other ground_ on which it can be sustained.”

“That is true, sir,” replied the pastor. “And I have purposely reserved

our strongest argument for the last. But I am sure it will have no

influence on Mr. Courtney, nor any other Baptist.”

“But, Mr. Johnson, it may have some effect on me. And I hope you will do

us the favor to present it for my benefit.”

“We will not have time to-night,” replied the other, “and for the

present at least I am tired of the subject. Perhaps you will hear

something at church to-morrow that will satisfy your mind.” And with

this intimation the Rev. gentleman took his leave, and the parties

separated.

THE DAY AFTER THE SEVENTH NIGHT.

Theodosia is baptized according to the commandment, and the example of

the Lord Jesus Christ.

The Day After the Seventh Night.

We left Theodosia in that most distressful condition, in which duty,

struggling with inclination, distracts and rends the mind with agonizing

efforts to decide one way or the other.

With her this was not a slight or momentary strife. It was the terrible

agony of one who struggles for his very life. Dearer to her than life

was Mr. Percy’s love; it was her first love; it was her only love; it

was a pure and holy love; it had been sanctioned by her mother’s fond

approval; it had been sanctified by their formal espousals; the day had

been set for the consummation of their happiness; she had fully given up

her whole heart to it; it was the great, controlling, soul-absorbing

passion of her being; all the hopes of life were centered here. To tear

such love from out the heart, was to rend the heart itself. Yet she felt

it must be done; and God gave her strength to do it. All day long, as we

said, she had crouched at her mother’s side, or followed her like her

shadow. She seemed to feel that something terrible impended over her,

and that she was safer in her mother’s presence. Not one word was spoken

by either of them on the one subject which occupied the minds of both.

Mrs. Ernest observed that, as the day advanced, her daughter’s face

became more natural in its expression. The lines of agony began to

disappear. The eyes no longer looked so strange and restless; nor did

they turn to her, as in the morning, with that beseeching gaze of agony

which almost broke her heart. But still, she noticed that her lips often

moved, though she uttered no word; and when she spoke to her about the

business of the household, it was some time before she answered, and

then slowly, and often in such a way as to show that she had not fully

comprehended her meaning. Her mind was evidently far away.

About three o’clock she laid down her worsted, and taking up the

Testament which lay upon her work table, turned to the fourteenth

chapter of Luke, and read: “If any man come to me and hate not his

father and mother, and wife and children, and brethren and sisters, yea,

and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple; and whosoever doth not

bear his cross and come after me, cannot be my disciple. For which of

you, intending to build a tower, sitteth not down first and counteth the

cost, whether he have sufficient to finish it, lest haply after he hath

laid the foundation and is not able to finish it, all that behold it

begin to mock him, saying, This man began to build, but was not able to

finish. Or what king going to make war against another king, sitteth not

down first, and consulteth whether he be able, with ten thousand, to

meet him that cometh against him with twenty thousand? or else, while

yet the other is a great way off he sendeth an ambassage, and desireth

conditions of peace. So likewise whosoever he be of you that forsaketh

not all that he hath, he cannot be my disciple.”

“Mother,” said she, looking up, and speaking as though her mother had

known what she was reading, “you will not make it necessary for me to

forsake you too?”

“Why, what do you mean, my daughter?”

“Jesus says here, that if I do not forsake all for him, I cannot be his

disciple.”

“Yes, my child, but that has nothing to do with baptism. It means that

you must give up all _to be religious_.”

“To be religious, mother, is to _obey Jesus Christ_. ‘If ye love me,’ he

says, ‘keep my commandments.’ One of the plainest and most positive of

those commandments is, ‘_Believe_ and _be baptized_.’ Baptism is

commanded as much as faith. It makes, indeed, a part of the _same

command_. I trust I have believed; but I _have never been baptized_.

Even if the sprinkling which I received in my childhood had been

baptism, _it was no act of mine_. I have not obeyed: _I—must—do—it_!”

She pronounced these last four words slowly, with a slight pause between

each of them, as though each cost her heart a pang to speak it, and yet

it must be said.

“Well, my child, if you must, you must.”

“But, mother, you will not forbid me? You will not make it needful to

disobey you as well as to—” But she could not finish the sentence, and

left her mother to guess her meaning.

“No, my dear child, I will not absolutely _forbid_ you. You know what I

think about these things. Baptism is not essential to salvation, and I

had much rather you would remain where you are. I cannot bear to see you

sacrifice all your prospects in life for a mere whim, for I don’t see

but what one baptism is just as good as another. And if you were not in

such distress, I would certainly oppose you, but I see it would do no

good; and though it will mortify and distress me, I will not forbid you.

And if you are determined to do it at all hazards, and it will relieve

you of a single pang, I give you my consent.”

“Thank you, mother! You do not know what a load you have taken off my

heart.” And she buried her face in her mother’s lap, and wept aloud for

several minutes. Then she arose, wiped her eyes, and went into her own

room and closed the door.

Shall we invisibly follow her there; see her on her bended knees pour

out her soul to God; hear her cry for help with those inarticulate

groanings which the Apostle speaks of; see the resolve take form and

substance in her heart; see her arise with that same strange calmness

which we observed after she had prayed the day she came up from

witnessing the baptism in the river; see her open her little

writing-desk, and select a sheet of paper; take her pen and write, “My

Dear Mr. Percy;” then pause, lay down her pen, cover her face with her

hands, pressing upon her eye balls, as if to shut out some terrible

vision, while a strong convulsive shudder quivers through her frame? It

is past; she uncovers her face; looks up beseechingly to heaven;

composes herself; takes up her pen, and writes as follows:

“I received yours on Friday evening. To say that its contents

gave me _very great pain_, would but feebly express the truth. I

was not only distressed, but most grievously disappointed; for I

had supposed you were as sincere and earnest in your desire to

know and do your whole duty in regard to this subject as I was

myself. Your letter undeceived me. I do not complain of it. I am

thankful for your expressions of interest in my welfare, and of

affection for myself. I will not deny that I had no higher

ambition, so far as this world is concerned, than to secure your

approbation. But I cannot, _even to please you_, venture to

disobey my Saviour, I intend to be baptized to-morrow. I am

aware, after what you have said, that by doing so, I shall not

only ‘mortify and distress’ you, but I shall renounce all claim

to your love. When you return, therefore, I shall be to you but

as one dead. I pray you so to consider me; it will be better for

us both. And if you will spare me farther pain, I do entreat you

never to solicit a renewal of our engagement. It will not give

you as much pain to read this as it does me to write it; but I

have weighed it well. I say every word deliberately, though

sorrowfully. I will not cease to pray for you. And will you not

sometimes pray for her who _was_ your

“THEODOSIA.”

This letter she folded, enclosed, sealed, and directed to Mr. Percy’s

lodging place, and called the old servant, Aunt Chloe, and directed her

to take and leave it there.

This done, she returned to her mother with something almost like a smile

of joy upon her face. The peace of God was in her heart; and if she was

not _happy_, she was no longer wretched. With a low, but calm and almost

cheerful voice, she told her mother what she had done, and asked her to

make suitable preparation for her baptism. At night she sent a line to

Uncle Jones, requesting him, if he could, to be present; and another to

Mr. Courtney, announcing her intention to ask for baptism. She spent

most of the time in her own room, alone, until the hour of rest, and

then slept sweetly till morning. When she awoke, her first thought was

expressed in the language of the Psalmist—“I laid me down and slept; and

I awoke again, for the Lord preserved me.” She felt now that she was, in

a peculiar sense, in the care of God. She had given all, and had

obtained all. She had given up self, and obtained Jesus in all his

fullness, and God in all his boundless power and love. Jesus was _her_

Saviour; God was _her_ God. Yes, the mighty Maker of the worlds, the

omnipotent Ruler of the Universe, was not only her _God_, but her

_Father_. She felt this morning that she might ask what she would. And

yet such was the overwhelming conviction in her heart, that her loving

Saviour and her kind Father knew so infinitely better than herself what

she most needed, and what would be really best, that she could only

pray: “‘Thy will be done;’ I leave it all with thee. Do what thou seest

best. Give joy or sorrow; give comfort or affliction; give life or

death. Thou knowest best—thou dost all things well. I trust myself—my

soul and body; my happiness here and hereafter; all I am, all I have;

all I feared, all I hoped for—I give all up to thee. Thou only art my

portion now; and I am thine—_all_ thine; I _delight_ to do thy will, oh,

my Beloved. I have now no other love but thee, my Saviour, my Father, my

Friend. Thou art my all. Jesus is mine, and I am his. What can I want

beside? Blessed Saviour, may I never leave thee—may I never grieve thee

any more. Lord, thou knowest all things. Thou knowest that I love thee.

Yes, I love thee, and I will keep _all_ thy commandments. Show me thy

ways. Thou shalt guide me by thy counsels, and afterward receive me into

thy glory. Yes, me—even me—poor, lost, rebellious sinner that I am. Thou

wilt love me freely. Thou wilt save me through thine own infinite mercy.

Mercy, all mercy. Not for works of righteousness which we have done, but

of his own mercy, he saves us. Jesus, I thank thee. Oh, make me love

thee more.”

With such incoherent ejaculations of trust, and praise, and prayer, she

rose, and prepared for church.

It was strange how the news had got abroad, yet it had spread like

wild-fire through the town that Miss Theodosia Ernest would that morning

apply for baptism. At an early hour the school-house was crowded to its

utmost capacity, and before the services commenced, even the windows and

the doors, and every place was occupied from which one could hope to

catch a glimpse at what was going on within, or hear a word of what was

said.

The church bells began to ring. Mrs. Ernest had all the morning been

distracted between affection for her lovely child, which prompted her to

go to the school-house, and pride, which urged her to go and sit in her

own pew as though nothing had happened. Curiosity to see and hear what

Theodosia would do and say, and what sort of people these Baptists were,

joined with affection in pleading for the school-house; and a sort of

indefinite dread of what _Mr. Johnson_ might say, came to the help of

pride. And, it may be, there was something like a mistaken sense of

religious duty which spake on that side also. However this may be, the

first few strokes of the costly and solemn-sounding bell which had been

accustomed to call her to church, seemed suddenly to decide her.

“I want you to understand, Theodosia,” said she, “that though I do not

forbid, yet I do not altogether approve of what you are about to do, and

I cannot sanction any such proceedings by my presence. I don’t know what

Mr. Johnson would think of me, if I should forsake our own dear church

to wander about after these new comers.”

This was a new disappointment to the sensitive child. She had greatly

relied on her mother’s presence to sustain her in the untried scenes

through which she was about to pass. She had also hoped that Uncle Jones

would call and go with her, but he had not come, and she was alone. Yet

she was _not alone_, for she looked up as her mother was speaking, and

in her heart said again, “Not my will, but thine be done!”—And the

Spirit replied, “Fear not, for _I am with thee_; and be not dismayed,

for I am thy God!” “When my father and my mother forsake me the Lord

will take me up.”

I do not say that she felt no natural misgivings, no modest shrinking

from going alone into a house filled with strangers, with the

consciousness that every eye was on her, and every heart full of

curiosity to see how she would look, what she would do, and what she

would say; but she thought much less of this than my reader would

naturally suppose. The peace of God was in her heart, and it gave to her

mind and her manner a quiet yet determined calmness, and a collectedness

of thought and perfect self-possession which was surprising even to

herself.

She set out therefore _alone_; for Edwin had not returned from

Sabbath-school. Two or three times the mother turned and looked after

her as she went, and wished she _could_ consistently, and without

displeasing Mr. Johnson, have gone with the dear child.

Mr. Courtney had taken it for granted that Uncle Jones or some of the

family would accompany her, and when he saw her coming by herself, he

hastened to meet her, and conducted her to a seat.

The preacher was not the same who had been there before, but a stranger

who had providentially been sent to fill his place. He was a man about

forty years of age, rather below than above the ordinary size; his

complexion dark, his hair slightly silvered with gray, and the top of

his head almost bald. His eyes, and indeed the whole expression of his

face, were somewhat peculiar. He seemed to have been long in feeble

health, and his face was marked with lines of suffering. Its habitual

expression was one of _sad and sorrowful resignation_. The casual

observer saw in it no evidence of lofty genius, or of even extraordinary

talent—and yet he was an extraordinary man. Though he had but slight

acquaintance with the technicalities of logic, he was a clear and

powerful reasoner. Though he knew little of the scholastic theories of

theology, he was wonderfully familiar with the teachings of Jesus and

the Apostles. Though he professed no acquaintance with the metaphysical

subtleties of mental philosophy, he knew full well how to convince the

understanding and move upon the hearts of his hearers. He was not

familiar with the ancient classics, yet his style was pure and strong,

and not entirely void of elegance. His tones and gestures were not

formed by any rules of oratory, yet he was sometimes very eloquent. When

he first rose, there was a slight rusticity in his manner, and something

in his dress which for a single moment struck Theodosia unpleasantly;

but there was, also, such an air of trusting meekness, that this

impression was removed almost as soon as made. His text was John xv.

14—“Ye are my friends if ye do whatsoever I command you.” And the main

object of his sermon was to show the vast difference which there is

between the so-called obedience which springs from hope, or grows up

from fear, and the willing and _true_ obedience of the Gospel which is

produced by _love_. It was a deep, heart-searching discourse, and must

have left on every attentive bearer’s mind the sad conviction that

genuine Gospel obedience is much more rare than is commonly imagined. We

cannot follow him through all his argument; but we may not omit one

portion of it. “The obedience of _love_,” said he, “makes no division of

Christ’s commandments into essential and non-essential. ‘Ye are my

friends if ye do _whatever_ I command you,’ whether _you_ think it

important or not. We know that we love him when we have respect unto

_all_ his commandments. The obedience of _hope_ says, how much _must I

do to_ be permitted to enter heaven? The obedience of _fear_ asks, what

may I omit to do, and yet escape from hell? The obedience of _love_

simply inquires, ‘Lord, what wilt THOU have me to do?’ It does not ask,

what _must_ I do? but what _can_ I do to show my love for Jesus? It does

not ask how far I _can venture to disobey_, and keep my hope of heaven?

How far off can I follow Jesus, and yet not be disowned of him? Oh,

never, never! He who will obey Christ no farther than he may fancy is

_essential to salvation_, has never obeyed him at all. Love of self, not

love of Christ, is his controlling motive. He is striving not to please

his Saviour but to secure his _own personal happiness_. Love teaches a

different way. Love _delights_ to do his will. Love delights to do all

his will. Love never asks, what is essential to salvation? but what did

Jesus Christ _command_? Love never asks, how little _may_ I do? but how

much _can_ I do? If _he_ commands, that is reason enough. He is no

_loving_ child who will obey his father only in those things which he

must do, or be disowned and disinherited. He is no _loving_ child who

will do all he dare to grieve a doting parent whom he believes will

pardon all, and love him though he grieves him. He who truly loves him

will obey his _slightest desires_ as well as his most peremptory

commands. He who truly loves will study to know all his will, and in his

very heart _delight_ to do it—_not_ to avoid disinheritance—not to

secure his estate—not to enjoy his father’s bounty, either present or

prospective—but simply because the father _wishes_, _asks it_, or

commands it.

“And yet men call themselves obedient children of God, while they refuse

to do what he commands, because he does not add to the command a promise

of heaven or a threatening of hell. Oh, it is terrible to think how

fearful will be their disappointment! Obeying only to secure salvation

is itself sufficient proof that they have not obeyed unto salvation.

Omitting all but what they think essential to salvation is of itself

sufficient proof that they have omitted all that _is essential_ to

salvation. The faith of the Gospel _works by love_, and love is obedient

to _all_ his commandments, so far as it is able to know and to do them.

When, therefore, Christ Jesus gives a plain command, as that to ‘believe

and be baptized,’ love will not be content merely to believe. It will do

both. It will do _whatever_ Christ commands, and he who stops because

there is no penalty of hell fire attached to the last, as there is to

the first part of the command, is no friend to Jesus. He does not obey

from love to _Jesus_, but from love to _self_. And further, the

obedience of love takes the command as it is given. It obeys in the same

order that Christ requires. It not only does the very acts which he

commands, but does them in that very _way_ that he requires them to be

done. If Christ commands _first_ to believe and _then_, when thus

prepared, to be baptized, the obedience of _love_ will never venture to

_reverse_ Christ’s order. It will not seek to be first baptized and then

believe. And as the command requires _personal_ obedience, it will never

seek to substitute obedience _rendered by another_. Christ commands

_you_ yourselves in your own right, and for yourselves, to _believe_,

and then to be _baptized_. It may be you have not done either. Oh, what

a fearful state! Not to have even begun to obey! It may be you have

believed, but are fancying that an act done by your parents, and your

pastor, without your knowledge or consent, and which _they called_

baptism, has released you from the obligation to obey yourself. But do

not mistake. The religion of Christ is a _personal_ religion. The

obedience it requires is an intelligent and personal obedience. You must

be baptized for yourself. It must be an act of your own. He that

believeth and is baptized, shall be saved. The one is to be your _own_

act as much as the other. But this command you have never even _tried_

to obey. You have never made the slightest effort. Oh, if you _love_

Jesus, will you not at least _try_ to obey _all_ his commandments?

“One thought more. The obedience of _love_ does what HE commands. ‘Ye

are my friends, if ye do whatever _I_ command’—not what others may put

in the place of it—not what you may fancy would do as well. You are not

to ‘teach for doctrines the commandments of men.’ Jesus is the sole

Lawgiver of his church. _His_ commandments, given in person or by those

who spake as they were moved by his Holy Spirit, we must obey. If he was

immersed in Jordan, then John’s baptism was immersion. If John’s baptism

was immersion, then the baptism administered by Jesus and his disciples

was immersion; for John says, Jesus went into a certain place, and there

he tarried and baptized. And John also was baptizing in Ænon at the same

time. And the Pharisees heard how that Jesus made and baptized more

disciples than John. Whatever one did the other did. It was the same

_thing_, because it is called in the same connection by the same name.

And if Jesus and John immersed, it was immersion that he commanded. Yet

_men_ have done away with what HE commanded, and substituted sprinkling

in its place. To believe and be sprinkled, therefore, is not to _do

whatever he commands_, but to teach and practice for his commands the

doctrines of men; and of those who do such things he says, ‘In vain do

they worship me.’ Don’t call me bigoted for reminding you of this. They

are not _my_ words, but the words of Jesus Christ. It is _he_ who says

it; and I believe that he _means_ just what he says. Popes and

cardinals, bishops and priests, have met in solemn conclave and

_changed_ the ordinance of Jesus. _They_ have substituted the sprinkling

of infants for the immersion of believers. This was ordained by Christ,

and that by anti-Christ. Yet there are many professed believers, men who

would be grieved if I should intimate that they did not _love_ the

Saviour—who in his name and as his ordinance practice these commandments

of men. The very time and place when and where these changes were thus

made by popes and councils is recorded by themselves. They claim to have

_authority_ as the vicegerents of Christ on earth to make such changes.

But the obedience of love will never recognize _their_ rule. It obeys

_Jesus Christ_. It does whatever =he= commands. And whenever professed

religious teachers, whether Catholic or Protestant, teach other

commandments as a substitute for his—it rejects them with disdain.”

After the sermon, he came down from the little platform which had been

erected for his convenience, and announced the church as ready to

receive applicants for membership—requesting if there were any present

who desired to unite with it, that they would come forward while the

brethren sang a hymn, and take a seat allotted for that purpose.

The brethren immediately commenced singing the hymn—

“’Tis religion that can give Sweetest pleasures while we live; ’Tis

religion can supply Solid comfort when we die.”

Before they had completed the first couplet, Theodosia arose and walked

to the appointed seat. And when they had finished, the minister asked

her to give to the church some account of her religious experience, that

they might be able to judge of the nature of her faith and hope.

My reader, who is familiar with her strength of mind, firmness of

purpose, clearness of conception, and habitual command of the most

appropriate language, can form little conception of the surprise which

was excited, as much by her manner as her words. She did not wait to be

questioned, and simply answer yes or no, as is customary on such

occasions; but modestly arose and turned her face to the audience, and

began to relate in a low, but still in a perfectly audible voice, her

experience of grace before she made any profession of religion. The

house was still as death. Every eye was fixed, every ear attentive to

even the slightest modulation of her voice. After describing, in her

modest and simple, yet most impressive style, her conviction and

conversion, she paused a moment, as if to think of the propriety of

saying what was yet upon her mind.

“And why,” inquired the minister, who was ignorant of her history, “did

you not _then_ unite with the people of God?”

“At that time,” she continued, “I had rarely been in any other but a

Presbyterian house of worship. I regarded Presbyterians as the true

church of Christ. Perhaps I would not be going too far if I should say,

that I regarded them as the _only_ true church, or at least as the only

church that was not involved in some most important error of doctrine or

practice—it was my mother’s church;” and her voice faltered, and eyes

filled with tears, as she said it. “It was the church in which God’s

truth had been made effectual to my conversion. I had no shadow of a

doubt that it was _the church_, if not the _only_ church, and with them

I _did unite_. Nor, until last Sabbath, did I ever have a doubt that I

was right in doing so. Last Sabbath, you will recollect, one of your

number was baptized. I had the curiosity to go to the river. As I saw

her plunged beneath the water, the thought impressed itself upon my

mind, _if that’s baptism, I have never been baptized_; for whatever

baptism may be, it must always be the same—‘One Lord, one faith, one

baptism.’ I went home and commenced a careful and thorough investigation

of the subject. I found that it was immersion, and not sprinkling, that

Jesus commanded. It was this which HE himself; as our Example, submitted

to in the river of Jordan. It was this which his disciples practiced in

his life. I was this which he commanded after his death. It was this,

therefore, which he required of me. I have not yet obeyed him, but I

_desire_ ‘to _do whatever he commands_ me.’ Mine is, I humbly trust, the

‘obedience of love.’ I have come here to-day, and it is the first time

in my life that I have ever been in a Baptist Church. I have come to ask

you to _baptize me_, if you think me worthy, according to the

commandment of the Lord Jesus.”

“Why, this is wonderful!” exclaimed the minister, as she resumed her

seat.

“It is the Lord’s doing,” rejoined Mr. Courtney, “and it is wonderful in

our eyes.”

“Brethren, what will we do in regard to this application?”

“I move,” said one, “that she be baptized, and received into the

fellowship of the church.”

This was, of course, unanimously determined on.

“When will you be baptized, my sister?” inquired the minister.

“As soon as it may suit your convenience, sir. I am ready now.”

“Then after prayer we will at once proceed to the water’s side. Let us

pray.”

They kneeled, and offered up a short and fervent prayer that God would

own the ordinance about to be administered in his name—bless her who was

to be its recipient—fill her with the comforts of the Gospel—make her a

faithful and useful Christian, and at death receive her into his

heavenly kingdom.

When Satan finds that he cannot prevent the performance of a religious

duty, he often strives to render its performance as distressing as he

can. Theodosia had not yet left the house before she began to be

assailed by the most terrible temptations. First came the magnificent

church, with its soft light, its cushioned pews, its richly carpeted

aisles, its tasteful and costly pulpit, its deep-toned organ, and its

well-trained choir, which had all her life been the accompaniments of

her public devotions. And she could not but contrast their rich,

luxurious elegance and comfort, with the rough platform, the naked,

dirty floor, the hard benches, and harsh, unskillful voices which had

surrounded her to-day. In that splendid church she saw her mother

weeping over her daughter’s apostasy—her brother showing no interest in

her fate—her uncle, whom she loved as a father, and upon whose

approbation she had confidently relied, yet he had not come near her,

though she had earnestly requested his presence—her pastor, who had

taught her in childhood, and prayed over her at her conversion—and there

was yet another, whom she now scarcely dared to think of. They were all

there—all happy, all united. She only was a poor outcast from all—yes,

yes, from _all she loved_. With her own rash hand she had cut the ties

which bound her to her kindred and her friends. She had left all the

_elegance_ so congenial to her delicacy and refinement of taste. She had

left all the affection so necessary to the very life of her fond,

clinging, loving heart, and here she stood _alone_ among these

_strangers_, whom she felt instinctively, with one or two exceptions,

had scarcely a sentiment or taste in common with her own. Then, as she

was walking to the river, they passed the _very spot_ where she and Mr.

Percy stood on the previous Sabbath; and in a single moment, what

visions of affluence and ease, of elegant _social_ enjoyment, of

domestic bliss—all the happiness of the loved and loving _wife_,

extending down through many long and blissful years—came vividly before

her mind. She could see nothing else. She forgot for a moment where she

was, and why she came there. She walked on unconsciously. Unconsciously

she took the offered arm of the minister as he came to conduct her into

the river. The touch of the water recalled her to herself. She paused,

and suddenly withdrew her arm, clasped her hands together, and looked up

to heaven, and so stood for some moments, lost in silent prayer. Those

who could see her face, observed the expression of distress and terror

(which they attributed to a natural timidity at entering the water)

suddenly gave place to one of joy and confidence as she again placed her

arm within the minister’s and walked on. Jesus had heard her prayer—“Oh,

Lord, save me! Give me strength to make all this sacrifice for thee!

Thou art my Saviour. Thou hast commanded this. I do it in obedience to

thee. Oh, leave me not. Help, Lord—I have no other helper—thou art _now

my all_.” And as she prayed, the visions of earthly bliss vanished from

before her, and she saw Jesus stretched upon the cross in dying agony,

and he seemed to say, “I bore _all this_ for thee.” And she thought of

the words of the Apostle—“He died for us.” And as she walked along, she

remembered what Jesus said—“_Blessed_ are ye when men shall hate you,

and when they shall separate you from their company, and shall reproach

you, and shall cast out your name as evil, for the Son of man’s sake.

Rejoice ye in that day, and leap for joy—for your reward is great in

Heaven.” “And every one that hath forsaken houses, or brethren or

sisters, or father or mother, or wife or children, or lands, for my

name’s sake, shall receive an hundred fold, and shall inherit

everlasting life.”

So fully was her mind occupied with this delightful thought, that she

felt no further anxiety, and not the slightest fear. And as she was

lifted from the liquid grave, she could not help exclaiming in an

audible voice, “_Jesus, I thank thee!_” And then, as they turned toward

the shore, such a gleam of heavenly peace and holy joy illumined her

beautiful face, that several of the brethren and sisters who stood upon

the bank, simultaneously exclaimed, “Blessed be the name of the Lord!”

“Yes,” she exclaimed, “blessed be his holy name!” And suddenly she

stopped, and with a voice which was naturally sweet and powerful, and

had been carefully cultivated, and now was rendered deeper and more

expressive by intensity of feeling, she commenced singing:

“Jesus, I my cross have taken, All to leave and follow thee; Friendless,

poor, despised, forsaken, Thou from hence my all shall be. And whilst

thou shalt smile upon me, God of wisdom, love, and might, Foes may hate,

and friends disown me, Show thy face, and all is bright. Man may trouble

and distress me, ’Twill but drive me to thy breast; Life with trials

hard may press me, Heaven will bring me sweeter rest. Oh, ’tis not in

grief to harm me, While thy love is left to me! Oh, ’twere not in joy to

charm me, Were that joy unmixed with thee!”

The effect upon the audience was electrical. Tears streamed from every

face; many sobbed and wept aloud. Among these was a voice which

instantly fixed her attention. She looked up among the assembly, and was

surprised to see that it had increased since she started into the water

to a great multitude. The congregations from several other churches had

hurried to the river as soon as they were dismissed from their several

places of meeting. Foremost among the crowd stood Uncle Jones, with her

mother on one side, and Edwin on the other. It was she that she heard;

for when she saw her daughter standing thus alone, and heard her sing,

“Friendless, poor, despised, forsaken,” she lifted up her voice and

wept. Nor did she weep alone. Strong men, who were not professors of

religion, and who were thought to care for none of these things, stood

and gazed at that sweet face, all radiant with the love of Jesus, as

though it had been the face of an angel; and as they looked, the big

tears chased each other down their unconscious cheeks. The brethren and

sisters of the church wept; old men and mothers in Israel wept. Young

men and maidens wept. But Theodosia heard none, saw none but her mother.

As she came to the water’s edge, that mother rushed down to meet her,

and clasped her closely to her heart. The brothers and sisters of the

church, who were approaching to give her the hand of fellowship, stood

respectfully aside.

[Illustration: Theodosia embraces her mother, Mrs. Ernest, after being

immersed.]

“Oh, mother, do you—can you forgive me?”

“Don’t talk so, my child; I have never blamed you. You have done your

duty; you have done right. You have obeyed your Saviour—he will bless

you. I wish I had the courage to follow your example.”

“God bless you for those words, my mother! Oh! how full of joy my heart

is. He maketh my cup run over. Surely goodness and mercy hath followed

me all the days of my life. Uncle, dear uncle, it is _blessed to obey_.

Can’t you give up _all_ for Christ?

“Mr. Courtney, I thank you for your teachings. Now I _know_ I am

baptized. I have now done just what Jesus commanded. I have left all and

followed him; and, blessed be his name, I have already that peace which

passeth understanding.” And as the brethren and sisters came crowding

round to welcome her into the communion of the church on earth, she sang

again with that sweet, soul-thrilling voice, to which the intensity of

her feelings and utter self-abandonment gave tenfold power:

“Children of the living God, Take the stranger to your heart—Let me

dwell in your abode, Never more from you to part.

“Can you love me? Will you help me? Help me on my way to God—Can you

love me? Will you help me? Help me keep his precious word.”

While singing, she continued to give her hand to one after another as

they came up; and as she finished the strain, a sister standing by sang:

“Yes, come, thou blessed of the Lord, No stranger art thou now—We

welcome thee with warm accord, Our friend and sister thou.

“The hand of fellowship, the heart Of love we offer thee; Leaving the

world, thou dost but part With lies and vanity.

“In weal or woe, in joy or care, Thy portion shall be ours; Christians

their mutual burdens bear, They lend their mutual powers.”

The minister pronounced the benediction, and they led her up the bank,

and then each went his way rejoicing.

Uncle Jones went home and dined with Mrs. Ernest. When Theodosia had

changed her dress, and returned to the parlor, he went up and took her

hand as she came in, saying, “My dear Theo., why did you not tell me you

were going to be baptized to-day? I would have gladly gone with you to

your meeting.”

“Then you did not mean to cast me off?” said she, her eyes filling with

tears. “I thought you too had forsaken me. I sent you a line last night,

entreating you to be present—but you did not come!”

“I did not get it, nor did I know, till after church, that you intended

any such thing to-day. I missed you from your accustomed seat, and

inquired of your mother as soon as the meeting was dismissed, and

learned that you had gone to be baptized. We hurried to the river, and

fortunately were just in time to see you go into the water.”

“Oh, uncle! I am so glad. I thought that you, and mother, and all who

loved me, so disapproved of what I was about to do, that you would none

of you be present. God is already giving me back my friends.”

There was preaching again at three o’clock,—and as the school-house

could not hold half the people, it was thought best to adjourn to the

court house. At night the court house was filled to overflowing, and the

preacher requested those who were concerned about their souls’

salvation, and desired the prayers of the people of God, to take a seat

in front of the congregation. More than a dozen came forward at once,

among whom were several who had been a long time professors of religion,

and some were members of the Baptist Church. On inquiry, these

professors stated that they had been _trying to get to heaven_, and with

this object in view had endeavored to lead in some degree religious

lives. They had gone to church, partaken of the Supper, sometimes

prayed, or tried to pray—but took _no pleasure_ in religion; and from

what they heard in the morning, were convinced that whatever obedience

they had shown was the obedience of fear, or hope, and not of love. _For

if they could have got to heaven without religion, they would have

willingly dispensed with it._ They had abstained from open sin, because

they knew that those who lived in open sin would _surely be lost_. They

had endeavored to perform certain duties, because they considered the

attempt (at least) to do such duties to be _essential to salvation_.

What they did not think thus essential, had little weight upon their

conscience. Now they saw that they had been fearfully deceived, and

desired to seek for the obedience of love—not the obedience which seeks

to merit heaven, and continually looks for its reward—but that which

receives all mercies as the _free gift_ of God in Christ, and yet longs,

and strives, and prays to do all his commandments, because it thus and

only thus can exercise, exhibit, and gratify the _love of God that fills

the heart_.

The minister did not try to give them back their hopes, and make them

think that they had no occasion for alarm. He knew full well that Christ

will say to _many_, “Depart from me, I never knew you,” who here on

earth _called_ him Lord, Lord, and professed to be his disciples. He

greatly feared that there were thousands and thousands who had a

respectable standing in the church of Christ, who never asked, with the

converted Paul, “Lord, what wilt THOU _have me to do_?” But only with

the yet unconverted jailer, “What must I do to be saved?” This last he

knew was most important, but it was not _enough_. It was a needful and

common _preparation_ for religion, but it was not _religion_. It might

lead to _seek_ for faith, but it is not the _result_ of saving faith,

for _THAT works by LOVE_—and through Love purifies the heart—and through

Love brings forth good works in the life. He was convinced, moreover,

that it was infinitely better for many of God’s true children to suffer

temporary anxiety and alarm, than for one false professor to be

confirmed in his delusive hope.

It was determined at the close of this meeting, to appoint one for

Monday night, and probably continue to have preaching every night during

the week. Whether they did so, and what was the result, we will learn

hereafter. It is time for us now to return to our study, which at the

close of the Seventh Night (the attentive reader will perhaps remember)

was about the Scriptural authority, or rather about the utter want of

all Scriptural authority for infant baptism.

THE EIGHTH NIGHT’S STUDY.

New characters and new arguments.

Infant baptism is virtually forbidden in the Word of God.

The covenant of circumcision furnishes no ground of defence for infant

baptism.

Eighth Night’s Study.

The Reverend Mr. Johnson had, early in the preceding week, commenced the

preparation of a discourse, which was intended, at once and forever, to

put an end to any further defection among his flock. He was a fine

declaimer, and was, in the pulpit, accustomed at times to deal in the

bitterest denunciation of those who differed from his party in their

religious opinions and practices. He had more power of sarcasm than of

reason, and hence, found it easier to denounce the opinions of others

than to defend his own. His discourse upon the Sabbath through which we

have just passed, was that which we saw him preparing at the

commencement of our Third Night’s Study. It was designed to be a

scornful, bitter, and withering denunciation of all those weak minded

and credulous, or fanatical, persons who, in this day of light, and

surrounded by such advantages as were possessed by _his_ congregation,

could be by any means induced to wander away from the sacred pale of

Presbyterianism. We will not trouble the reader with even a synopsis of

this remarkable sermon. It had been prepared with evident labor and

care, and it was delivered with great energy and feeling. Under other

circumstances, it might have produced the effect that its author

intended, which was to deter any other persons from any investigation of

the subject of baptism, or indeed any other religious subject, except

for the purpose of confirming their faith in the doctrines in which they

had been instructed from their childhood. To have fully answered his

purpose, he should have preached it at least a week sooner. Now, it was

universally understood to be expressly aimed at certain individuals,

whom it was well known had been investigating the subject of baptism,

and _might_ possibly be considering the propriety, or rather the

conscientious _necessity_, of a change of church relationship. Many a

glance was turned, during its delivery, to the seats occupied by Uncle

Jones and Mrs. Ernest. The latter felt that it was an uncalled-for abuse

of her absent child, whom she knew had been impelled to the course she

had taken by the sternest and most distressing conviction of

indispensable duty; and though she wept as she listened, her tears were

tears of mortification and anger. That sermon did more to destroy her

faith in Pastor Johnson, and her affection for her church, than all the

anti-Presbyterian arguments she had ever heard. So also it did more to

fix the attention of the congregation upon the work which was going on

among the Baptists, than any thing which _they_ could have done or said.

Many were willing to go and learn at the Baptist meetings what those

terrible and seducing doctrines were which could so excite the ire of

their venerable shepherd.

After preaching, he gave notice that a meeting of the Session would be

held at three o’clock, at the parsonage, to attend to some business of

importance, and gave a special invitation to the _resident ministers_

(by whom he meant the President of the college, and those of the

professors who were also preachers) to meet with them.

Neither Uncle Jones nor Mrs. Ernest said any thing of this ominous

announcement to Theodosia, for both had some indistinct conception that

the business to be done related to her case.

Uncle Jones, as one of the ruling elders, and a member of the Session,

felt it his duty to be present. He was a little after the time, however;

and when he arrived, he found that they had already entered upon the

discussion of the business on hand. There was an awkward pause in the

conversation when he came in, until the pastor remarked that the matter

which they were considering might be an unpleasant one to him; and if

so, there would be a quorum present should he think best to retire.

“If your business relates in any way to my niece,” said the Professor,

“I prefer to witness all you have to say or do.”

“We were indeed speaking of her,” said the pastor; “and though it gives

me pain to say it, I have felt it my duty, also, to make some mention of

your own case, as of one aiding and abetting error in another, if not

yourself entertaining opinions which are inconsistent with your

obligations as a ruling elder in the church.”

There was a slight flush passed over the manly face of Professor Jones,

as the pastor, with evident reluctance, thus gave him to understand that

_one_ object of the meeting was to inflict the discipline of the church

upon his recreant niece, and another to take steps to depose him from

the eldership; but he answered very calmly:

“Don’t let my coming in interrupt your order of business. You will take

up one case at a time. I will be present when you take action on that of

Miss Ernest. When you are ready to consider mine, I will retire.”

“We understand,” said the pastor, “that Miss Ernest, while her name was

still standing as a member upon our record, has gone to a Baptist

society, solicited immersion, and has actually been immersed by a

Baptist preacher. By this act, she has undoubtedly severed all

connection with our church, and must of necessity be excluded from _our

communion_. The only question is whether we are bound to make the usual

citation to appear and answer to the charge.”

“There can be no doubt,” replied Professor Jones, “that we are bound,

according to our rules, to give the ten days’ notice of citation, with a

copy of the charges preferred against the accused. But, in this case, I

will take it upon myself to answer for my niece, that she would prefer

the quickest and the simplest mode of excision. She has no wish for

farther connection with us. She regards herself as already separated

from our communion, and will probably make no answer or defence to any

charges not affecting her moral or Christian character, which you may

think fit to bring against her.”

After some consultation, it was decided that it would not be proper to

dispense with any of the stipulated formalities of the rules of

discipline; and consequently, all that could at this time be done, was

to take order that a copy of the charges preferred against her, the

names of the witnesses by whom they were to be established, and a

citation to appear and answer ten days thereafter, should be issued and

served upon Miss Theodosia Ernest. A committee, consisting of the pastor

and clerk, was appointed to carry these measures into execution.

“You are now done with Miss Ernest’s case for the present,” said

Professor Jones, “and I will retire, that you may feel perfect freedom

in speaking about mine.”

“Oh, no,” said the President of the College, the Rev. T. J. McNought,

D.D., LL.D., who was present on the invitation of the pastor. “We were

merely speaking of what it _might_ be necessary to do in a case such as

our brother Johnson conceived yours would _eventually become_, should

you continue to progress in the direction in which he imagines you have

started.”

“Brethren,” replied the Professor, “let us not misunderstand each other.

You know me well. I am a plain, blunt man. I will have no concealment on

this subject. My niece has carefully studied the Word of God, which our

standards declare ‘IS THE ONLY RULE OF FAITH AND PRACTICE.’ I assisted

her in the investigation. We both came to the conclusion, as I think

every right-minded man must do, that the baptism commanded and spoken of

in the New Testament, is neither sprinkling nor pouring, but dipping,

or, as it is commonly called, immersion. This I now firmly believe. This

I am ready to prove from the Holy Word to you or any one else who feels

inclined to inquire into the matter. I will prove it by the very meaning

of the _word_ baptize. I will prove it by a reference to the _places_

selected for baptism. By the going down into the water, and the coming

up out of the water, said to have preceded and followed baptism. I will

prove it by the nature of the _allusions_ to baptism, as a _bath_, as a

_planting_, and a burial. I will prove by the testimony of the Fathers,

that it was for centuries the _only_ baptism, and by the testimony of

_our own ablest writers_—such as Wall and Stuart, Neander and

Colman—that it continued to be the _common_ baptism for more than

thirteen hundred years, even in the Roman Catholic Church, and the

churches derived from her, and _still_ continues the only baptism in the

Eastern churches. I will show you the very time and place when and where

the change was made by authority of the _Pope and his council_. I will

show you when and how the new practice was introduced into England and

into this country. I will show you this, not in Baptist books. These

facts do not rest on Baptist testimony, but on that of _our own_

historians and divines. _You know_, President McNought, that what I say

is true; and Mr. Johnson knows it, too, or might know it, if he would

look at the evidence in his possession. Now, if to believe these things

on such testimony makes one a heretic, I wish you distinctly to

understand that I am decidedly heretical. Though I assure you, on my

honor as a man and a Christian, that I am ready and willing to see and

to acknowledge my error, if _any one of you_ can point it out. On the

subject of infant baptism, I am not fully convinced. I am satisfied, as

any one can easily be who will make a critical examination of the

Scriptures, with this object in view, that _there is neither express

commandment nor example to justify the baptism of any but believers, to

be found in the Word of God_. Pastor Johnson and myself have together

searched diligently to find either the precept or the example, and he,

as well as I, was compelled to grant that it _is not there_. But Woods

and Stuart, and others of our most eminent divines, while they have

granted this, still contend for infant baptism. There must, therefore,

be _some other Scriptural ground_ on which it rests. I will be thankful

to any one among you who can point it out.”

There was a moment’s pause. The Session were not prepared for such a

confession of his faith and no one knew what to reply.

“I will now retire,” continued he. “You have the case before you, and

can adopt such measures as you may think best.”

After he had gone, “I told you,” said the pastor, “that he had become a

Baptist in all but the name. I don’t believe his niece would ever have

left us, but for his encouragement and that of her mother.”

“They must have felt,” said Colonel White (the lay member whom we have

had occasion to mention once before), “they must have felt to-day, if

they had any feeling left. I would not have been in their places for the

best farm in the country. It made my very ears tingle to hear how you

belabored them. But it don’t seem to have done him the slightest good. I

doubt if there is but one argument that can be brought to bear upon him,

and that is the same that so easily convinced my young friend, Esquire

Percy.”

“What is that?” inquired President McNought.

“It is the _argumentum ad pocketum_. I have heard from doctors that the

pocket nerve was the most sensitive nerve in the whole body. Convince a

man that his bread and meat depend upon a correct belief, and he is very

apt to believe correctly. This may not be always true of a _woman_, but

I have never known this argument, when prudently and skillfully

presented, to fail of convincing _a man_. You may appoint a committee to

confer with brother Jones, and endeavor to convince him of his errors.

It is, perhaps, essential that you should; for this will give him a

pleasant and honorable opportunity of recalling his heretical

expressions, or at least, of explaining them away. But before you do

this, let me intimate to him that the Board of Trustees (of whom you

know I have the honor to be the President) will greatly dislike to

dispense with his _valuable_ services in the college—but that it is a

Presbyterian college; and however much they may esteem him as a man, and

value him as a teacher, yet we can retain no one whose orthodoxy is

openly doubtful. Believe me, brethren, you will then find him much more

pliable, and ready to be convinced that he is wrong.”

“You may try it,” said the pastor, “but I don’t believe you will

succeed. I know him better than you do. He has always been one of the

most _conscientious_ men I ever knew. He will _act_ as he _believes_.”

“No doubt of it,” rejoined the speculating elder. “He will act as he

believes; but he will believe that it is _wrong_ to make any change in

his church relations, or to meddle any farther with the subject of

baptism, unless it is in the defence of our opinions. Professor Jones is

a poor man. It is not generally known, but it is true, that he has for

several years greatly assisted in the support of Mrs. Ernest and her

children. He has thus lived fully up to his income. He has now a growing

family. He expects to provide for them out of his yearly salary. It is

all he can do. Take away this; turn him out of the house he now

occupies, rent free; let him feel that he stands suddenly not only

destitute, but without employment and friendship—and he is something

more or less than man, if he can look upon his helpless wife and

children and refuse to hear to reason.”.

The Session appointed the pastor and the Rev. T. J. McNought, D.D.,

LL.D., as a committee to see and labor with their brother Jones, and

endeavor to convince him of his errors, especially in regard to infant

baptism, as on this point he seemed likely to be most accessible, and

then adjourned to meet again at the call of the pastor.

Colonel White considered himself a committee of one to make matters easy

for the committee of two. Early in the day, on Monday, he called at the

house of Professor Jones, at an hour when he knew he was absent, for he

felt the necessity of all the assistance he could obtain, and relied

upon Mrs. Jones and the children as his most efficient allies.

“Is the Professor in this morning, Mrs. Jones?”

“Not just now, sir. He has a recitation at this time. He will be in in

half an hour. Take a seat, colonel.”

“No, I thank you, madam. I called to see Professor Jones about some

important business. I will meet him at the college. There is a matter

afloat, which I fear is going greatly to injure him in his future

prospects, and I merely called, as a friend, to suggest some plan by

which the ruin—for ruin I fear it will be—may be averted.”

“Why, Colonel White, what _can_ you mean?” asked the lady, in just that

tone of distress and alarm which he desired to hear.

“Oh,” said he, taking a chair, and sitting down where he could look

right into her face, “it may be nothing after all. Indeed, I don’t

really believe it will amount to any thing; but still, there is, I

_fear_, some danger that he will lose his situation in the college.

There is a rumor abroad, you know, that he is about to become a

Baptist—or, at least, that he has a little tendency that way; and there

are _some_ of the trustees who are disposed to be _very particular_

about such things—too much so, as I may say. Now, for myself, I am

disposed to be liberal; and I shall do what I can—in fact, I may say I

have done what I could—to influence their action. You know I have always

been in favor of Professor Jones. I know him to be a worthy man, and a

very superior instructor; and I know he has the confidence—the implicit

confidence, as I may say—of the whole community. And what if he _does_

entertain some heterodox opinions about a matter not essential to

salvation? says I. Why, he is a good man, and that is enough for me. But

you know, Mrs. Jones, people don’t all think alike; and I am dubious

about what the trustees may take a fancy to do. But I can’t stay,”

continued he, rising, and going toward the door. “I could not do less,

as a neighbor, than just to call and tell you my fears. I will try to

meet Professor Jones himself, and consult with him about what is to be

done.”

He sallied out, and about the time that Professor Jones was starting for

home, placed himself in the way as he came from the college building.

“I am sorry,” said he, “brother Jones, that our pastor used such

expressions as he did yesterday. I don’t wonder that you became excited;

I could not have borne it half as well as you did. But I am afraid you

dropped some expressions that will injure you with the trustees. Some of

them have been talking with me this morning. They say that you as good

as declared yourself a Baptist, and they don’t see what further use a

Presbyterian college has for your services. But I said, wait a while.

Jones is a man of impulse. His feelings were touched yesterday, and he

said more than he intended. He is as much a Presbyterian as I am. He

will be all right in a week. I took the liberty to say thus much for

you. I have always been your friend, and I mean to stand by you through

thick and thin, so long as I can be of any service to you. I don’t

advise you to conceal or falsify your opinions. I know you are incapable

of doing _that_; but I merely suggest, since so much depends upon

it—your own living, as I may say—that you will be a little more careful

and prudent in your expression. Think what you please; but you are not

obliged always to _tell_ all you think. You understand? I felt bound to

give you this little hint. There may be more in it than you are aware

of.”

Such thoughts as these had already intruded into the Professor’s mind.

His wife had several times suggested something of the kind. Till now,

however, the danger had seemed distant and undefined. It was indeed a

dark cloud, but it hung low on the far-off horizon; now, it lowered

above his very head, and covered all the heavens with its blackness.

Nothing but utter ruin stared him in the face. He walked along home,

almost blinded by the rush of fearful thoughts. He sat down in silence

to his dinner. His wife seemed even sadder and more distressed than he

was. Scarcely had he begun to eat, when she inquired:

“Have you seen Colonel White this morning? he was here looking for you.

I _told_ you how it would be, when you first begun to meddle with this

subject of baptism; but you could not be satisfied. And we are now to

lose our pleasant home and all our means of support, and be turned out

destitute upon the world, just because you would not listen to your

wife, and let well enough alone.”

“Oh, not so bad as that I hope, my dear.”

“Well, I don’t know how any thing could be worse. Colonel White says the

trustees are going to declare your professorship vacant, or something

like it, because you have turned Baptist. And of course we must leave

this house, which you know belongs to the college, though we have fitted

it up for ourselves just as though it belonged to us. And you know you

have never saved a dollar of your salary, though I am sure I never spent

the half of it. I never could tell what became of it; and how we are

going to live, I should like very much to know. If you depend on those

ignorant and stingy _Baptists_ for a support, any body can see we must

come to starvation. They could not do much if they would, and they would

not do any thing if they could. I’m sure I hate the day they came here,

to disturb the peace and quiet of our town. They have brought nothing

but trouble to me.”

“But, my dear wife, things may not turn out so badly after all. I did

indeed see Colonel White, and he told me, as a friend, that some of the

trustees are a little piqued at my entertaining opinions on this subject

different from their own; but with his influence exerted in my favor, I

hardly think I shall lose my situation, at least till I can make other

arrangements.”

“His influence! Why, he is the very soul and body of the whole business.

You don’t know that man as I do. He can’t impose on me with his soft

words. I could see the evil intention in his eye while he was talking

about it to me. As soon as he saw how much it distressed me, I could see

it did his very heart good. He is the very man that is working your

ruin. And all I wish is that you had not yourself placed in his hand the

club to beat your brains out with. If I were you, I would go to the

trustees myself, and set the matter right.”

“What can I say to them, my dear?”

“Say? Why tell them, that though it is true that you have given a little

time to the investigation of this subject, you are as good a

Presbyterian as any of them, and have no more thought of leaving the

Presbyterian Church than President McNought himself. I know you _love

our church_. I have often heard you say so. It was good enough for your

father and mother to live in and die in. It was good enough for Timothy

Dwight and Jonathan Edwards to live and die in. It is good enough for

Pastor Johnson, President McNought, your brother professors, and all the

most intelligent, and influential, and wealthy portion of the town, and

_I can’t see why it is not good enough for you_.”

“If I were only sure it is the Church of Jesus Christ, that would be all

I could ask,” he replied; “but I must consider further of this matter.”

“Yes, I see how it will be; you will consider and consider till the

mischief is done and we are turned out of house and home. But I know

it’s of no use to talk to you. You will just go on your own way. I only

wish you may never be as sorry as I am that you ever saw a Baptist.”

Night came, and with it came the committee appointed by the Session—the

reverend pastor and the reverend doctor. They had previously consulted

and arranged their plan of argument. Mr. Johnson knew it would not be

worth while to go again over the same ground through which they had

already traveled. They had in vain _searched the Scriptures_ to find a

single precept or example to justify the baptism of infants. They

concluded, therefore, they must make it out by _inference_.

“I understand,” said President McNought, “that you insist on some

_express precept_ or _example_ for infant baptism, before you will

receive it as a scriptural practice?”

“Oh, no,” said Professor Jones; “I am by no means particular about the

_character_ of the proof. I only ask for Scripture evidence that it was

either required or practiced. You may find that evidence in any form you

can. You can’t find the _precept_ or _example_, that is certain. We have

tried it. If you have any _other_ testimony, let us hear it.”

“The truth is,” said the D.D., “there was no necessity for the precept

or example. The case was so plain, that the early disciples could not

help understanding their duty, so there was no _need_ of commanding it.

“Children had _always_ made a part of the _Jewish_ Church, and unless

there was something said to the contrary, they would of course be

regarded as making a part of the _Christian_ church. If, therefore, you

cannot prove that they _were absolutely excluded_ from the Christian

church, it is most conclusively evident that they were received into it,

though there should be no record of the fact.”

“To that,” said the Professor, “I might reply by saying that the baptism

of infants, if required at all, is a positive institution of our

religion, something _essentially binding_ upon the Christian churches.

And it is difficult for me to conceive how you can make out a _positive

obligation to perform a certain Christian duty in a church capacity_,

from the mere fact that _not one word is said about it_. Your argument

amounts to this. The Jews _circumcised_ their male infants at eight days

old, because God had again and again positively and plainly _commanded_

them to do so; therefore Christians should _baptize_ all their infant

children, both male and female, _because_ the Lord has given _no

commandment on the subject_, and further, because we cannot find the

slightest allusion to any of the first Christians as having done or

refused to do it, nor any intimation that any person was ever expected

to do it. Such logic may be very conclusive to you, but I can never be

convinced by it.

“But I think I may safely venture to take the very ground proposed by

you, and prove that _infants_ (according to your own language) _were

absolutely excluded_, both by the commandments of the Saviour and the

example of the early Christians. While looking in vain for any precept

or example to justify the baptism of infants, we found enough both of

precept and example to satisfy my mind, since I have come to reflect

about it, that _infant baptism_ is absolutely and clearly forbidden.

“It is forbidden in the commission itself. The command to baptize

_believers_ is a command _not to baptize_ any but believers. The command

to make disciples _first_ and then baptize them, is a command _not to

baptize_ any who are not first made disciples. If I tell my servant to

go and wash all the old sheep in my flock, it is equivalent to a

prohibition to wash the little lambs. If I tell him to cut down all the

_dead_ trees in a grove, it is equivalent to a prohibition to cut any

green and living ones—and if he should disobey me and cut the green ones

also, I would not consider it a valid excuse, that I had _last year_, on

_another plantation_, expressly ordered him to _girdle_ both green and

dry. So the command to baptize _believers_ excludes all others; and as

infants cannot believe, it excludes them from the very necessity of the

case. Nor would I like to offer, for the violation of this command, such

an excuse as this: Oh, Lord, I know that thou didst ordain _only_ the

baptism of _disciples_ and _believers_—but as thou didst, under a

_former_ dispensation, expressly command children to be _circumcised_, I

thought thou wouldst prefer to have them baptized under this, although

thou didst omit to tell us so. Would he not reply, What right had you to

make ordinances for me? If I commanded the _Jews to circumcise their

children_, it was their duty to do it; and when I command _Christians_

to baptize _believers_ and _disciples_, it is their duty to do _that_.

‘Ye are my friends if ye do whatsoever I command you.’ ‘But in vain do

you worship me, teaching for doctrines the _commandments of men_.’

“And as a prohibition may be fairly inferred from the _command_, so it

may also from the _examples_. Among all the multitudes who came to John

and were baptized of him in Jordan, there was _not a single infant_.

John required repentance and faith in the coming Messiah as an

indispensable prerequisite. He taught them that the _Father’s_ faith

would not avail in this new dispensation. ‘Think not to say unto

yourselves, we have Abraham for our father; but bring forth for

yourselves fruits suitable to repentance.’

“Those who were baptized by Jesus and his disciples, were also adult

believers, for the Pharisees heard that Jesus made and baptized more

disciples than John. He _made disciples_ before he baptized them. Of the

three thousand mentioned as added to the church upon the day of

Pentecost, there was _not one infant_, nor did they bring an infant with

them. Of the five thousand, a few days after, there was not one who was

not an adult believer. They were men and women. Of the great multitude

who believed and were baptized in Samaria when Philip preached, there

was not a single little child. The Evangelist expressly classes them all

under two heads, ‘both men and women.’ And nowhere, in a single case, is

there even an intimation that there was a child baptized, nor is any one

ever reproved for the neglect to have it done. Now if _this_ does not

absolutely exclude them by example, I do not see what force there is in

example. I reply to your argument, therefore, first, by proving that

even if infants had _not_ been _expressly excluded_, there would not be

the slightest warrant for their baptism; and, second, by showing that

they _were_ absolutely excluded, both by Christ’s command and the

practice of the early Christians.”

“Then,” said Mr. Johnson, “you are unwilling to believe that ‘baptism

has come in the room of circumcision,’ as I have been accustomed to

inform my people every time an infant has been baptized in my church for

twenty years.”

“Oh, no, Mr. Johnson—not at all. I am very willing to believe it—I may

almost say, I am very desirous to believe it. All I ask is that you will

give the _slightest Scripture proof_ of it. You are too good a

Protestant to ask me to take _your word_ for it, or even the often

repeated _assertions_ of all the clergy in the land. Give me _one text

of Scripture_ to prove it, and I am as ready and willing to believe as

even yourself can wish.”

“You know,” replied Mr. Johnson, “that we teach that baptism is

instituted by Christ—that it is a seal of the righteousness of faith,

and that the seed of the faithful have no less a right to this ordinance

under the Gospel than the seed of Abraham to circumcision under the Old

Testament.”

“Oh, yes—I know _you teach_ this. I have heard and read it a hundred

times: and I have no doubt most of our people think you have Scripture

to show for it. It is not enough, however, for me to know that _you_

teach it; I want that you should show me where the _Lord Jesus_ teaches

it, or where he authorizes _you_ to teach it. Where is it _said_ or even

_intimated_ ‘that the seed of the faithful have no less a right to this

ordinance under the Gospel than the seed of Abraham to circumcision

under the Old Testament?’ If it is in the Bible, you can show it. If I

read correctly, the seed of Abraham had a right, or rather were in duty

bound to circumcise their male children at eight days old, _because God

expressly commanded it_—to give the children of believers the _same

right_ to baptism would therefore require an _express commandment_ that

they should be baptized. But you know full well there _is no such_

command. I have heard a great deal of, to me, unintelligible jargon

about ‘federal holiness,’ and ‘covenant holiness,’ and the ‘covenant of

circumcision,’ and the ‘Abrahamic covenant,’ etc., etc. There may be a

great deal of sense and Scripture in it, but I can’t understand it. I

want a plain Scriptural statement of the facts. You say that baptism

came in the room of circumcision. Show me where the Word says so. Show

me any thing like it.”

“If you will take the Confession of Faith,” replied the Doctor of

Divinity, “and turn to the 147th page, you will see the texts upon which

this doctrine rests.”

“Well, here is a copy. Let us find them. This is coming to the point. If

any text is mentioned or referred to which gives to the _infant

children_ of believers the same claim to baptism that the descendants of

Abraham had to circumcision, or even intimates that baptism has come in

the room of circumcision, I am satisfied. This is all I want.”

The book was handed to the pastor, who found the page, 147, and read as

follows: “Gen. xvii. 7, 9, with Gal. iii. 9—‘And I will establish my

covenant between me and thee, and thy seed after thee, in their

generations, for an everlasting covenant; to be a God unto thee, and to

thy seed after thee. And God said unto Abraham, thou shalt keep my

covenant therefore, thou, and thy seed after thee, in their

generations.’”

“Stop a minute,” said the Professor. “Let me turn to the place in the

Bible. We will understand it better to read it in its connection. Here

it is, Gen. xvii. 7⁠–⁠9. Why did they leave out the 8th verse—‘And I

will give unto thee, and to thy seed after thee, the land wherein thou

art a stranger; all the land of Canaan, for an everlasting possession;

and I will be their God’? This makes it all very plain. God agreed with

Abraham that he would _give_ his seed the land of Canaan for a

possession forever; and as a condition, on the other part, he required

(see 10th verse) that every man child should be circumcised. I can

understand all that; but what has it to do with baptism or Christianity?

No more than the carrying of the bones of Joseph out of Egypt.”

“Oh, yes it has, Professor Jones, for we read in Gal. iii. 9—”

“Stop a minute, till I find the place. Now—but let me read it; I will

begin at the 6th verse: ‘Even as Abraham _believed_ God, and it was

counted unto him for righteousness. Know ye, therefore, that they _which

are of faith_, the same are the children of Abraham. And the Scripture,

foreseeing that God would justify the heathen _through faith_, preached

before the Gospel unto Abraham, saying, In thee shall all nations be

blessed.’ And now comes your proof-text—‘So then they which be of

_faith_, are blessed with faithful [believing] Abraham.’ Now, I think I

can understand this; but for the life of me I can’t see one word about

baptism in it, or of circumcision either. There is no more allusion to

either, than there is to the lifting up of the brazen serpent in the

wilderness, or the giving of the law on Sinai, or the falling down of

the walls of Jericho. Abraham _believed_ God. So Christians _believe_.

Abraham was _blessed_ for his _faith_. It was counted to him for

righteousness. So _we_, who believe, are also blessed with believing

Abraham; and that is all. There is surely no infant baptism here. What

is the next?”

“It is Romans iv. 11, 12: ‘And he received the sign of circumcision, a

seal of the righteousness of the faith which he had, being

uncircumcised; that he might be the father of all them that believe,

though they be not circumcised,’ etc.”

“I have it here,” said the Professor, as he found the chapter; “and to

understand the sense, I see it will be necessary to begin at the first

of the chapter. Paul is proving that justification is by _faith_, and

not by _works_. So he says even Abraham _believed_ (third verse), and it

was counted [or reckoned] unto him for righteousness; and in the tenth

verse, he asks, how was it reckoned? _before_ he was circumcised or

after? It was before. He had the faith, and he received the sign of

circumcision as a seal of the _righteousness_ of faith. And the Apostle

goes on to argue, that if faith was counted to _him_ for righteousness,

while he was yet uncircumcised, so it will be counted for righteousness

to all who believe in Christ, even though _they_ should not be

circumcised. But what has all this to do with baptism? The subject is

never mentioned or alluded to. The sentiment is the same which is

expressed in Galatians—Abraham believed, and believing, he was blessed.

So Christians, believing as he did, will like him be blessed; and thus

all believers may be counted as _his children in faith_. The only

allusion to circumcision here, is made to show that _it_ had nothing at

all to do with the blessedness of faith. To baptism there is no allusion

at all. If you will satisfy me that baptism has come in the room of

circumcision, so that the law of circumcision was transferred to

baptism, you must give me something better than this; and if there were

any thing better, the Confession of Faith would have quoted or referred

to it. I take it for granted, therefore, that these are the strongest

proof-texts you can present. And if they prove any thing at all, that

has any bearing whatever upon the point at issue, it is that _all_ the

members of a Christian church must of necessity be professed

_believers_. The seed of Abraham enjoyed certain blessings (the

possession of Canaan) in virtue of circumcision, but the _righteousness

of faith_ pertained to Abraham, as he was _un_circumcised, and now

belongs to those who are his children, not by circumcision, or by any

thing that came in the room of it, but by the same faith which he

exercised. Those who _believe_, and _only_ those, are to be partakers of

the blessing. Christianity is a _personal_, individual, and not a

_hereditary_ religion. In the New Dispensation, _every_ man stands on

_his own_ foundation, and is responsible for _himself_ to God.”

“I do not see,” replied the President, “why you should think it

necessary to have any Scripture to prove a familiar and notorious

_fact_. It is well known that circumcision was the _initiatory_

ordinance of the Jewish Church, and we all agree that baptism is the

initiatory ordinance into the Christian church. Of course, then, it

takes the place of the other. It bears the same relation to the

Christian, that the other did to the Jewish Church. _It is the door of

entrance._ Now, the church of God is, and has been in every age,

substantially _the same_, although existing under different names; and

consequently, the character of the persons admitted to membership must

have been the same. These persons among the Jews were admitted by

circumcision, and among Christians by baptism. They were the infant

children of church members among them; and so, of course, they must be

among us. We don’t need any express _text_ to prove this, for it is

self-evident from the general tenor of the whole Word.”

“Your argument,” replied Professor Jones, “is simply this: Infants were

members of the Jewish Church; and, as the church of God is always

substantially the same, they must be members of the Christian church.

The _door_ of entrance is changed, but there is no change in the

character of the persons who are to enter it.”

“Yes, that is precisely what I mean, Whatever other changes were made,

there was _no change in the membership_.”

“Then,” said the Professor, “you mean precisely what is certainly not

true. Jesus Christ, when he commanded the _new_ door to be opened,

commanded also that different persons should _enter_ it. To the Jews he

said, bring in your male children and servants at eight days old. To

Christians he says, bring all who _believe_ in the blessed Gospel which

I send you to preach. If he made the one change, he just as clearly made

the other. Believers—as Mr. Johnson and I have seen in our examination

of the word—he plainly commands to be baptized; but he commands _no

others_, and no others ever were baptized in all the history which the

New Testament records. Neither is it true that Christianity is

_substantially the same_ as Judaism. It was one of the most earnest

labors of Paul to explain and enforce the difference. This difference

was substantial—it was fundamental—it was constitutional. The other was

a religion of _works_; this is one of faith. That was one of outward

forms; this of inward affections. That consisted of the whole Jewish

nation, both the evil and good; this is confined to the truly converted.

That was a national establishment, and this an assembly of true

believers, from which all are to be excluded but the pious in heart and

the holy in life. This substantial and fundamental change, we, as

Presbyterians, recognize in fact, though we deny it in theory. We _say_

that infants are church members, but we do not, in this: country,

_treat_ them as such; we do not _address_ them as such; we do not, in

fact, consider them as such. You, in your preaching, are continually

urging the baptized children who have come to years of discretion, ‘to

come out from _the world_;’ and when they are converted, you urge them

_to join the church_. It is true that, by the Confession of Faith (p.

504), you are required to inform them ‘that it is their duty and their

privilege to come to the Lord’s Supper,’ whether they give evidence of

conversion or not, provided only that they are intelligent and moral.

But you _never do it_; and half our members would not believe that we

have any such rule. In other countries, however, this is done. Our

theory is carried out into practice, and the church is filled with

unconverted men and women. This is the legitimate result of infant

church-membership.”

“I am very sorry,” rejoined the pastor, “to hear you talk in this way. I

fear you are preparing great trouble for us, and are about to bring down

terrible sorrow upon your own head and that of your family. I had hoped,

for the honor of our beloved church, that you would have thought better

of these things. We have, however, done our duty. The Session deputed us

to reason the case with you, and endeavor to convince you of your

errors; but we find that you _will not be convinced_. Let us hope,

however, that you will consider further, and carefully weigh the

unanswerable arguments which we have presented, and let them have their

full influence upon your mind. There may be more dependent on it than

you are aware of. I suppose it is not worth while to spend more time

upon the subject; so we will bid you good-night.”

Professor Jones understood very well the ominous import of this parting

address. He knew that his home, his employment, his all, depended on the

will of a few men, some of whom would take pleasure in rendering his

condition as wretched as possible, so soon as they had no further hope

of binding him to themselves. And he knew, on the other hand, that those

to whom he would go, had neither influence to aid him, or profitable

employment to furnish him the means of support. As soon as the reverend

committee had retired, he fell upon his knees, and offered up to God his

thanks, that thus far he had not been tempted to deny his truth, or

falsify the solemn convictions of his conscience. And then, in view of

what he now began to feel would be inevitable, he prayed for strength to

obey all the Master’s will, and trust God for the consequences:

“Oh, my God! I see before me nothing but trouble and sorrow. Want and

affliction stare me in the face. Lord, give me strength to welcome them,

or at least, firmly to endure them. Thou canst bring good out of evil. I

commit my destiny into thy hands. I have trusted my _immortal soul_ to

thee; why may I not trust my body and my family? Thou hast promised to

save the one and to provide for the others. Help my unbelief! I must go

out like Abraham, not knowing whither I go. I look to thee, my Father in

heaven, to open the way before me.”

As he was rising from his knees, the remark of Theodosia, as she came

from the water with her face so full of heavenly joy, came back to his

mind with tenfold force and beauty—“Uncle, dear uncle! it is _blessed to

obey_! Can’t you give up _all_ for Christ?”

“Yes, yes,” he unconsciously exclaimed, “I will—I do give up all. I will

follow where duty leads, let the consequence be what it may. I will

resign my professorship to-morrow. God will provide in some way for my

wife and children.”

The conversation which we have recorded took place in his private study.

On returning to his family room, he was delighted to find there his

sister, Mrs. Ernest, and her daughter, and also, Mr. Courtney, who had

called to have a little conversation with Theodosia, and finding they

were about to start out, had accompanied them on their visit.

Mrs. Jones had been so anxious about the result of the conference with

the committee, that she could not enjoy the society of her visitors, nor

even exert herself successfully for their entertainment. She was,

therefore, greatly relieved when her husband came in and took that task

upon himself.

“I wish I had known that you and Theo. were here,” said he, “I would

have turned the reverend committee who have just left me over to you.”

“I do not understand what you mean,” said Mr. Courtney.

“Only this. My brethren in the Church Session have learned that I do not

any longer believe that sprinkling is baptism, or that any but believers

are to be baptized. And they have deputized Dr. McNought and Pastor

Johnson to endeavor to bring me back into a belief of their human

traditions. Their main argument at this time was on the baptism of

infants as founded on the usage of the Jews. Baptism, they said, has

come in the room of circumcision; and as infants were circumcised, so

infants must be baptized. What answer would you have made?”

“I would have said: Gentlemen, you do not _yourselves believe_ that

baptism came in the room of circumcision in any such sense that the same

order of persons who were circumcised are to be baptized; or, if you

_believe_ it, you do not act _out_ your faith. The law of circumcision

included only males, but you baptize both males and females. The child,

when it was _possible_, was to be circumcised at eight days old, but you

baptize at any other time. The servants and the slaves, whether old or

young, whether born in their house or bought with their money, were to

be circumcised, but you never baptize them—but only the children. They

were to be circumcised by the parents and not by the priest; but you

require baptism to be done by the minister. If the law of circumcision

is transferred to baptism in _one_ particular (without any New Testament

authority) it is equally transferred in all the others.

“Then I would have said further: Baptism _could_ not come in the room of

circumcision, because _circumcision is still in force_. No room was ever

made for the second by taking away the first. The truth is simply this:

God made a covenant or agreement with Abraham, when he was ninety-nine

years old, in which he promised to his seed the land of Canaan. The

token or memento of this contract was the circumcision of every male.

This was the condition of their entering Canaan. This is now the

condition of their restoration to it. The promise still stands. The Jews

are still a separate people. This is their _mark_. By this they are yet

to claim their inheritance. This is its object, and this the sum of its

value. The covenant has not been revoked. It is still in force and its

seal or token still remains.

“God made with Abraham _another_ covenant some twenty-four years

earlier, in which he promised him, among other things, ‘That in his seed

should all the nations of the earth be blessed.’—Gen. xii. 3. This is

what Paul refers to when he says, Gal. iii. 8—‘The Gospel was preached

unto Abraham, and Abraham believed it.’ He trusted in the Christ to

come, and so was, in a certain sense, a member of Christ’s church. So

was Noah—so was Enoch—so were all who like Abraham believed God, and it

was counted unto them for righteousness. They were not introduced into

it by _circumcision_—nor was Abraham himself—for it was twenty-four

years after he heard and believed the Gospel, before he was circumcised.

He was a member of Christ’s mystical body, and an heir of the _heavenly_

Canaan, without the seal of circumcision. By _it_ he and his seed became

the heirs of the _earthly_ Canaan. This was its object, and no more. The

blessings of the Gospel are to us, as to him, the result of _personal

faith_. Thus, they who are of faith, are blessed with [believing]

faithful Abraham; and thus far, and no further, this first-made covenant

with Abraham extends to us. If we believe as he believed, we shall be

blessed as he was blessed. This is all that any one can make out of all

that is said of the relationship of the Patriarch and believers.

“I should have said to them further: Gentlemen, _you_ call the Jewish

_nation_ the church of God, and tell us that the Christian church is the

same under a different dispensation. But Christ calls that nation _the

world_, in opposition to his church. The disciples to whom Christ spake,

John xv. 19, were men in good and regular standing in the Jewish nation,

which you call the church. Yet Christ says, I have chosen you _out of

the world_—and therefore the world, that is, the Jewish nation, hateth

you. Paul was not only a member, but an _eminent_ member of this Jewish

body; but he says that _he was a persecutor of the CHURCH OF GOD_.

Nicodemus was a ‘master in Israel;’ but Christ told him he could not

come into _his church_ till he had been born again. The Jews needed

conversion as much as any, before they could make any portion of the

_church_ of God. This church God set up for the _first_ time when John

began to preach. For the first time he organized a visible assembly of

penitent, believing, holy persons. There were good men, pious, devoted

men and women, among the Jews; but they were not gathered into _a

church_. The Jewish nation had some religious privileges; but it was not

in the Gospel sense _a church_. And when Christ established his church,

he made the terms of membership such as were intended to preserve its

purity and separation from all national politics. People were not to be

born into it, but to enter it by _faith and baptism_. ‘He that believeth

and is baptized.’ But by the introduction of infant baptism, the object

of this arrangement is entirely defeated.”

“I have often thought,” said Theodosia, “since my attention has been

directed to the subject, what disastrous consequences must follow if the

theory of Pedobaptism were fully carried out, and infants actually

recognized and treated as members of the visible church.”

“If you would fully realize what the consequences would be, you have

only to go to those States of Europe where this is actually done. You

will see men who blaspheme their Maker on the way to church, go and

partake of the Holy Supper. You will see them leave the church where

they have so partaken, and openly resort to the ball room, the horse

race, the drinking saloon, the gambling house, the cock pit, and even to

the very lowest and vilest haunts of dissipation. They are members of

the church. They were made such at eight days old. When they could say

the catechism they were confirmed, and informed, according to the

directions of the Presbyterian Confession of Faith, that ‘it is their

duty and their privilege to come to the Lord’s table.’ To be baptized in

infancy and confirmed in childhood, are all that is needful to church

membership. That _faith_ required by the Gospel, they laugh at. They

call those who profess to know any thing about it in their own

experience, deluded enthusiasts. They know no more of religion than its

external ceremonies. They have the form of godliness, but deny the

power. Such was the Presbyterian Church to which Dr. Carson preached in

the North of Ireland. ‘In the general disregard of religion,’ says his

biographer, ‘the people of his charge were not behind their neighbors.

Horse races, cock fights, and other forms of sinful diversion were

frequent, and were numerously attended even by professing Christians.

The soul of this pious servant of God was deeply grieved. He knew well

the heaven-born excellence of Christianity, and clearly understood what

should be the fruits of the Spirit, but he beheld around him only the

works of the devil. He rode into the throng that crowded the

race-course, and saw there the members of his own church flying in every

direction to escape his sight.’ … ‘His church was composed of worldly

people, whom neither force nor persuasion could bring into subjection to

the Laws of Christ.’ In Germany and some other European States, _every

body_ is in the church. Every body is recognized as a church member.

Thieves, gamblers, drunkards, and prostitutes are members of the church.

There is no such thing as the world. The church has swallowed it up. It

has taken all the infidelity, all the atheism, all the blasphemy, all

the vice, and all the depravity of the world into its own bosom. This is

the natural and necessary result of receiving all the _infants_ as

church members. The church has ceased to be the body of Christ, and has

become a loathsome mass of hypocrisy and vice. There may be in it some

few good and pious believers in Jesus. There are in it many upright, and

honorable, and moral citizens: but these, as _church members_, are not

at all to be distinguished from the basest profligates that issue forth

from the recking stews of infamy. They have all alike been baptized in

infancy and confirmed in childhood, without _any profession of

conversion to God_—most of them denying the necessity of any such

change, and all sit down alike to the same table of the Lord.”

“Surely, Mr. Courtney, you do not mean to speak thus of the _Protestant_

churches of Europe! I know it is true in regard to the Catholics; but

since the Reformation, it cannot be true of any others.”

“Yes, Mrs. Jones, I mean to say this of the Protestant churches,

wherever they have become _national_ churches, and by the process of

infant baptism have absorbed the whole population. It is _necessarily_

true of _any_ church which receives its members in this way. It would be

true in _this_ country, if you Presbyterians, and the Episcopalians, and

Lutherans, and Methodists could by any means accomplish what you all so

earnestly are laboring to attain—viz.: to induce _all the people_ to

have their children baptized.”

“Oh, no, Mr. Courtney. You must have conceived a terribly mistaken idea

of what we are all aiming at. We desire, I trust, as much as the

Baptists themselves, to keep our churches _pure_, and are as strict in

our terms of membership and as rigid in our discipline as _you_ are. We

want our churches to consist, as they now do, of godly people, and would

not for a day permit such as you have mentioned to remain in our

communion.”

“I know it, Mrs. Jones; but in order to do this you are obliged

continually to repudiate your own acts, and deny in practice what you

teach in theory. I was speaking of what the result must be, provided you

could induce all the people to have their infants baptized, and should

then recognize these baptized ones as church members _in fact_, as you

do in _theory_.

“Listen one minute, and I will satisfy you that what I say is strictly

true. You teach that, as circumcision was the door of entrance into the

Jewish Church, so baptism is the door of entrance into the church of

Christ. If so, all who are baptized are church members. Now, _you

Presbyterians_ say all the children of _believing parents_ must be

baptized. In your churches you baptize all the children of those parents

who have been baptized. The Episcopalians baptize _any_ child for whom

proper sponsors will stand. The Methodists will baptize _all_ the

children, with or without believing parents. Now, if you could succeed

(as by sermons, books, tracts, and newspapers you are all striving to

do) in convincing all the people that you are right, and prevail upon

them to bring _all_ their children, and have them thus initiated into

the church of Christ—I ask you of whom, _in the next generation_, would

the church consist? It would be composed of these infants, then grown to

manhood. If that generation be like the present, or the past, it will

consist mostly of unregenerate men and women. A few will be

converted—many will be moral—most will be wicked, and many will be most

vile. They will all, however, have entered into the church of Jesus

Christ by the door of baptism, and will every one be members of Christ’s

visible kingdom.”

“Oh, no, Mr. Courtney; we would exclude the wicked and unworthy by

process of discipline.”

“Who would exercise discipline, Mrs. Jones? This would be a body of

_unregenerate_ men. They would have no love to Christ or his cause. The

power of discipline is in their own hands. If they exclude all that do

not give evidence of piety, they will exclude themselves. They will do

no such thing. They may exclude the _openly_ and _scandalously vicious_,

for the reputation of their denomination, while there are several sects

striving for the supremacy; but if (as in those countries I spoke of)

any one sect could swallow up the rest, and by connection with the State

become the _national religion_, then a man would hold his right to the

Lord’s Supper, and all the privileges of the church, by about the same

tenure that he held his right to vote or to exercise any other privilege

of citizenship.”

“But if this is so, Mr. Courtney, why don’t we see at least some

illustrations of the principle among us now? Why are not _our_ churches

now filled with unconverted men and women?”

“Simply because you don’t act out your principles. Your churches _are_

filled with unbelievers, but you refuse to recognize them. You daily

repudiate your own acts, and continually falsify your own theory. You

baptize infants, and you _say_ you do it _to introduce them into the

church of Christ_. But you _don’t believe it_. You never treat them as

church members. You give them none of the privileges of church members.

You don’t count them in the list of your church members. They do not

regard themselves as church members. They do not claim or enjoy any of

the privileges of membership. They do not exercise the discipline of the

church on others, nor are they considered subjects for its discipline.

They are practically as separate from the church as the children of an

infidel or a Hottentot. It is thus, and _only_ thus, that you retain any

degree of purity in your actual membership. Your church consists _in

fact_, of believers, and not, as your book says, of ‘believers and their

children.’ You thus obviate one of the evils of infant baptism, by a

virtual repudiation of the act and regarding it in practice as a

nullity. Mrs. Ernest does not look upon her son Edwin as a member of the

church. She did not consider you a member, Miss Theodosia, till about a

year ago, when you professed your faith in Christ, and as they all

expressed it, ‘_joined the church_.’ How could you be said to _join_ it,

if up to that time you had not been considered as _separate_ from it?

The baptized children are urged, like others, to come out _from the

world_, and to _unite_ with the people of God, when they have believed

in Christ; and those who have thus _believed_, and made themselves a

public profession of their faith, you count as members; and to them and

them alone you give the privileges of members. And this simple fact,

that you are obliged to treat the baptized infants, _when_ they grow up,

as though they had not been baptized at all, in order to preserve the

spirituality and purity of the church, is of itself sufficient proof

that your celebrated historian, Neander, tells the truth when he says

‘It is certain that Christ did not ordain infant baptism.’”

“Well, Mr. Courtney,” replied Professor Jones, “is there any other

argument you would have urged upon the attention of my reverend

visitors, had you been present?”

“Yes, sir. I would have said further: Gentlemen, if you found infant

baptism on Jewish circumcision; if you declare, that the Christian and

the Jewish Church are the same, but only under different dispensations;

and that because infants were circumcised in the old, infants must be

baptized in the new, how can you get rid of the necessity for a

_national_ church? The Jewish Church was a national church: it united

Church and State. The Christian is the same, and _it_ must consequently

be a national establishment too. We must unite the Church and State. For

this, every Christian should strive. Of this union, where it exists, no

Christian should complain; for there is certainly as much Scriptural

authority for it as there is for infant baptism. And further, gentlemen,

you must receive and recognize not merely three orders of the ministry,

like the Episcopalians; not merely deacons, priests, and bishops, but

also a grand and supreme ruler of them all, similar to the Pope. The

Jewish polity had its common priests, its chief priests—who controlled

certain numbers of the others—and its _High_ Priest, who was above them

all. So, to correspond, there should be the Presbyters, the Bishops, and

the Archbishops, if not the Pope. This has quite as much, and the same

sort of Scriptural authority as infant baptism. To this, they would have

replied, by saying, that the constitution of the Christian church is to

be found in the _New Testament_, and that we learn what its officers

were, by seeing what ones were ordered or recognized by Christ and the

Apostles; and they neither commanded nor recognized but _one_ order of

ministers. This is good logic, I do not object to it. But I ask if the

_membership_ of the Christian church is not designated in the New

Testament even more clearly than its _officers_? If baptism is the door

of entrance, show me a single instance where any one is permitted, much

less commanded, to enter in upon the faith of any but himself. Show me

any instance in which an infant was received, or ordered to be received;

any in which one was recognized as a church member, or even where there

was the slightest allusion to him as such. They cannot find one; and so,

upon their own principles, must take the whole paraphernalia of

Episcopacy, and Church and State, or give up infant baptism.”

“But, Mr. Courtney, as you say that among us Presbyterians in this

country, infant baptism is a _mere nullity_, as we don’t count the

baptized as church members, or give up the discipline of the church into

their hands; as they have, in fact, no more to do with the church than

other people, and cannot, therefore, injure its standing or diminish its

spirituality, what _harm can it do_ to baptize infants?”

“What harm! Alas! madam, I am incompetent to tell the thousandth part of

the harm that it has done, is doing, and will continue to do so long as

it is practiced. Pardon me, if I decline attempting to answer your

question.”

“Well then, if you can’t tell what harm it does, why do you talk so much

against it?”

“I can’t tell! Oh, yes, but I _can_ tell. I can tell so much that you

would not have the patience to hear. I can tell such things of it, that

you would almost think it impolite to mention. And that is, in truth,

the reason why I felt disposed to decline a proper reply to your

question. If I should speak of this act, which _you_ perform as a

religious _duty_, as I think it deserves, I should characterize it as a

_heinous sin_, an act of daring rebellion against God; and this you

would think scarcely becoming in me as your guest. If I should tell you

all the harm I know of infant baptism, instead of convincing, I should

probably make you angry. You have been so long accustomed to look upon

it as something sacred and holy, that you could hardly avoid feeling

indignant at hearing what I, after careful and prayerful study of the

subject, have come to think of it.”

“I don’t see how you could say much worse things about it than you have

already; but I assure you that I will keep my temper, let you say what

you may. So you may consider yourself as having full license to say to

me in my own house, any thing that you would feel at liberty to say to

me or any one any where else.”

“Yes,” rejoined Mrs. Ernest, “do go on and tell us all you think about

it. I have some curiosity to understand just what you Baptists do think

of us Presbyterians. I know you have a very mean opinion of us, but I

would like to know just how mean it is.”

“Go on, Courtney; you have the ladies’ curiosity excited now, and you

will be obliged to gratify it. If you don’t _tell_ what you think, they

will imagine it is something very horrible indeed. For myself, I am

satisfied now that it is a thing _not commanded_, and therefore I would

not practice it; but I don’t see what great _harm_ there is in it. It is

a simple ceremony, and if not required, a very _useless_ one; but I

don’t see who is hurt by it. We are, however, all of us prepared now to

hear hard things from the Baptists. We don’t look for any thing else.”

“I should be very sorry to believe that Baptists were accustomed to say

hard things _of_ their opponents, whatever they may feel it their duty

to say _to_ them. Mrs. Ernest thinks I have a very mean opinion of

Presbyterians. She is utterly mistaken. Many of the best and most

earnest-hearted children of God whom I have ever known are

Presbyterians. I not only esteem them highly, I love them dearly. I love

them not only as Individuals, but as Christians. I count them my

brethren and my sisters in the Lord; but at the same time, I think they

have been educated in error, and are in some things most grossly

deceived. They are to that extent wrong in their faith, and wrong in

their practice. The more I love them, the more I would rejoice to set

them right. I hate error and wrong in them as in others. I oppose it; I

reason against it; I denounce it in them as well as in others. It is not

their persons, but their _opinions_ that I war against. In most cases, I

do not even esteem them less for holding these erroneous opinions; for I

know they are sincere and conscientious. They have been deceived by

those who have instructed them. They have never had the truth laid

fairly before their minds. Early education, denominational attachments,

and prejudices have enveloped their intellects in such a cloud, that it

is hard for the clear light of Scripture truth to find its way into

their hearts. I was as honest and sincere when I believed that

sprinkling was baptism, and that infants were to be baptized, as I am

now. So was Miss Theodosia. Nor were we suddenly convinced that we were

wrong. The light shone in little by little. What was at first a doubt,

became a certainty by patient investigation. It is not long since I

said, as you do—infant baptism is not commanded. It is not authorized by

the Word of God, but still it is only a useless ceremony. Let those who

will, engage in it. No good is done; but yet it does no harm. Since that

time, I have studied the subject more carefully. The more I looked at

it, the more fearful it appeared. And I am now fully convinced, that he

who baptizes an infant in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,

_is guilty of a most enormous sin in the sight of God_! And this is not

less true because good men have done it, and are doing it still. Good

men have often been ignorantly guilty of most enormous crimes. That

excellent and holy man of God, Rev. John Newton, was for years after his

conversion engaged in the slave trade. It was then considered a

reputable and righteous business. Many good men of the past generation

were engaged in the manufacture and sale of intoxicating drinks. It was

then considered a legitimate and Christian calling. No good man will

engage in it now. Their ignorance was their excuse. God forgave them as

he did Paul for persecuting his people—because he did it ignorantly, and

verily thought he was doing God service. His conscientious sincerity did

not, however, make the act a righteous one. The deed was still one of

terrible wickedness and daring impiety. So I say of those who practice

infant baptism; so I would say _to_ them if I could. They may be good

men. Some of them are good men—earnest, warm-hearted, devoted

Christians; but they are ignorantly _sinning against God_. It may not be

becoming in me to _reprove_ men older, and better, and more useful than

myself; but surely I may entreat them, as my brethren and fathers, to do

‘_no more so wickedly_.’”

“But what is there so wicked about it, Mr. Courtney?”

“Much every way. In the first place, if you will excuse me for talking

so plainly, _infant baptism, as practiced by Presbyterians in this

country, is a continually repeated falsehood_!

“You _say_ that ‘baptism is a sacrament of the New Testament, ordained

by Jesus Christ, not only for the _solemn admission_ of the party

baptized into the visible church, but also to be unto him a sign and

seal of the covenant of grace, of his ingrafting into Christ, of

regeneration, of _remission of sins_, and of his giving up unto God,

through Jesus Christ, to walk in newness of life.’—_Con. of Faith_, p.

144.

“Now, this is either true or false. If it is _true_, then the person

baptized _is admitted_ into the visible church of Christ. You say it is

true, and that you _do thus admit_ him; but, at the same time, if I

point you to one of these members thus received in infancy, staggering

from the grog-shop, and ask you if he is a member, you tell me—_No_. You

would be ashamed to think that such a wretch had any connection with

your church. Is his father a member? Yes, one of the best men in the

church. Did he have his children baptized? Yes, I suppose he did. Has

this man ever been excluded? No, you reply, he never _joined_ the

church. He grew up a wild and reckless boy, and has always been a

vicious, dissipated man. He was never in the church; nobody ever thought

of such a thing. There is an amiable young lady, moral, irreproachable

in her character; but she makes no pretensions to _religion_—she is

perfectly indifferent to it. Is _she_ a member of your church? Oh, no;

our members are all spiritual-minded Christians. She has never even

expressed a conviction of sin, or even the slightest desire to join the

church. Why do you ask if she is a member? Simply because I remember

when she was _baptized_. Does not baptism admit persons into the visible

church? Yes; but we never _consider_ them as members till they make a

profession of religion and join the church again. Then your baptism is a

solemn falsehood, for it does not admit into the church at all.

“But now, if you take the other horn of the dilemma, and say we _do_

admit them—then I reply, you are guilty of introducing into the church

of Christ wicked and unregenerate men and women. If you recognize them

as members, and treat them as members, you at once destroy the

distinction between the church and the world. The church no longer is

Christ’s kingdom. It is no more a body of _his_ people. It consists, in

part at least, of the wicked and profligate _descendants_ of his people.

“But you say, further, that baptism is to the baptized ‘a sign and a

seal of his ingrafting into Christ’—‘of his regeneration’—and of

‘remission of his sins,’ etc. Now this is true or it is false. You _say_

it is true. A mother brings her babe to have it sprinkled. It is a

beautiful child, and she verily thinks she is doing God service—and is,

herself, a lovely object, as she stands there with the infant in her

arms. But now I ask you, Is that child ‘regenerated’? Is he a ‘branch

ingrafted into Christ’? Are all his ‘sins forgiven’? In other words, is

he a _believer_ in Jesus Christ? You say—_No_, it is absurd to think of

such a thing. Then, I reply, your baptism _is a falsehood_—for it is

designed to signify and seal these things, which, in this subject, do

not and cannot exist. To a _believer_ in Christ, baptism has all this

significancy; but to an unconscious babe it can have none at all. There

is not, in fact, in your minds, the slightest suspicion that the child

is born again and ingrafted into Christ; and yet you say to the world,

that this ordinance is designed to signify and seal the fact that such

is actually the case.

_“Is it no harm thus, in the house of God, as a religious act, and in

the very name of Jesus, to proclaim such practical falsehoods to the

world?”_

“I declare, I had never thought of it in that light before. Have you any

other charge to make against it?”

“Yes; I say, in the next place, that _the baptism of an infant is an act

of high-handed rebellion against the Son of God_.”

Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Ernest both lifted up their hands in utter

astonishment. The former looked at him as though she expected to see him

drop down dead after making what seemed to her such an impious

announcement.

“That is the most astounding statement,” said the Professor. “But I know

you would not make it, unless you thought you had the evidence to

sustain it.”

“What!” said Mrs. Jones, “The evidence to prove that it is

_wicked!_—positively _wicked!_ to baptize a child; an act of

rebellion!—high-handed rebellion! Well, I will try to be quiet, just to

see what the man can say. Go on, Mr. Courtney; we are all attention.”

“Yes,” resumed Mr. C., “I have said it; and I will prove that it is not

only _rebellion_, but rebellion attended with such circumstances as mark

it with a character of peculiar malignancy. Not only a sin, but a

_terrible_ sin; most flagrant in itself, and most terrific in its

consequences to the church and to the world.”

“Really,” said Mrs. Jones, “I am curious to know how you will make it

out.”

“You know,” said Mr. C., “that you Presbyterians are accustomed to count

some requirements of Christ as essential, and some as non-essential—or,

at least, less essential than others. Now when Christ came into the

world, _one_ great object, if not _the_ great object of his mission, was

to establish his visible church. He set it up himself. He instructed his

disciples carefully in the nature of its laws, and especially those

organic or constitutional laws which lie at the very foundation of the

whole superstructure. To _these_ laws especially he must have attached

great importance. Willful disobedience to these fundamental rules, which

regulated and fixed the very _nature_ of the visible kingdom he

established, must have been regarded by him as a rebellion of no common

order. Now the _most important_ of these fundamental rules was that

which fixed the terms of membership in his kingdom. This lay at the

foundation of the whole business. The character, the influence, the

prosperity of his new kingdom, must depend upon the character of the

persons of whom it was composed. Now the Jewish kingdom, though it had

in it much of good, and was a beautiful type of better things to come,

yet it had included more of the evil than the good. In it the wicked

dwelt in the land, and the righteous were among them. But now Christ was

organizing not a _temporal_, but a _spiritual_ kingdom. His dominion was

to be one of interior rule—by the power of love. The subjects of this

kingdom were to be _converted men and women_, who loved God and lived to

his glory. No one could belong to it, as he told Nicodemus, who had not

_been born again_. This was his church. It was designed to be a

permanent and living illustration of the power and the purity of his

religion. The members of this church were to be his living epistles,

known and read of all, describing the nature and results of his religion

in their hearts and lives. No fact is more clearly evident than this.

The church is not only commanded to be holy—exhorted to be holy—but it

is said to be holy, and addressed as though it was thus holy. It is

always and everywhere regarded as a body of professedly converted men

and women. As many as were baptized into Christ had put on Christ. They

were those who trusted in Christ. They walked by faith. They lived, but

not they—it was Christ that lived in them. They had been sinners, but

were called to be saints, and now had an inheritance among them that

were sanctified. They were a peculiar people, zealous of good works. Not

of the world, not like the world, for Christ had chosen them out of the

world. Such was the church as he established it, and such he intended it

should continue to the end of time. Now to secure to it this character,

he determined that none should be admitted into it but those who

repented of sin, and believed on him with saving faith. The door of

entrance into this church was by the ordinance of baptism. Consequently,

when any one repented and believed, and gave evidence that he was born

again, he was to be baptized, and henceforth counted among his people.

The very nature of the church, and the object of its establishment,

required that _no others should ever be admitted_. How then, I ask, can

he look without abhorrence and indignation upon _that act_, in which a

minister of this church—claiming to act by his authority—subverts the

very foundation of his church, changes its nature, and defeats the very

object of its establishment, by introducing into it, knowingly and

willfully, persons who are confessedly not penitents, not believers, not

regenerate, but the children of wrath even as others.

“If baptism converted them—if by the act itself they were

regenerated—there would be some excuse for this course; but no one of

_you_ will pretend to believe that it has any such influence. You know

that a baptized child grows up a sinner, just as his unbaptized brother

does. _Doctors of Divinity_ talk about such things; but no man or woman

of common sense believes that the sprinkling of a little water on a

baby’s face changes its heart, and makes it a new creature in Christ

Jesus. If it is introduced by this act into Christ’s visible church, it

comes in a sinner, as it is born; it comes in an unconverted,

impenitent, and unbelieving sinner—just such a sinner as Christ forbade

his ministers ever to introduce. And now what is the consequence? Let us

look at the history of the church. It is enough to make one who loves

Jesus and his cause weep tears of blood, to see what have been the

results of this rebellious departure from the instructions of the

Master. For the first two or three hundred years the church remained

what Christ intended. It was a body of professed believers. All history

accords to its members a character of singular uprightness and purity.

It was a light shining in darkness. But when infants, instead of

converts, began to be introduced, its whole character was changed. Its

spirituality was gone. Its very ministers were worldly men, contending

for wealth, and place, and power. In the course of a few generations, it

had, like the national churches of Europe of the present day, swallowed

up the world. All the villainy and depravity of the land was in the

church, or in that establishment that _called itself_ the church of

Jesus Christ. No Pagan, not even the tiger-hearted Nero himself, was so

cruel in his persecution of the Christians, as this body of baptized

infants became when it grew up to manhood, and was invested with the

power to kill. Nothing which the most infernal hatred could suggest, and

the most diabolical ingenuity could invent, was thought too hard for

these baptized ones to inflict upon those who professed faith in Christ,

yet would not conform to their newly introduced rites and ceremonies.

The most bitter and relentless persecution was directed especially

against those who denied infant baptism. This has continued through

every age. It has not been confined to the Roman Catholics. It has been

practiced by all the so-called churches _that received infant members

_(your own included) whenever and wherever they have been able to obtain

the power. The world has been deluged with the blood of the saints, shed

by these members of the church, whom men, professing to be _his

ministers_, have, in his name, though against his authority, introduced

in their infancy. Now I say, the act which thus subverts the very nature

of the church of Christ, and leads to such terrific consequences, _is no

common sin_. Such perversion of the very fundamental law of his church

is no common rebellion. It is a great and terrible crime. It has led to

great and terrible results even in the present world. Its consequences,

even here, have been so terrific, that our very hearts shudder but to

think of them; what they may be in the eternal world, we cannot

conceive.

“But I will go further. I said ‘the baptism of an infant was a _sin_—an

act of high-handed _rebellion_ against God.’ I have proved it. I will

now say even more than this. _Infant baptism is impious_—it is an act of

sacrilege.”

“Be careful, Mr. Courtney, be careful|” exclaimed Mrs. Jones. “This is a

solemn subject. You should not thoughtlessly make use of words which

convey such horrible impressions.”

“I _am_ careful, Mrs. Jones. I have chosen these words deliberately,

because they are the only words that will fully express my meaning. I

mean to say that it is _impious_ for a professed minister of Jesus

Christ to stand up in the presence of the world, and in HIS name, and by

HIS authority, perform, as a solemn and sacred ordinance of HIS

religion, an act which HE NEVER COMMANDED OR AUTHORIZED! I regard it as

a fixed fact, that there is no such commandment or authority. We have

been searching for it carefully; we cannot find it. It is not in the

book. And now the question comes up—‘Even if it be not commanded, what

_harm_ is there in it?’ This is the question we are endeavoring to

answer. I say, _If God has not commanded it or authorized it, then to

perform it as an ordinance of HIS religion, in HIS name, and by HIS

professed authority, is an act of impious sacrilege!_ It can be nothing

less. I know your preachers do not so _intend_ it; I know that they

would shudder at the very thought. They verily believe _they_ have the

authority. They do it _ignorantly_, as Paul persecuted the church. But

though their ignorance may, in a degree, excuse their conduct, it does

not change the nature of the act. And for one who has studied the

subject, who has looked for the authority and failed to find it, as we

have, for such a one thus, in the name of God, to do what God has not

required, must require a degree of temerity which I trust few of the

professed ministers of Christ possess.”

“I declare, Mr. Courtney, it fills me with a sort of horror to hear you

talk. I am almost sorry I insisted on your saying any thing about this

subject. I don’t and can’t believe that what you say is true. And yet I

shall never be able again to see an infant baptized without a feeling of

terror.”

“But why can’t you believe that I tell the truth? Have I not proved

every position by the Word of God?”

“Oh, as to that, any body can prove almost any thing they please by the

Scriptures. Unitarians, and Universalists, and Methodists, and

Episcopalians, and all sorts of people, find plenty of proof in the

Bible for all they teach.”

“Then how are God’s people to know what he requires of them?”:

“Well, I don’t see as we _can_ know with any certainty. I have been

raised a Presbyterian, and taught that they were right; and I believe I

had as soon risk my soul on their faith as any other. I don’t see as I

need to give myself much trouble about it.”

“You do not deny, Mrs. Jones, that you ought to obey God rather than

man, and that the Scriptures are a perfect and infallible rule of faith

and practice?”

“Oh, no, I grant that; but the difficulty is, that I can’t understand

just what they teach. If I could know what they require, I must believe

and do it. But Mr. Johnson tells me one thing, and you tell me another,

and the Methodist tells me another; and between you all, I don’t know

really what I must believe or do.”

“I will tell you, then. God will hold _you_ responsible for _your own_

faith and practice. You are not, therefore, to rely on me, or the

Methodists, or on Mr. Johnson, but you are to go to the Bible for

_yourself_. If there is any command to baptize infants there, you can

find it, and you can read and understand it as well as a Doctor of

Divinity. Do not take for granted that what they say or what I say is

true, but _search the Scriptures_ for yourself. Make use of all the

helps you can, but don’t let any one convince you that any doctrine is

taught, or any practice required, by the Word, till _you can see it in

the Word_. You will not find the teachings of the Scriptures to be

either doubtful or contradictory when you go to _them_, and are

_willing_ to believe and practice just what they teach. Doctors of

Divinity may contradict each other and themselves, but God’s Word is not

a book of doubtful oracles. It speaks plainly; it speaks decidedly; and

it speaks always the same thing. Try it yourself with reference to this

subject. Your pastor tells you that he has authority in the New

Testament to baptize infants. Ask him to _show it to you_. If it is

there, he can find it. You can see it as well as he can. He will,

perhaps, refer you to the commission, Go baptize, etc.; but you will

say, this is only a commission to baptize _believers_. It does not say a

word about believers _and their children_, but only about believers. He

will then remind you that Jesus said, Suffer the little ones to come

unto me, etc. You will reply, they did not come to be _baptized_, but to

be _prayed_ for: ‘And he laid his hands on them, and departed.’ This is

good authority to _pray_ for children, and to devote them to God by

faith, and seek his blessing on them, but none for baptizing them. He

will then remind you that Peter says, ‘the promise is to you and to your

children.’ You will reply, this is a promise of the ‘gift of the Holy

Ghost,’ not of baptism; and, moreover, it is limited to those ‘whom the

Lord our God shall call;’ and God does not call unconscious babes. He

will then tell you, that ‘the unbelieving wife is sanctified by the

believing husband, etc.: else were your children unclean, but now are

they holy.’ To this, your good sense would reply, that there is here not

a word about baptism; and if the child is to be baptized because it is

holy, so ought the infidel husband and the infidel wife, for they are

also sanctified or holy. He will then seek to find some _example_. He

will tell you, that there were a number of _families_ baptized, and it

is _almost_ certain there must have been infant children in _some_ of

them. You turn to each place, and find that they who were baptized are

the same who are said to have heard the Word, believed in God, rejoiced

in God, spake with tongues, glorified God, ministered to the saints,

and, in the case of Lydia’s family, are called _brethren_. Finding

neither precept nor example in the New Testament, he will turn to the

Old, and tell you about the covenant with Abraham, the seal of which was

_circumcision_, and was applied to the children. Now, he will say, this

covenant includes Christians too; for Paul says, All that believe are

the children of believing Abraham. And if his children by nature were

circumcised, his children by _faith_ must be baptized. To this you will

reply, true, his children by _faith_ are to be baptized, but who are

they? Paul says, they are _believers_, not the infant offspring of

believers. You will say, further, the Jewish infants were circumcised

because God _expressly commanded_ it to be done. But God never commanded

Christians to baptize their infants. On the contrary, he directed only

the penitent, the believing, the regenerate, to be baptized, which

expressly excludes infants; and not a single infant ever was baptized

during the period of which we have the history in the Scriptures. He has

nothing more to offer. This is the substance and the sum of what _he

calls_ Scriptural authority. Dare you now, with this light in your mind,

consider the baptism of an infant an ordinance of God? I say, then, try

it for yourself. Search the Scriptures, as the Bereans did, and see if

these things are so. I do not ask you to take _my_ word for one solitary

fact or circumstance. Go to the Book. Go not to cavil, but to learn. Go

not to twist an argument out of it, but to ascertain your duty. Study

it; pray over it. Don’t rest till your mind is _satisfied_. If _you

can’t find_ infant baptism in the Word, you may take it for granted _it

is not there_, even though all the Doctors of Divinity in Christendom

assert the contrary. If you _do find it_, bring the Book, and show it to

us benighted Baptists, and we will practice it; for we do earnestly

desire, if we know our own hearts, to ‘do whatever Christ commands us.’

If you find it, it will be your _duty_ to bring it to our notice; for in

that case we are in most woeful error. If you are right, we are most

_fearfully_ wrong. If God has commanded us to baptize our infants, we

are living in open and avowed _rebellion_. But we desire to obey; and if

you will show us our error, so far from growing angry, we will _thank

you_ for the care that you show for our good.”

“There is much in what you have said,” replied Professor Jones, “that

strikes me with amazement. I cannot deny, that infant baptism is in

opposition to the Word of God; but yet, I have never conceived of it as

the terrible thing you have represented it. I see, however, that it must

be even so. If it does not introduce people into the church, it is a

falsehood on its very face; for this is what it pretends to do. If it

does introduce them, then it evidently subverts the very foundation of

the church, as a body of believers. And if God has not commanded or

authorized it, it must, indeed, be impious to do it in his name, as

though he had. I cannot deny this; but you made some statements

concerning the results of its introduction, which I do not feel disposed

to receive solely on your assertion.”

“My dear sir, I don’t desire you to receive any thing on my assertion.

What I do not _prove_, I beg you will consider as though I did not say.

I don’t intend to make any assertion, that I cannot sustain by the very

best of testimony.”

“You said that infant baptism was not introduced in the time of the

first Christians, nor until several hundred years after Christ. And that

all churches, both Protestant and Catholic, who had embraced it, had

persecuted the saints whenever and wherever they possessed the power.

All this is quite at variance with what I have always regarded as the

truth. I do not deny that it is so, but I cannot believe it without the

evidence.”

Mr. Courtney glanced at the clock, as he replied:

“It is now near bedtime. We will not have time to-night; but at any time

you may suggest, I will convince you that I did not speak without

reason. I will prove to you, by the testimony of the ancient Fathers, by

the testimony of _your_ own most eminent historians and divines, that

what I said is strictly and entirely true. I will show you, that infant

baptism was introduced in the same way, and by the same sort of

authority, that pouring and sprinkling were—only that it began at a

somewhat earlier day. I will show you, too, what were the consequences

to the true believers, who refused to sanction the innovation—how they

were driven out to dwell in caves and dens of the earth—how they were

tortured and tormented—hunted like wild beasts; and that not a few

hundreds, or thousands, but millions have gained a martyr’s crown—slain

for the testimony of Jesus; not by Pagans; not by infidels; not by the

people of the world; but by _the members_ of the (so-called) churches of

Jesus Christ, made members in their infancy by this ‘_blessed_’

ordinance of infant baptism. Where shall we meet?”

“Oh, come back here,” said Mrs. Jones. “I begin to feel a sort of

fearful interest in your strange teachings; something—if you will pardon

the comparison—like I would expect to feel in the dying speech of some

outlawed wretch, denouncing, on the very scaffold, all that good men

hold dear and sacred. I do not mean any disrespect, but I cannot think

of any thing else which will so well describe my emotions. I shudder

while you talk, to think that you should dare to speak of one of the

most beautiful and holy rites of our religion as of a deadly sin; and

yet I want to hear all that you have to say. Sister Ernest and Theodosia

will come over with you again to-morrow night.”

“So be it, then. We will meet here to-morrow night.”

THE NINTH NIGHT’S STUDY.

Of the time and manner in which the baptism of infants was substituted

by men for the baptism of believers, which Christ commanded.

Ninth Night’s Study.

There was no one of the company that assembled at the Professor’s house

on Tuesday evening, to continue this discussion, who looked so anxiously

for the time of meeting, as did Mrs. Jones. The idea that an act which

she had always regarded as one of the most beautiful and holy of all the

rites pertaining to our holy religion, was really no part of that

religion, but in fact directly opposed to it, and forbidden by it, had

haunted her mind continually ever since the last night’s conversation.

She had awakened her husband at midnight, to tell him that she should

ever after be afraid to see an infant child baptized—and all the day she

had been anxiously looking at the arguments of Mr. Courtney, as she

called them up one after another in her memory, but could see no fallacy

in the reasoning, though it led to what she considered such fearful

conclusions. One reflection, however, gave her some comfort. Infant

baptism _could not be a sin, otherwise good men could not have practiced

it_. She was sure, therefore, that there must be some defect in his

reasoning, though she could not see it.

And when they had come together, she began the conversation by asking

Mr. Courtney if he had not said that he regarded Presbyterian and other

Pedobaptist ministers as good and pious men?

“Certainly; I said that I knew some such. Men of God, whom I love as my

brethren in the Gospel. And I know personally of no one among them whom

I would be willing to condemn as being a worse man than myself.”

“But how can you say that, Mr. Courtney, when you know that they all

practice infant baptism, and teach others to do so, which you say is not

only a sin, but a most grievous sin: not only sin, but impious

sacrilege? It seems to me you are the most inconsistent man I ever heard

talk.”

“Will you permit me, madam, to answer your question by asking several

others? Were Luther and Calvin and the Reformers good and holy men?”

“Of course they were, Mr. Courtney. No one has ever doubted that.”

“Was Archbishop Cranmer, who suffered martyrdom for his religion, under

Mary of England, a good and holy man?”

“Certainly; he must have been.”

“Were our Puritan Fathers, who settled New England, good and holy men,

deserving our reverential and affectionate remembrance for their

Christian principle, which led them to sacrifice all for a conscience

void of offense?”

“Most assuredly they were; but what has that to do with my question?”

“You will see, madam, when I have asked one more. Is it not a great and

fearful sin to persecute and take the lives of men for their religious

faith?”

“Of course it is; and no good man will do it.”

“And yet, madam, our Pilgrim Fathers persecuted the Quakers and the

Baptists, and condemned them to banishment and death. Cranmer, before he

was burnt, had been very officious and energetic in bringing Baptists to

the stake. (See Neal’s History of the Puritans). Calvin procured the

condemnation of Servetus for his religion, and Luther urged the princes

of his country to persecute those who could not conform to his opinions.

You see, therefore, that good and pious men may be led by their very

piety (under mistaken notions of duty), to do things which are most

fearfully wrong and sinful. Paul _verily thought_ he was doing God

service when he killed the followers of Jesus; but his mistake did not

make the action right. It was still a most awful sin. He did it

ignorantly, and God forgave him. So he will forgive your Pedobaptist

brethren who in their ignorance imagine they are obeying him in

baptizing little children into his church. But the act is sinful,

terribly sinful, nevertheless. You are to take _God’s Word_, not the

example of those whom you consider holy men, as your standard of right.”

“If I did not misunderstand you,” said Uncle Jones, “you told us last

night, that infant baptism was utterly unknown in the time of the first

Christians. Now this is altogether at variance with what our ministers

have always taught us to believe. I am sure that they have labored

sedulously to make the impression on our minds, that from the very times

of the Apostles till about six hundred years ago, no one had ever

questioned that infants should be baptized. I am sure that I have been

told again and again, from the pulpit and in private conversation, that

it was the united testimony of _all_ the Fathers that infant baptism was

received from the Apostles, and that we not only have no account of the

time and manner of its introduction, but no history of any period of the

church when it was not universally received and practiced.”

“Very likely,” replied Mr. Courtney. “Doctors of Divinity often deal in

just such sweeping assertions. The same men who assure you that the New

Testament _abounds_ with proof of infant baptism, though no man living

or dead has ever been able to show for it a single precept or example,

can well afford to make just such statements about history. And I say to

them in this, as in the other case, If there be any record of infant

baptism in the first ages of the church, you can _show it_, and I can

_see it_. Your mere assertions are not worth a straw—bring in your

proof.”

“But have they no such proof?” asked Mrs. Jones. “Surely the ministers

of our church are as good and as truthful as those of any church, and

would not make such assertions without good and sufficient authority.”

“I will answer your question, madam, by referring you to the writings of

some of the most eminent ecclesiastical historians, who were

Pedobaptists, like yourselves, but who would not stoop to falsify

history to promote the interests of a creed. Let me ask your attention,

and yours especially, Professor Jones, to the testimony of a very

remarkable class of these witnesses. Soon after the Reformation, a

project was set on foot by the Pedobaptist Protestants of Germany, to

collect and embody in a permanent form all the known and reliable facts

in the history of the early Christian churches. A great number of the

most learned and eminent men of Europe engaged in the work. They had

access to all the stores of ancient learning, and were fully competent

to explore and appropriate them. Lutheran princes and powerful nobles

were patrons of the work, and neither money nor labor was spared to make

it a faithful picture of the ancient churches. It proposed to give the

history of each century by itself; and as it was published at Magdeburg,

its authors are commonly called the ‘_Magdeburg Centuriators_.’ It was

executed with great care, and has ever since its publication been

regarded as one of the most faithful and accurate records of early

church history. Now, I want you to remember that there was not a single

Baptist among these men; and then observe their language, which is as

follows: ‘They [the Apostles] baptized only the adult or aged, whether

Jews or Gentiles, whereof we have instances in Acts ii., viii., x.,

xvi., and xix. chapters. As to the baptism of _infants_ we have no

example. As to the _manner_ of baptizing, it was by _dipping_ or

_plunging_ into the water, in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy

Ghost, according to the allusions contained in the 6th of Romans and the

2d of Colossians.’ Thus they speak of the first century; and of the

second century they say: ‘It does not appear from any approved authors

that there was any change or variation from the former century in regard

to baptism.’

“The learned and acute Erasmus, writing about the same time, says, in

his Notes on the 6th of Romans: ‘It is nowhere expressed in the

apostolic writings that they baptized children.’

“John Calvin, the founder of your Presbyterian Church, says: ‘It is

nowhere expressed by the Evangelists that any one infant was baptized.’

“Ludovicus Vives, a name of high historical authority, says: ‘None of

old was wont to be baptized but in grown age, and who desired it, and

understood what it was.’

“Dr. Taylor, of the Church of England, says: ‘It is against the

perpetual analogy of Christ’s doctrine to baptize infants; for besides