"Ah, yes, sir, that's the very point. I think in times past the Church

ministers have stood too much on their social and worldly dignity: they

have made too much of the _man_, and too little of the _office_. It's

different now almost every where. But you see, sir, this just separated

them from the tradespeople, but it didn't separate them from the poor.

They didn't feel their pride wounded when they took the horny hand of

the labourer; but it was a greater trial of humility to shake hands with

the tradesman over the counter, and to go and sit down in the parlour

behind the shop, in the same friendly way in which they visited the poor

cottagers. Then, you know, sir, there were many other ways in which this

class was neglected: _we_ think it was lest too great attention should

lead to too great familiarity. The wealth and education of a tradesman

perhaps sometimes made his social position border too closely on that of

the Church minister, and perhaps the minister felt it his duty carefully

to guard the narrow barrier; but, oh, dear me, sir, what is all that

compared with the work God has given him to do! I don't think that one

who has the salvation of his people at heart will stop to consider

whether a friendly, faithful pastoral visit may or may not result in a

more familiar nod from his parishioners for the future. Do you know,

sir, I think this is one of the loose stones in your spiritual House."

"I agree with much that you have said, as regards _past years_: but you

must not put all down to _pride_; you must make more allowances for

men's peculiar habits, and circumstances, and manners. Only just now you

excused a kindred fault in yourself on the ground of private cares and

anxieties. However, our views on this matter are not far apart. I

consider, with you, that a clergyman's _office_ overrides all social

distinctions; and that he should be equally at home at the squire's

mansion, the tradesman's parlour, and the meanest cottage in his parish;

none should be too high for his familiarity, none too low for his

friendship: as Chaucer says, 'the beggar is his brother.' His _social_

position is certainly as nothing compared with his _official_, and

should always be made subservient to it. I cannot understand how any

clergyman, who rightly estimates the high dignity of his sacred office

as a priest, can take a different view from this. However--God be

praised!--times are altered in this respect: the Clergy have thrown away

almost every where that reserve which no doubt lost to the Church many

of the class which the Dissenters have gained. And we see now the good

results; for in thousands of parishes the sons and daughters of these

very people are working hand-in-hand with their Pastor, and are among

the most zealous and faithful children of the Church, bringing again

within the walls of her Temples multitudes of those who have been

fellow-wanderers with themselves, and so helping to repair, one by one,

the many breaches which have, alas! been made in the House of the

Lord."

_CHAPTER XV_

THE FONT

"Suffer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not; for of

such is the kingdom of heaven."

Luke xviii. 16.

"There is a Font within whose burnish'd face

The o'erarching pile itself reflected sleeps,

Columns, arch, roof, and all the hallow'd place,

Beauteously mirror'd in its marble deeps;

And holy Church within her vigil keeps:

Thus round our Font on storied walls arise

Scenes that encompass Sion's holy steeps,

Rivers of God and sweet societies,

The mountain of our rest, and Kingdom of the skies."

_The Baptistery._

Illustration: Ancient Font in West Rounton Church

THE FONT

A few weeks after the interview mentioned in the last chapter, the Vicar

preached three sermons from the same text, St. John iii. 5: "Except a

man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom

of God." The first sermon was on the _necessity of Baptism_; the second,

on _its benefits_; and the third, on _its mode of administration_,

specially in the case of infants. Mr. Ambrose could not help noticing

that Mr. Dole was on each occasion deeply affected, for he saw tears on

his face, which evidently manifested deep emotion within. He was,

therefore, hardly surprised, when, after his third sermon, a knock at

the vestry-door announced a visit from his parishioner.

"I have listened very attentively to your last three sermons, Mr.

Ambrose," said he, "and the subjects of them have also, as you know, for

a long time past been seriously and prayerfully considered by me; I am

now come to ask you to receive me into the Church by Baptism."

"Have you never yet been baptized, my friend?" inquired the Vicar,

taking his hand in a kind and friendly way.

"No, I have not; when I was an infant, my parents objected to my being

baptized, and since I became a man, I must confess with shame, that I

have never had the _courage_ to go through the service at our _meeting_.

That service, you know, sir, is such as to deter far more courageous

men--and specially women--than I am, and I have always, too, had my

doubts about its propriety."

"I am not surprised at that. I once, when a boy, attended a baptism at

one of your _meetings_, and I shall never forget it; for a more unseemly

spectacle I never witnessed. There were several young men and women

immersed by the preacher, in a large tank of water, in the middle of the

meeting-house. Each was clothed in a flannel garment fitting almost

closely to the body, and the appearance of the first of them was the

signal for a general rush to the best places for seeing; men and boys

climbed noisily over the pews, and some took their places on the backs

of the seats, so as to get a good view; and the whole scene was most

disorderly and irreverent.

"I have explained to you that our own Church also admits of baptism by

_immersion_[70], but it does not _require_ it, nor even recommend it.

Nevertheless occasionally persons desire it; and there are a few

churches, chiefly in Wales, where a large tank of water, as well as a

smaller font, is provided for such special cases. But this mode of

baptizing is not encouraged by the Church, for these among other

reasons:--It is _not necessary_--for 1, the word _Baptism_, in the

original, does not necessarily mean entire immersion; 2, in the absence

of proof to the contrary, we may fairly conclude, from the peculiar

circumstances[71] of the cases, that many of whose baptism we read in

the New Testament were not so immersed; 3, the Church from the earliest

period has not considered immersion as necessary to the validity of

Baptism. It is also _inconvenient_--for 1, in some cases it would be

most difficult to obtain sufficient water for the purpose; 2, in many

cases there would be much risk and danger attending its practice; 3, in

all cases there would be difficulty in securing that solemnity,

propriety, and order so desirable in the administration of this holy

sacrament. But the Baptism of adults, even according to the Church's

ordinary rules, is no small test of courage, as well as sincerity. You

are aware, no doubt, that your own Baptism and reception into the Church

must be _in the face of the congregation_. The law of the Church is very

plain on this point; it distinctly forbids Baptism to be administered

_privately_, either at home or in the Church, 'unless upon a great and

reasonable cause;' and it is much to be regretted that this rule has

ever been departed from."

"Yes, sir, I have well considered that point."

The Vicar remained long that afternoon in the vestry in serious

conversation and earnest prayer with his parishioner. He again went over

the subject of the last three sermons; showing, 1st, how the text could

refer to nothing else than holy Baptism, and that, if it did refer to

it, then no doubt, where it can be had, Baptism must be necessary for

us, in order that we may "enter into the kingdom of God;" 2ndly, that

the _promise_ is as sure as the _warning_; and, 3rdly, that the terms of

the text are _unexceptional_, that they refer to _all mankind_ without

any exception whatever, men, women, and children. In speaking of these

different subjects, of course he had to meet the various objections

which Dissenters are used to adduce; but on all these points it was not

very difficult to satisfy the mind of one who had already freed himself

from the trammels of prejudice, and was earnestly seeking for the

_truth_.

On the following Sunday afternoon therefore, after the second lesson,

Mr. Dole presented himself, with his chosen witnesses, at the Font of

St. Catherine's. The service was a very solemn one, and all the

congregation evidently took the greatest interest in it. Mr. Dole made

the responses in a firm manly voice, its very tone seemed to say, "This

is the result of my deep and honest conviction; I have been wrong, and I

am not ashamed to say so before all those who are here present, from

whom I have so long been separated, but who are henceforth my brethren

in Christ." And then for the first time, he quietly and calmly took his

place on a bench at the west end of the building--a sincere member of

the Christian Church.

It was natural that the Squire and Vicar should have some conversation

after service on an event of so much importance in the village as was

this. They both foretold, and rightly, the downfall of the little

village "Bethel" as soon as its chief supporter had left it.

Its former attendants came back to the Church one by one, till at length

the owner of the building, finding no prospect of receiving his rent,

closed the "Meeting," and appropriated it to another purpose.

The Vicar and Squire were standing near the Font, and the conversation

took its rise from the object before them.

"How often, Mr. Vicar, we find these old Norman Fonts preserved, when

there is hardly another bit of masonry remaining in the church of the

same date."

"Yes; and it is remarkable it should be so, considering the exposed part

of the church in which they are placed, and the perishable stone of

which they are not unfrequently composed; besides which, the carvings

upon them are often of so mysterious and grotesque a character as

naturally to excite the wrath of the Puritan fanatics who so

relentlessly destroyed the beauty of our Houses of God, and 'brake down

all the carved work thereof with axes and hammers.'

"It is very interesting to watch the progress of architectural changes

as delineated on Fonts. Each period of ecclesiastical architecture, as

well in its general features as in its details, is abundantly

illustrated by the carvings and mouldings to be found on Fonts. The

early Fonts were with few exceptions made of stone. Marble was seldom

used till in comparatively recent times. Some of the early Fonts had a

solid leaden bowl, placed on a stone base[72]; I have never seen but one

ancient wooden Font[73]; that was placed on a stone base of the Norman

period, but was itself no doubt much later. The sculpture on very

ancient Fonts, as well as other church carving of the time, sometimes

borrowed its symbolism from the heathen mythology which preceded

it[74]."

Constance Acres, who had been hitherto a quiet listener, here asked Mr.

Ambrose why the Font was always placed near the door of the church.

"It's a natural inquiry, my dear, for one of your age," said the Vicar,

"but the reason is evident. Its position there, at the entrance of the

material fabric, fitly represents _Baptism_ as the outward form of

admission into the Christian Church. The Font, too, thus placed, should

ever remind us, as we enter the church, of the vows and promises made in

our name when first we were brought in our helpless infancy to be

presented to God, and to be made members of Christ through the grace of

our second birth. If people would only accustom themselves to associate

such thoughts with the baptismal Font, then just a glance at it as they

come into the church would be enough to solemnize their minds, and help

to fit them for the sacred services in which they are about to take a

part. It was once the custom, Constance, to place what were called

_stoups_, at the entrances to our churches, and there are still remains

of them at the doors of many old churches. These were small basins, made

of stone, for the purpose of holding water, which--like the water in the

Font--was consecrated by the priest. When persons came into the church,

they dipped a finger in the basin, and crossed their forehead with the

water, just as the priest now crosses the brow of the person who has

been baptized. The _forehead_, you know, is always regarded as the seat

of _shame_ or _courage_[75]; and so the person, when baptized, is signed

with 'the sign of the _Cross_, in token that hereafter he shall _not be

ashamed_ to confess the faith of _Christ crucified_.' The old custom of

frequent crossing with holy water has now for a long time been

discontinued by us, the practice was regarded by many as superstitious,

nor does there appear to be authority for it in the Primitive Church.

The same motive which prompted the use of the _stoup_, however, still

induces some persons to use the sign of the Cross on entering a church:

I do not myself do so; not that I see any harm in the practice in

itself, as it is intended to remind persons of the Sacred Presence to

which they are about to enter, and to drive away worldly thoughts by

this memento of the crucifixion of their Lord; but I think it is

better, in my own case, as some would be offended by it, to try to

accomplish this right object by other means."

"People's minds have very much changed in late years respecting the use

of the Cross," said Mr. Acres. "A few years ago not only was the sign of

the Cross in baptism considered superstitious, but it was considered

even wrong to use it in church architecture, or as an ornament within

the church, or as a part of a memorial in the churchyard; there are few

now, I suppose, who regard such use of the sacred symbol as

superstitious. I was in a bookseller's shop the other day when a

'Baptist' preacher came in to purchase a Prayer Book to present to a

friend; the bookseller said to him, 'Of course that will not suit you,

sir, as it has a Cross upon it.' 'I like the book very much,' was his

reply; 'and as for the Cross, why the Puritans may object to that if

they like, I don't.' But I am of opinion that people are going a little

in the opposite extreme, and, at least as a personal _ornament_, the

Cross is become too common."

"Why _do_ you fall into the popular error, my good friend," said the

Vicar, reprovingly, "of calling these Anabaptist preachers, _Baptists_?

Surely they ought to be called any thing rather than _Baptists_, for

they make more light of Baptism than any other people who can properly

be said to believe in Baptism at all. Do let us call things by their

proper names;--why, to call them _Baptists_, is almost as bad as to call

Roman Catholics, _Catholics_, and so to ignore our own claim to be

members of the Christian Church, because we allow them a name which

would imply that _they_ are the _only_ Church in the world. I need not

tell you that the word ANA_baptist_[76] exactly expresses what they are,

namely, they who _baptize a second time_ those who have already been

baptized in infancy. The term 'Baptist' is far more applicable to Church

people than to them."

"I see, I deserve your rebuke: mine is a mistake too often made.

By-the-bye, Mr. Vicar, I was very pleased to hear your reply to Mr.

Dole, when he inquired what was the _fee_ to be paid for his baptism. I

heard you tell him that the sacraments of the Church were always

_free_."

"Yes, certainly I did; and I confess I cannot understand how any one can

dare, in these days, to demand a fee for Baptism; the claim is as

_illegal_ as it is _unchristian_, and I believe goes far to make the

poor take a low view of this holy rite. I wish, too, I could make the

poor understand that _Baptism_ has nothing to do with _Registration_;

many of the most ignorant of them really regard them as the same thing.

Some of them, too, will persist in thinking that to be _privately

baptized_, is to be '_half baptized_.' Of course _they must be

altogether baptized, or not baptized at all_; but they do not readily

see that the _baptism_ is complete, though the _reception into the

Church_ is not perfected till the service is concluded in the face of

the congregation."

_CHAPTER XVI_

THE PULPIT

"He commanded us to preach unto the people."

_Acts_ x. 42

"The pulpit, therefore (and I name it, fill'd

With solemn awe, that bids me well beware

With what intent I touch that Holy thing),

I say the pulpit (in sober awe

Of its legitimate peculiar powers)

Must stand acknowledged, while the world shall stand,

The most important and effectual guard,

Support and ornament of virtue's cause.

There stands the messenger of truth: there stands

The legate of the skies! His theme divine,

His office sacred, his credentials clear.

By him the violated law speaks out

Its thunders; and by him, in strains as sweet

As angels are, the Gospel whispers peace."

COWPER.

Illustration: Stone Pulpit in Dartmouth Church

THE PULPIT

"I suppose we must not expect you to conform to all our usages at first,

Mr. Dole," said Mr. Acres, as they walked out of the churchyard one

Sunday, after the Afternoon Service; "but no doubt you will soon see the

fitness of our several forms and ceremonies, and then you will do as we

do. Of course these things are--compared with others--of no great

importance; but still it is better, even in small matters, to avoid

differences in our mode of worship."

"Yes, that is so, sir; but you must give me time, and I shall be glad if

you will tell me what you have specially noticed in my manner different

from others? I don't wish to seem particular."

"Well, to be candid then, Mr. Dole, it seems strange to us to see a man

when he comes into church _stand up_ and say his prayers in his _hat_,

instead of reverently _kneeling down_."

"I never thought of that before, but I dare say it does; but then you

know, sir, that is our way at the _meeting_. I see, however, that it is

much more proper in God's house to obey the precept of His Holy Word,

and 'fall low on our knees before His footstool.'"

"Then for the same reason you will, I am sure, see that, instead of

_sitting_ during the other prayers, as I notice you do, it is proper to

_kneel_ at those times too. You will find that all in our church, from

the oldest to the youngest, except poor Old Reynolds and Tom Barham (who

are too infirm to kneel), do so. Then again, when the _Creed_ is said, I

see you do sometimes stand up, but not always; and I notice you don't

turn to the _East_, as all the rest of the congregation do."

"No, I confess I don't do that. I like the idea of repeating our

Confession of Faith whenever we meet at church: I suppose the want of

this practice is one reason why the different leading sects of

Dissenters are constantly being broken up into fresh divisions. Yes,

there is certainly something very supporting to a Christian in so

declaring with the Church every where, his belief in the great doctrines

of their common Faith; but the fact is, I have some scruples about

turning to the East at that time. Even old Mrs. Tubbs, who, you know, is

a Church-woman, says she thinks it is superstitious."

"All I can say, then, is, that Mrs. Tubbs doesn't know the meaning of

the word she uses; and in this she is like a great many more people who

think themselves very wise about these matters. Now, my good friend,

when you next come to church, stand up with the rest, and turn to the

East as the others do, and first say to yourself some such words as

these:--'We all _stand_, to signify that we are _not ashamed_ of our

Belief, and that, if need be, we will manfully defend it. We all _turn

in one direction_, to signify that we all hold _one and the same faith_.

We all turn to the _East_, because there in the east of our churches

every thing reminds us of the presence of Him in whom we profess our

belief; because there, in remembrance of Him, we celebrate the highest

and most sacred mysteries of our Faith; and because the East specially

reminds us of the holy life, the Divine teaching, the miracles, the

suffering, the death of our Blessed Lord--"the _Sun_ of Righteousness,"

"the _Day-spring_ from on high"--_in the East_[77].' Do this, Mr. Dole,

and you will never again be disposed to regard this custom as

superstitious. Why, some people even think it is superstitious to bend

the head reverently at the name of Jesus, when it is mentioned in the

Creeds and the other parts of the Service."

"I don't think so, though once I did. Since I have considered more about

it, it has seemed to me that some outward show of reverence at the

mention of the Sacred Name is quite Scriptural[78]. But as I am yet only

a learner about these outward forms, will you kindly tell me, sir,

whether there is any rule of the Church about this custom?"

"The Vicar will be able to answer that better than I can."

"I could not help overhearing our friend's question," said Mr. Ambrose,

"as I was close behind you, and I will answer it at once. The rule of

our Church is very plain on this point; it is this: 'All manner of

persons present shall reverently kneel upon their knees, when the

general Confession, Litany, and other prayers are read; and shall stand

up at the saying of the Belief, according to the rules in that behalf

prescribed in the Book of Common Prayer; and likewise, when in time of

Divine Service the Lord Jesus shall be mentioned, due and lowly

reverence shall be done by all persons present, as it hath been

accustomed: testifying, by these outward ceremonies and gestures, their

inward humility, Christian resolution, and due acknowledgment that the

Lord Jesus Christ, the true eternal Son of God, is the only Saviour of

the world[79].'"

"Thank you, Mr. Ambrose, nothing could be plainer, or more reasonable

than that direction; but, you see, I have for so many years _sat under_

Mr. Scole, who never taught us any thing of this sort, that you will

forgive me if I seem a little more ignorant than those who have been all

the time _sitting under_ you."

"What do you mean by 'sitting under,' my friend?" said the Vicar, very

innocently.

"I mean _hearing you preach_," was Mr. Dole's reply. "It's a curious

expression, now I come to think about it."

"It certainly is so, and the meaning of it is not very clear. But in our

Church we don't talk about _sitting under_, or _hearing_ this or that

preacher. We simply say we attend this or that church, as the case may

be. And the reason is, that--although very important in its proper

place--we consider preaching of little moment (and the preacher of far

less), when compared with the other objects of Christian

worship,--_Prayer_ and _Praise_. We look upon God's House as

pre-eminently 'a House of Prayer.'"

"Well, I do think we used to make too much of the sermon at the meeting;

and I remember all our conversation afterwards was about the sermon or

the preacher. One Sunday we had a young gent. from London, Mr. Sweetly,

to preach, and our people never ceased to talk about him. I believe,

however, none of them recollected a word he said; but they could

remember well enough 'his lovely voice,' and 'how nice he looked in his

beautiful black silk gown' (you know, sir, our people always preach in

black gowns), 'and those charming lavender gloves! and then the sweetest

embroidered white lawn pocket-handkerchief imaginable!' It had just been

presented to him, he told me, by a young lady--Miss Angelina

Gushing--who sat under him at his London meeting-house. I never was a

preacher-worshipper myself, sir."

"Save me from the man with the _lavender gloves and the white

embroidered pocket-handkerchief_, I say," said Mr. Acres. "If there is

one thing in nature I shrink from more than another, it is a _fop_, and

a _fop_ in the pulpit is beyond endurance."

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