he 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 [282]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 [283]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 [284]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 [285]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 [286]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 [287]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 [288]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 [289]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 [290]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:
[291]“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 [292]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 [293]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 [294]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 [295]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 [296]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 [297]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 [298]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 [299]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. [300]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 uncircumcised, 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. [301]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 [302]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 [303]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 [304]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, [305]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 [306]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 [307]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 [308]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 [309]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 [310]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 [311]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 [312]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 [313]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 [314]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 [315]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 [316]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 [317]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 [318]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 [319]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 [320]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 [321]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. [322]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 [323]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 [324]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.”
[325]“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, [326]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 [327]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 [328]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.”
[329]“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 [330]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.”
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