Theodosia Ernest; or The Heroine of Faith. (continued 7)

“If infant baptism had been a universal custom, as is pretended by some,” said Theodosia, “there never could have been any occasion for Quintilla to write to Tertullian on the subject, for children would have been baptized, as a matter of course, whether they asked for it or not.”

“Very true; and Tertullian would have replied to her, that it had always been the practice of the church to baptize the little darlings, and she need not even wait for them to ask for it; but he did no such thing. ‘Those who administer baptism,’ he says, ‘know very well that it is not to be rashly given.’ The good lady evidently thought that it was enough if the children could ask for it, and had quoted the Scripture, ‘Give to him that asketh.’ To this, Tertullian says: ‘What! give to him that asketh! Every one hath a right to it as to a thing of alms! Nay! say, rather, give not that which is holy to the dogs; cast not your pearls before swine; lay hands suddenly on no man; be not partaker of other men’s sins.’ It would seem that she had referred to the cases of the Eunuch and of Paul, as having received the ordinance as soon as they asked for it. And to this, Tertullian replies: ‘If Philip baptized the Eunuch on the spot, let us remember that it was done under the immediate direction of the Lord.’ The Eunuch was a believer of the Scripture; the instruction given by Philip was seasonable; the one preached, the other perceived the Lord Jesus, and believed on him. Water was at hand, and the Apostle, having finished the affair, was caught away. But you say, Paul was baptized instantly. True, because Judas, at whose house he was, instantly knew that he was a vessel of mercy. The condescension of God may confer his favors as he pleases, but our wishes may mislead ourselves and others.

“This lady seems to have referred, as you do, to the words of Jesus, ‘Suffer little children,’ etc. And to this, Tertullian says, as Baptists do now: ‘The Lord does indeed say forbid them not to come unto me; and let them come while they are growing up; let them come and learn, and let them be instructed when they come; and when they understand Christianity, let them profess themselves Christians.’

“In another of his works, Tertullian says: ‘Adults are the only proper subjects of baptism, because fasting, confession of sins, prayer, profession, renouncing the devil and his works, are required of the baptized.’

“It is evident, Therefore, that at this time, the beginning of the third century, the baptism of children had just begun to be spoken of.

“Now, strange as it may seem to you, your Doctors of Divinity are accustomed to base the strongest of all their historical arguments on this letter of Tertullian to Quintilla.”

“How is that possible?”

“They say, infant baptism must have existed, or Tertullian would not have opposed it. If it existed then, it must have existed from the first, because we have no history of its introduction, and no account of any previous opposition to it. And it is incredible that it could have been introduced without opposition.”

“And what answer,” said Mrs. Jones, “can you make to such reasoning as that?”

“We simply say that it did not exist before. That this is the first proposal to introduce it, and that it was opposed.”

“Very satisfactory, I declare! But what evidence have you that this was the first?”

“The best evidence that is possible: It is the first on record. If the advocates of infant baptism say there was any previous one, let them produce it. But we might put our defence on different ground. We might admit that infant baptism was at the beginning of the third century a generally received and recognized custom of the churches, and yet it would not follow, by any means, that it was received from the Apostles or had any Divine authority.

“You do not believe that the Episcopal and Catholic rite of confirmation is of Divine authority, and yet it can be traced back as far as infant baptism. You do not believe that there is any Divine authority for signing the baptized with the sign of the cross, yet Tertullian distinctly recognizes this as an existing custom in his day. So he does the giving of the newly baptized a mixture of milk and honey, and anointing them with holy oil. The doctrine of baptismal regeneration and of purgatory both date back to or before this early day, as do the observance of some of the feast days and fast days, and a vast amount of the most absurd and silly mummery of the Romish Church.

“The first we read of these fooleries, they were already in the churches; they had, so far as we know, never been opposed; they were there long before we find any trace of infant baptism there, and yet who of you will dare to say, on these grounds, that Christ and his Apostles ordained that candidates for baptism should be divested of their clothing—should have salt put in their hands—should be daubed with the priest’s spittle —clothed in white on coming out of the water—signed with the sign of the cross—anointed with chrism—walk from the water with a lighted taper in their hands, etc., etc.

“The truth is, the simplicity of the Gospel was corrupted even in the Apostles’ days; and it was not the least onerous of their labors to prevent and correct unauthorized additions to and modifications of their teachings. The simple fact, therefore, that we find any doctrine or any practice in the churches at an early day, is no evidence at all that it was received either from Christ or his Apostles. The Scriptures are our only guide. This you as Protestants admit, and by this you are precluded from all recourse to ‘the traditions of the first Christians,’ in regard to infant baptism, or any thing else concerning the doctrines and ordinances of our religion. So that it is nothing to you nor to me if infant baptism had existed before Tertullian’s time. We have shown, however, that so far from being a general practice before that time, it then was for the first time proposed, and it required all the third and most of the fourth to secure it any considerable foothold in the churches, and that it did not become established as an ecclesiastical institution till the time of Augustine, in the early part of the fifth century.

“It is true, as you may read in almost every writer on baptism, that Cyprian, who was the successor of Tertullian in the church at Carthage, received a letter from one Fidus, of whom nothing more is known than that he wrote such a letter, asking how soon after birth it might be proper to baptize. This was about forty years after Tertullian wrote to Quintilla on the subject. Cyprian, it seems, did not feel quite able to decide this momentous question, and called a council of sixty-seven of his brother bishops of North Africa, who gave it as their opinion that the ‘Grace of God should not be withheld from any son of man, and that a child might be kissed with the kiss of charity as a brother, so soon as it is born.’ This was in the year A.D. 257. It was this same Cyprian who gave it as his opinion that water poured about a person in bed (if he was sick and could not be immersed) would answer in the place of baptism.”

“What was the effect of this decree of the African Council?”

“It seems to have had none. It is likely that it relieved the doubts of Fidus; and infants were probably baptized in Africa to some limited extent, but we have no record of any such baptisms. One hundred years after this, Dr. Wall, the Pedobaptist historian, says complaints were common that mothers could not be prevailed on to put their children into the water at baptism. More than one hundred and twenty years after this, Gregory, the Bishop of Constantinople, gave his opinion on the baptism of infants or babes. These are his words: ‘But some say, what is your opinion of infants who are not capable of judging either of the grace of baptism or of the damage sustained by the want of it? Shall we baptize them too? By all means, if there be any apparent danger; for it were better they were sanctified without knowing it, than that they should die without being sealed and initiated. As for others, I give my opinion, that when they are three years of age or thereabouts (for then they are able to hear and answer some of the mystical words; and although they do not fully understand, they may receive impressions), they may be sanctified, both soul and body, by the great mystery of initiation.’

“But neither the decree of Cyprian’s sixty-seven bishops, nor the opinion of Gregory himself, seem to have convinced the common people; for in the next generation—at the beginning of the fifth century—the priests and bishops who had espoused the new practice, which they doubtless found profitable to their own purses, if not to the souls of the little water-made Christians, found it needful to meet in solemn council, and pass another decree, declaring that ‘Infants ought to be baptized for the remission of sins, and that all who denied this doctrine should be accursed.’

“Previous to this, great multitudes of believers, grieved and disgusted with the corruptions and innovations which had crept into the so-called Catholic Church, had withdrawn, and formed separate societies of their own. From the arguments and the decrees which were designed to bring these heretics back into the bosom of Mother Church, it appears that they were, in some particulars, very much like our Baptist Churches.

“The Catholic bishop, Augustin, represents them as asking, ‘What good the sacrament of Christ’s baptism could do unconscious infants?’

“And to this question he replies, ‘That in regard to that matter, it is piously and truly believed that the faith of those by whom the child is presented, profits the child’ But as this reasoning did not prove sufficiently convincing, another council was called, which decreed, ‘That it was their will that whosoever denies that little children by baptism are freed from perdition and eternally saved, that they be accursed.’ And this decision being affirmed and sanctioned by the Pope, in 417, we may from that time consider infant baptism and baptismal salvation as established doctrines of that body which historians are accustomed to call the Church. But the decree, with its appended curse, proved insufficient to convince the stubborn-hearted Baptists. They refused to baptize their children, and they disowned the baptism of the Catholics by refusing to receive them into their communities till they had been baptized by themselves. This the Catholics called rebaptism, or Anabaptism; hence the name of Anabaptists, which has been applied to us almost to the present day. For these great crimes, the Catholics turned against them the strong arm of the secular power. They procured a decree of the Emperor, that not only those who rebaptized, but those who received the ordinance at their hands, should be put to death. ‘By this law,’ says Gibbon, ‘three hundred bishops, and several thousand of the inferior clergy, were torn from their churches, stripped of their ecclesiastical possessions, and banished to the Islands.’ From this day down to the present, in every country where Pedobaptists have had the power, our brethren have been the subjects of bitter and unrelenting persecution. We can trace them through the pages of history by the light of the fires that consumed them, and by the rivers of blood which they have shed in testimony of their faith. Millions and millions of these slaughtered saints are standing now with those who were beheaded for the testimony of Jesus; slain not by their pagan foes, but by their so-called Christian brethren!—by people whom your writers call ‘the Church,’ and whose history you record as the history of the Church!!!

“When this work of death commenced, they reproached Augustin (whom historians call a saint) with the death of their pastors, and told him that God would require at his hand the blood of these martyrs at the day of judgment. ‘Martyrs!’ he replied. ‘I know nothing about your martyrs. Martyrs indeed! Martyrs to the devil! There are no martyrs out of the church.’ We have not time to trace their history through the coming ages, under the different names which have been given them, as Donatists, Novatianists, Cathari or Puritans, Paulicians, Henricans, Petrobrusians, Mennonites, Albigenses, Waldenses, etc.; but let me suggest, if you desire to pursue the subject further, that you read Orchard’s History of the Foreign Baptists, which contains in a small space an immense amount of information concerning these persecuted and afflicted disciples of Jesus.”

“I do not think,” said Professor Jones, “that we need to spend further time upon this point now. I confess, for my own part, I am more than convinced. I only wonder that these facts are not more generally known.”

“They are public property,” replied Mr. Courtney, “and have long been known to Baptists; but your Pedobaptist friends will not read them or listen to them. And when we absolutely force them upon their attention, they take it for granted there must be some mistake about it, or else they would have heard them from their own ministers. But I agree with you that we have spent time enough in our present conversation; and as there is preaching at the court house to-night, suppose we adjourn to meet again to-morrow.”

“I hope you will meet here,” said Mrs. Jones, “for I have yet one very serious charge to offer against the Baptists.”

“Permit me, madam, to inquire what it is, that I may be better prepared to meet it.”

“It is your close communion. I am almost willing to admit that immersion is the only baptism, and that infants are not in the Scriptures required to be baptized —though even about these points there must be some mistake on your part, for our ministers are certainly as learned and as pious as yours, and yet they have always represented the facts as very different from the pictures you have drawn.”

“But you forget, Mrs. Jones, that it is by the testimony of your own historians and your own ministers that I have established these facts. I have scarcely quoted a single Baptist authority. The men who say that there is no precept or example of infant baptism in the Scriptures, are among the most learned and eminent of your own writers. The men who say that the very meaning of the word baptize is to immerse, and that it was immersion only which was for ages practiced by the church, are such men as McKnight and Chalmers, among the most eminent of your own Doctors of Divinity. The men who say that it is certain that infant baptism was not ordained by Christ or the Apostles, and was not introduced until after the second century, are such men as Neander, Coleman, and Kitto, among the most learned and eminent of your own ecclesiastical historians and Biblical critics. Such men would not say such things unless the truth compelled them.”

“That is very strange, Mr. Courtney; but I can’t deny that it is true: and I may be convinced that you are right in these things; but I am sure I never can be reconciled to your practice of restricted communion.”

“Don’t be so certain of that, madam. I have no doubt I shall be able to show you to-morrow that you Presbyterians are just as much restricted in your terms of communion as we are. The only difference between us is on the question, What is baptism? But it is now time to go to the meeting.”

They found the house already filled, and the services had commenced when they arrived. They had not been there long, when those who stood near the door saw a horseman ride up and dismount. It was Mr. Percy. My reader will remember that, after writing that letter to Theodosia, he had gone to another county to attend the Circuit Court. He reached the place on Sabbath morning, just before church time, and attended the Presbyterian meeting. At any other time he would probably have made the fatigue of his journey an excuse for remaining at his hotel; but he was very unhappy that morning, and hoped in church to find some remission of the feverish anxiety which preyed upon his mind. He could not feel satisfied that he had done right in leaving off the investigation of the subject of baptism himself, or in endeavoring to prevent Theodosia from acting out her conscientious convictions of duty. He had wished a hundred times, as he rode along, that he had never written that unfortunate letter. Yet he never suspected for a moment the influence it was destined to have upon his own matrimonial prospects. That Miss Ernest loved him most devotedly he was well assured; nor did the thought ever enter his mind, that either this or any other event was likely to break off their engagement, or even postpone their marriage. But when he remembered the earnestness of heart with which she regarded every question pertaining to religion, he felt that he must have occasioned great distress to her; and he bitterly reproached himself that he had permitted his selfishness so far to triumph over his affection.

He had at first congratulated himself that he had made to her such an appeal as she could not disregard, and consequently had secured the object which he had in view; but on reflection, he began to feel that he should esteem her more highly and love her more tenderly, if it should prove true that her religious principles were so strong and her sense of duty so predominant, that she would not listen even to the voice of love itself dissuading her from the path of right.

He began to hope that she would disregard his entreaties and do her duty. He wished he could return in time to tell her that he would not for the world put any restraint upon her conscience. He comforted himself by the thought that, if his letter had any effect, it would only be to postpone her decision until his return, when he determined to take all difficulties out of her way.

When he took his seat in the church, his heart and his mind were in another place. Could he but know what had been her decision—where she was sitting then —what she was doing! He rose when the congregation stood up to pray—he sat down when the preacher said amen, as did the others, but he heard no sentence of the prayer. They sang an old familiar hymn to an air which he had learned in childhood; he joined in the singing, but when it was done he could not have told what was the tune or the words. When the preacher announced his text, he started as from a dream, and as he repeated it: “To him who knoweth to do good and doeth it not, to him it is sin”—the Spirit at once applied it to his heart. He felt that this was precisely the case with himself. He had examined the meaning of Christ’s commandment. He was satisfied that he had not obeyed it. He knew that it was his duty to do what Christ commanded, but he had deliberately and willfully refused to do it; and what was worse, he had exerted all the influence which he possessed to induce Miss Ernest to do the same.

The main thoughts of the sermon were, First, that men are always inclined to find excuses for their wickedness.

Second, there is no excuse more frequently offered, or more implicitly relied upon, than ignorance.

Third, that although ignorance, when involuntary and unavoidable, may be plead in mitigation of one’s guilt, as Jesus taught us when he said that he who knew not his master’s will and did it not, should be beaten with few stripes—yet those who might learn their duty were doubly guilty. Their ignorance itself was sin; and those who knew and acknowledged their duty, and yet neglected or refused to do it, had not even the shadow of an excuse. Whatever doubt there might exist in any other case, their sinfulness was certain, and their guilt was fearful.

As the preacher dwelt upon this last thought, an expression of agony quivered in the muscles of Mr. Percy’s face, and the tears started in his eyes. He rested his head on the pew before him, and covered his face to avoid the observation of those about him; and as soon as the congregation was dismissed, hastened to his room at the hotel, and passed the rest of the day in most distressful reflections on his past conduct and present condition. Not this one sin alone, but hundreds of others, nay, more than he could count, came rushing back upon his memory. A lifetime of sin—sin against light, sin against love, sin against deep and plain convictions of duty; sins of his early boyhood, sins of his heyday youth, sins of mature manhood, all crowded around him and seemed to call down Heaven’s vengeance on his head. He tried to pray, like the poor publican, God be merciful to me a sinner. But his prayer seemed to be reflected back by the ceiling of the room. It had no messenger to bear it up to the throne. He felt that he was lost. His sin had found him out, and he had no Saviour. His hopes were all gone. He knew not what to do. Night came, and he sat there on the side of the bed, without a light, feeling that the darkness of the night was light in comparison with the darkness in his heart.

His agony of mind was so great that he could not think. He could only feel. He would kneel down to pray, but he had no words to utter. He could only groan in his spirit. He would rise up again and sit upon the side of the bed. Thus the night wore away. At last he threw himself upon the bed, and from mere exhaustion fell asleep. When he awoke in the morning, his head was throbbing with pain, and his eyes were red and swollen. He excused himself from breakfast, and had a cup of coffee sent to his room. He felt that he could not attend to the business of the court, and sent for a lawyer of his acquaintance, made over to him a minute of his cases, with instructions to have them postponed if possible, and if not to appear for him. He then tried to consider what he ought to do in regard to his own condition as a sinner before God. It was not so much the fear of punishment that distressed him, as an overwhelming sense of guilt! “Oh!” he exclaimed, again and again, “what a sinner! What a sinner I have been! What a sinner I am! Can there be mercy for a wretch like me! God have mercy on me a sinner.”

After some hours he ordered his horse, and started for home. He passed another night of horror on the way—excusing himself for his speedy return, by saying what was very true, “that he did not feel well.”

The second day, as he rode along, he found his heart going out more frequently in prayer, not so much for pardon as for deliverance from sin. He loathed himself for his vileness, and longed to be delivered from the power of sin. And he began to think of Jesus more and more as a Saviour from sin rather than from hell, until at length he found that he was looking to Jesus to save him from his sins. “Yes,” said he, “he came to save sinners—not the righteous, but sinners. And his name was called Jesus, because he saves his people from their sins. Will he not save me? But I am not one of his people. I am an outcast. I have betrayed him in the house of his friends. Can he, will he save me?” And the Spirit said, “Come unto me all ye that are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest. And whosoever cometh I will in nowise cast out.” “Surely,” he replied, “that includes my case. Blessed Jesus, save me. Save or I perish. Save, I cannot save myself. Save, I give myself into thy hands. Yes, I take thee for my Saviour. Thou wilt save me. Thou dost save me. Oh, precious, precious Saviour! Thou art indeed the Lord of my heart. Show me what thou wilt have me to do. I have nothing but sin, but thou hast all needful righteousness to plead for me. Be my intercessor. Be my Redeemer. Yes, thou wilt forgive —thou hast already pardoned. I trust my soul to thee, and I believe that thou art able and willing to keep it to the day of redemption.”

His distress was gone. He had found hope—he had found peace—he had found joy. He rode on home with a glad heart. What now had become of all his lofty aspirations for worldly fame and wealth. What did he care now for position in society, for professional reputation, for all indeed that but three days ago enlisted his desires. He counted them as less than vanity and nothing. One only question now filled all his heart, and that was “Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?”

He could understand now what Theodosia had meant when she talked so much about obedience to the Master’s will. It was with these feelings he rode into the town, ignorant of all that had transpired since he left—knowing nothing of the effect which his letter had produced on Theodosia; nothing of her baptism; nothing of the meeting which was in progress. He saw the light in the court house, and heard the singing—dismounted and approached the door—and learned that it was a Baptist meeting. Without further question he went in and sat down.

The sermon was on the importance of Christians professing Christ before the world. And at its close, the announcement was made that the church was ready to receive applications for membership—and candidates for admission were requested to take a designated seat while the brethren sang a hymn. They had scarcely commenced the second stanza when Professor Jones and Mr. Percy came from opposite sides of the room. Neither had been conscious that the other was in the house. Both their hearts were full, and who will wonder that when they met they rushed into each others’ arms, and wept upon each others’ necks!

Need I tell how Theodosia drew her heavy veil down over her face, and how her heart beat audibly while she listened for the words that should explain this mystery?

She was not kept long in suspense, Mr. Percy was the first to relate his experience of grace. He dated his conversion only a few hours back. “This very day,” said he, “for the first time I have been enabled to realize the pardon of my sins. I fancied some years ago that I had been converted, but am now convinced that I was self-deceived.” He then began at his early conviction of sin, and related the history of his connection with the Presbyterians—his recent examination of the subject of baptism. Though fully convinced that immersion was the only baptism, he had felt that it would be ruinous to his worldly prospects to change his church connections; and he told how it was that his sin had found him out in a distant town—what agony of mind he had endured for the past two days, and how it pleased God to speak peace to his soul as he was coming home. That he had seen the light in the court house, and learning that it was a Baptist meeting, had come in with the determination to ask for baptism.

I need not detain the reader by any account of the experience of grace which was related by Professor Jones. Nor need I attempt to describe the emotions of Theodosia, her mother, or Mrs. Jones, while this scene was passing. I will simply say that Uncle Jones and Mr. Percy, with some half a dozen others, were received, and Sabbath morning set as the time for their baptism.

The Tenth Night’s Study.

Which is mainly devoted to the subject of “Close Communion.”

Tenth Night’s Study.

In accordance with the request expressed by Mrs. Jones, as her visitors were about to leave on the previous night, our company of inquirers met at her house to hear her complaint about close communion. This subject had now assumed a new and touching interest to her. It had associated itself with her domestic affections. She felt that henceforth, in a very important sense, she must be separated from her husband; and though from the moment that she saw he had decided upon being baptized, she had, from courtesy and affection, refrained from any further argument to him—yet her heart was full of reasons, which she longed for an opportunity to pour out upon some one else, showing that, in this particular at least, the Baptists were the most bigoted, selfish, conceited, and uncharitable people that ever deserved the name of Christians. Mrs. Ernest, though she had entertained the same opinion until her daughter and her brother had become associated with the people she had formerly so much condemned, yet was now almost ready to admit that they might be right in this, as well as other things. In truth, she was like a great multitude of both sexes in all our religious bodies, who never have any opinion of their own upon any disputed point of faith or practice. She had always had full faith in the learning and the piety of her brother Jones and her pastor Johnson. What they said was true, she never thought of doubting. They were, to her, infallible as the priest to a Catholic. What had she to do with these knotty questions? Had not her pastor spent his life in studying them? and was it not in part for this that he was paid, to do the people’s thinking for them, and tell them what was the true faith and practice of a Gospel church?

But now, when her brother doubted the pastor’s word, and even Theodosia had gotten the better of him in the argument, her confidence was gone; her mind was all unsettled; she knew not where to look for truth; she must have time to choose anew her spiritual guide; and in doing this, she was likely to be influenced more by her feelings than her judgment.

Mr. Courtney found Mrs. Ernest and Theodosia waiting for him when he called to accompany them to the Professor’s residence; and even Edwin had been diligently studying his lessons, that he might gain time to go with them and listen to the discussion. On their arrival, they found that the Rev. Dr. McNought, the President of the college, had called to take a friendly cup of tea; and, at the urgent request of both the Professor and Mrs. Jones, he consented to remain and take part in the conversation. Uncle Jones stepped out for a moment, and Mrs. Jones introduced the subject by saying:

“Don’t you think it hard, Doctor, that my husband has placed himself in a position that will forever prevent us from communing together at the table of the Lord? I declare it almost breaks my heart when I think of it.”

“It does indeed seem hard, madam; but we all know that Professor Jones has only acted in accordance with the requirements of his conscience. I do not think that any one who knows him can find any reason to blame him for any thing but too great haste in making his decision. If he had taken more time, and examined the whole subject with proper care, he must have come to different conclusions.”

“No, doctor, Mr. Jones did not act hastily. This is no new subject to him. He has been laboring over it for months, and I feared how it would end. He has examined it with the most careful attention, and decided with cool and prayerful deliberation. He knows every inch of the ground over which he has passed, and can give you a reason for every change of opinion that he has made. He is not a man lightly to change his faith on any superficial investigation; and that is what so much troubles me. I know when his mind is once decided, and he has openly expressed his conviction, he is immovable as the Rock of Gibraltar. I have no hope of ever winning him back. His path and mine are henceforth separate: I am a Presbyterian, he is a Baptist. He will abandon his professorship; he will engage in the work of the ministry. I shall go and listen to his preaching; I shall be present when he administers the Supper of the Lord, and neither I nor his sister here —who loves him more than any one in the world except myself—neither of us can partake of the elements at the table where our own brother and husband is presiding. He will be bound to reject us from the company of those whom he will call the saints of God, as though we were not Christians, and never expected to commune together in heaven.”

“As for me,” said Mrs. Ernest, “if brother ever becomes the pastor of a church, and thinks that I ought to be baptized, I shall let him baptize me. I suspect he is as competent to judge of the meaning of the Scripture as Mr. Johnson, if he only took the same pains to study into it. But I don’t see why the Baptists can’t act like other Christians. We always invite them to our table— why should they not invite us to theirs? Don’t we all trust in the same Saviour; and are we not all seeking the same heaven? I wonder if they expect there will be two tables up there, and they can sit down by themselves in the very presence of Jesus, and send every one who has not been under the water to another apartment? No, no! we will all commune together there, and we ought all to commune together here. I don’t blame brother or Theodosia for becoming Baptists, for I know they were compelled to do it by a sense of duty; but I do blame the Baptists for being so bigoted and uncharitable, and acting as though they thought nobody was good enough for heaven but themselves; and I don’t see as they are so much better than other people, after all.”

“You place the matter on the right ground,” replied Dr. McNought. “Every man ought to be fully persuaded in his own mind, and then ought to be at liberty to act out his own convictions of duty. We demand this for ourselves, we ought to concede it to others. If any one feels that he cannot obey Christ without being immersed, let him be immersed; but let him not say, that because his conscience requires immersion, that therefore every person’s must. I profess to love the Lord Jesus, and I desire sincerely and honestly, if I know my own heart, to obey all his commandments. But while Professor Jones has become fully convinced that the Lord commanded us to be immersed after we believe, I am as fully convinced that he commanded us to be sprinkled while we were yet unconscious babes. My conscience, therefore, is satisfied; and if I should be immersed, I should commit a grievous sin, for I would be doing that in professed obedience to Christ which Christ has never commanded. Now, Baptists have no right to ask me to violate my conscience, nor (I say it with all due respect to you, Mr. Courtney) have they any right to exclude me from the table of the Lord for not doing what I regard as a sin.”

“You set the subject in a very strong light,” replied Mr. Courtney, “and I am glad you do so. I wish to meet this difficulty fairly and candidly. I seek no evasion, and am willing to submit our faith and our practice, in this and every other particular, to the sternest and strictest Scriptural tests. If we are wrong, no people in the world should sooner hasten to get right than we, who have no law but the Scripture, and no leader but Christ. And now, let us look at your argument. You say that a church has no Scriptural right to exclude from her communion any person who professes to love the Lord Jesus, and desires to obey all his commandments, whether he regards those commandments in the same light which the church does or not. A great many professed Christians seem to see the subject in the same light. They say it is the Lord’s table; and because it is his, and not ours, the church in which the table is set has no right to exclude from it any who profess to love the Lord, and who desire to approach it.”

“Certainly,” said Mrs. Jones; “I do not see how any body of Christians could ever have felt disposed to arrogate to themselves the authority to determine who shall and who shall not approach the table of the Lord, or upon what authority they can possibly rest so presumptuous a claim.”

“Doubtless, then,” mildly replied Mr. Courtney, “you will think it is a great exhibition of personal self-confidence, or of Baptist assumption on my part, when I assure you that I can prove, not only to my own satisfaction, but also to yours and Dr. McNought’s—

“I. That every church of Christ has the exclusive right within itself to decide who shall be participants in its communion.

“II. That all Pedobaptists, including Presbyterians, are accustomed to recognize and exercise this right, on the same general principles that Baptists do; and,

“III. That no church can refuse or neglect to exercise that right without being guilty of open rebellion against the positive requirements of the law of Christ.”

“I don’t know,” replied she, “what you may be able to do about the first and the last of your three propositions; but I am sure you can’t make me believe that Presbyterians and Methodists either believe in or practice close communion like the Baptists. You and my husband have proved so many strange things from the Scriptures since he has been engaged in this investigation, that I won’t deny that you can prove any thing you say you can, which depends upon them. But the faith and practice of our church, I am sure, I know as much about as you do. And I know we have never set any such restrictions around our table, as you habitually set around yours. We have always regarded it as the Lord’s table, and we constantly invite to our communion all who profess to love the name of Jesus.”

“You almost tempt me, madam, to prove my second proposition first, and show you at once that you Presbyterians are as close in your communion as we are, and that the only difference between us is that you are more open in your baptism.”

“I wish you would, and I think then I could better attend to your proof on the other points.”

“Very well—since you desire it, we will take this up first, and then return to the other. If I did not misunderstand you, it is your opinion that all who profess to love the Lord Jesus should be invited to his table, and that the practice of your people is in accordance with this rule.”

“Certainly; it is the Lord’s table and not ours. And we do not undertake to decide on the fitness of those who approach it. Let every one judge for himself. ‘To his own master he standeth or falleth;’ whoever thinks he has the love of Jesus in his heart, let him come.”

“Then of course you invite the Roman Catholic, whom you regard as a follower and subject of anti-Christ, the man of sin—the great enemy and persecutor of the church, of whom it was foretold that ‘he should wear out the saints of the Most High.’ He will assure you that although he loves, and reverences, and worships the Blessed Virgin Mother of God, he also loves her Son and the holy child Jesus. And he will assure you, moreover, that his conscience absolutely demands of him to be the very creature of the Pope, which he is known to be. If he should renounce his faith and practice, he feels that he would be guilty of a mortal sin. Of course, Doctor, you would not exclude him ‘for not doing what he would regard as sin.’

“Then there is the Unitarian. He claims that he loves Christ and delights in his service, although he denies his divinity, and regards him only as a creature. He is sincere and honest in his faith; of course you make him welcome. He says he could not worship Christ without being guilty of idolatry; and no idolater hath any part in the kingdom of heaven. You surely will not reject him for not doing what he honestly believes would place his soul in danger of destruction.

“And near him stands a Universalist. You invite him, of course, for he says he loves Christ better than any of us, and has more reason to love him. We can only love him as the Saviour of those who believe and repent, but he can love him as the Saviour of all the human race; and he will assure you that he would regard it as dishonorable to God to condemn a soul to endless punishment for the few sins he might be able to commit in this life, that he would feel himself fearfully guilty should he venture in his heart to believe that he will do it. And I am sure, Doctor, you could not, according to the rule you laid down awhile ago, exclude him for not believing what, in his opinion, he could not believe without sin.

“There are also many people in the world who come to your meetings, who have never connected themselves with any religious society, who, nevertheless, make great professions at times of their love to Jesus. They thank their God that they are so much better than many members of your church. Not only will they assure you that they love God better than you or I, but can boast they have always loved him, and never have done much, if any thing, for which they think he can complain of them. Upon what ground can you exclude these: since, according to your rule, it is the Lord’s table, and every one is entitled to judge for himself of his fitness to approach it? How dare you say that each and all of these shall not come and fill your table every time the cloth is spread, mixing with yourselves as every way your equals, and showing to the world that they are in all respects equally entitled to this great and distinctive privilege of the church of Jesus Christ?”

“Oh, no, Mr. Courtney, I did not mean that. I don’t want to commune with Roman Catholics, or Unitarians, or Universalists, or non-professors; and we Presbyterians never have been accustomed to invite to our table any such people. All I meant to say was, that we invite all those whom we have reason to regard as converted men or women, and who have made an open profession of their faith in Christ.”

“Ah, madam, that is quite a different thing from inviting all who profess to love the Lord of the table. It seems then, after all, that you, not they, are to be the judge of their fitness. But will Dr. McNought agree to this new rule? He says, if I did not misunderstand him, ‘No church has any right or ought to have any inclination to exclude any one from the table of the Lord who professes to love the Lord Jesus, and to desire to obey all his commandments, and who is sincere and honest in his conviction that his faith and practice is correct, however widely it may differ from that of the church whose communion he seeks.’”

“Perhaps I expressed myself a little too loosely,” replied the Doctor. “I did not intend to say that the church is to have no discretion in the matter; but only that she has no right to exclude any whom she recognizes as genuine and evangelical Christians. Now, you Baptists do not pretend to doubt (at least you often say so) that Presbyterians and Methodists, and members of other evangelical churches, are just as good Christians as you are yourselves, and every way as worthy and well qualified for the table of the Lord as you are, saving only that we have not been under the water; and as we are prevented from going under the water by our conscientious regard to what we understand to be the commandments of Christ, you have no right and ought to have no disposition to exclude us on that account.”

“Never mind the Baptists just now, Doctor. We will come to them presently. We are now investigating the practice of Presbyterians, and the principles on which it rests, and we have progressed thus far. You do not, it seems, leave it for every one to determine for himself in regard to his fitness to commune. You do not invite all who may think themselves worthy and well qualified, but those only whom you have reason to think are converted or regenerated men—and the testimony on which you regard them as such is the fact that they are members in good standing in any of these churches which require evidence of conversion as a prerequisite to membership.”

“Precisely so, sir,” replied the Doctor. “I could not have described our practice more perfectly myself.”

“But there is another thing which you Presbyterians require besides evidence of conversion, and which you will no more dispense with than you will with that.”

“And what is that, pray?” asked Mrs. Jones. “You seem to know more about us than we do ourselves.”

“You shall yourself answer your own question, madam. When one not previously a member of any religious denomination is converted from his sins, repents and believes, and gives good evidence that he has become a new creature in Christ Jesus, do you at once, without any further preliminaries, invite him to your communion table?”

“Certainly we do, as soon as he has made a public profession and united with the church. We could not, of course, invite one who was not a member of any church.”

“Very good; but in what manner does he become a member? Is he not received in the ordinance of baptism?”

“Of course—if he has not been baptized in infancy he must be baptized. Baptism is the door of entrance into the church, and no one can be a member who has not been baptized.”

“Perhaps, Doctor, you may be more familiar with the practice of your denomination than Mrs. Jones. Do you agree with her that no one is recognized as a full member till he has been baptized; or do you invite him at once to your table as soon as you are satisfied that he is a converted man?”

“Our rules in regard to this matter,” replied the Doctor, “are clearly laid down on pages 504 and 505 of the Confession of Faith, ‘on the admission of persons to sealing ordinances’:

“‘Children born within the pale of the visible church, and dedicated to God in baptism, are under the inspection and government of the church, and are to be taught to read and repeat the Catechism, the Apostles’ Creed, and the Lord’s Prayer. They are to be taught to pray, to abhor sin, to fear God, and to obey the Lord Jesus Christ; and when they come to years of discretion, if they be free from scandal, appear sober and steady, and to have sufficient knowledge to discern the Lord’s body, they ought to be informed that it is their duty and their privilege to come to the Lord’s Supper.’ ‘When unbaptized persons apply for admission into the church, they shall, in ordinary cases, after giving satisfaction with respect to their knowledge and piety, make a public profession of their faith in the presence of the congregation; and thereupon be baptized.’”

“And on page 456,” replied Mr. Courtney, “you will find this rule—‘All baptized persons are members of the church, are under its care, and subject to its government and discipline; and when they have arrived at years of discretion, they are bound to perform all the duties of church members.’

“It would seem, therefore, that although you are, according to your ‘Confession of Faith,’ at liberty to dispense with any public profession of faith in the case of those baptized in infancy, you are not to dispense with baptism. All the baptized, whether converted or unconverted, are, when they come to years of discretion, ‘bound to perform all the duties of church members.’ And if the celebration of the Holy Supper is one of the duties of church members, they are bound to commune; but no one whom you regard as unbaptized, however pious he may be, can be permitted to approach your table, any more than any one whom we regard as unbaptized can come to ours. What then is the difference between your practice and ours? In what respect is your communion more open than ours? Simply and only in this: That you, according to page 456 of your Confession of Faith, admit the unreligious and unconverted, who have never even professed to be the subjects of regenerating grace, provided they were baptized in their infancy—while we admit none who have not made for themselves a credible profession of their repentance and faith. I will, however, do you the justice to say, that many of your churches in this country so far repudiate your own rules, as not to invite or require the baptized children to come to the table of the Lord till they have given evidence of conversion; and these bodies and ourselves, therefore, stand on precisely the same ground— that is, we each require evidence of both conversion and baptism, before we admit or invite any to our communion.”

“But yet,” said Mrs. Ernest, “we can’t stand upon the same ground, for we always invite you, and you never invite us.”

“The reason is not, madam, that we do not act upon the same principle, but that we differ in regard to what baptism is, and consequently as to who have been baptized. You consider all baptized who have been sprinkled in infancy. We regard those only as baptized who have been immersed on a profession of their faith. But you no more extend your invitation to commune to those whom you consider unbaptized than we do. Your baptism reaches further than ours, but your invitation to commune never reaches beyond your baptism. Do you not see, therefore, that all our difference of opinion is simply about baptism, and not about communion? Show us that the sprinkling of infants is Scriptural baptism, and we can, and will at once extend our invitation to the communion so as to embrace you all. But until you can show us that, you surely cannot ask us to invite those whom we regard as unbaptized, while you cannot invite those whom you regard as unbaptized?

“Except in case of the children of your own church members, you require both conversion and baptism as prerequisites to communion. And for the most part, in this country, though not in Europe, you repudiate your Confession so far as to require it even of them. You refuse to commune with Universalists, and Unitarians, and Roman Catholics, because, although you think they have been baptized, you do not believe they have experienced the regeneration of the Gospel. You refuse to commune with a newly converted person, though satisfied that he is really born again, till he has publicly professed his faith, and been baptized. It was on this ground that Professor Moses Stuart, one of your ablest writers and most learned men, said that if a pious member of the society of Quakers or Friends should so far forsake his principles, as to desire to commune with him at the table of the Lord, he must refuse unless he would be first baptized.

“Precisely so it is with us. We also require evidence, both of conversion and of baptism. We ask for neither more nor less than you do. Are you not satisfied? or shall we spend further time upon this point?”

“I did not,” replied the Doctor, “need to be told that Presbyterians require baptism as a prerequisite to communion. No one has ever doubted it, so far as I have been informed. I am sure no one ever had any reason to doubt it.”

“On what ground, then, do you complain of us so bitterly, since we require nothing more than you do?”

“We do not complain of you for requiring baptism as a necessary and invariable prerequisite to communion, but for requiring immersion, and thus setting up your judgment against that of the whole Christian world. You will not only have baptism, but you must have your own baptism—whereas, we receive that of all other denominations, including yours. How then can you say that we stand on the same ground?”

“I do not say that we stand on the same ground as regards baptism. Here I know we differ as far as a few drops sprinkled upon the forehead of an unconscious babe, differs from the plunging of a believing Christian man or woman into a liquid grave. But in regard to communion, we agree, at least, so far as this subject under discussion is concerned. That is, we both require baptism as preparatory to a Scriptural approach to the Lord’s Table. This much you freely admit. You admit also, that no Presbyterian Church is accustomed to invite or permit the approach of those to your communion whom you regard as unbaptized. You will admit, moreover, that you have somewhere, in what you call ‘The Presbyterian Church,’ the power to exclude from your communion such as you may deem unworthy. I need not, therefore, dwell any longer on this point. You cannot deny that I have fully established my second proposition, which was, as you will remember— That Pedobaptist churches, even Presbyterians, are accustomed, as well as Baptists, to recognize and exercise the right to determine for themselves whom it is proper and expedient to admit to their communion. And I have proved, also, that you as well as we refuse to admit any one who has not, in your opinion, been baptized.

“So far we are perfectly agreed; but because you consider many persons as baptized whom we regard as unbaptized, you can invite many whom we must refuse. Here, then, is the gist of the whole dispute. Now, let me ask you one question. Does not the Presbyterian Church claim and exercise the right to decide for herself what baptism is, according to her understanding of the Scriptures?”

“Certainly she does,” replied the Doctor, “and you may find her decision, with the proof-texts on which it rests, recorded on page 146 of the Confession of Faith: ‘Dipping of the person into the water is not necessary; but baptism is rightly administered by pouring or sprinkling.’”

“Why then should you or any one complain if a Baptist Church should feel that she had equally the right to decide for herself according to her understanding of the Scriptures, and should give her opinion and the proof-texts on which it rests? And what if she should come to the conclusion, that ‘dipping the person in the water is necessary,’ and that baptism cannot be administered at all ‘by pouring,’ or ‘by sprinkling?’ What then? Must she act as though she did not believe it? Must she submit her judgment to yours, and receive as baptism, on your recommendation, what she solemnly believes and declares is no baptism? Yet this is what you so modestly require her to do, when you deny to her the right to exclude from her communion the sprinkled and the poured-on members of Pedobaptist societies. If sprinkling and pouring are not baptism, then they have not been baptized; and if they have not been baptized, then they are not Scripturally prepared for communion.”

“But how is it made so certain,” asked Mrs. Ernest, “that no one can be permitted to commune who has not been baptized? I know it is the common practice of the churches of all denominations, but I don’t remember any express declaration of Scripture on which it rests.”

“It is not necessary, madam, to have any express precept, when we have a plain and unmistakable example. But in regard to this point, we have what is equivalent to both.

“We have the often repeated command—Repent and be baptized, believe and be baptized—showing that baptism was at once to follow penitence and faith, without any intervening act. Then we have the unvarying example, many thousand times repeated, showing that this command was thus understood and thus literally obeyed. They believed and were baptized. Baptism instantly followed the profession of their faith, leaving no time for the observance of any other rite between; and then we read, Acts ii. 46, that after their baptism they continued ‘in breaking of bread.’

“Moreover, the sacrament of the Supper is a church ordinance. It was ordained to be observed by the church, assembled together in a church capacity. And of course no one could participate in it but church members. And no one has ever been regarded as a church member till he had been baptized. This was the door of entrance, the initiatory rite by which one was received among and united to the people of God, and so became entitled to the privileges of the visible kingdom of Christ. Hence the Apostle, in writing to the ancient churches, frequently alluded to their baptism; always addressing them as baptized persons, who had put on Christ in baptism; who had been buried with him by baptism; who had been planted together with him by baptism; who had been in a certain sense regenerated by baptism; and who were in some sort saved by baptism. This is so evident that no sect or denomination have ever considered the unbaptized as church members and communicants. The open communion Baptists are, so far as I know, the first and the only Christians who have advocated the giving of the communion to those whom they regarded as unbaptized.

“That godly, learned man and excellent commentator Dr. Doddridge, author of ‘The Rise and Progress of Religion in the Soul,’ and many other excellent works, says: ‘It is certain that Christians in general have always been spoken of as baptized persons by the most ancient Fathers, and it is also certain, so far as our knowledge of primitive Christianity extends, that no unbaptized person received the Lord’s Supper.’—(Miscellaneous Works, p. 510.) Dr. Wall, the great champion of Pedobaptism, says expressly: ‘No church ever gave the communion to any persons before they were baptized.’ ‘Among all the absurdities that ever were held, none ever maintained that any persons should partake of the communion before they were baptized.’ Lord Chancellor King, of the Church of England, in his work on the Church, says, page 196: ‘Baptism was always precedent to the Lord’s Supper, and none ever received the Eucharist till he had been baptized.’ And those who might have any doubt about this, he refers to the testimony of Justin Martyr, who describes the practice of the primitive churches in his famous ‘Apology,’ addressed to the Roman Emperor, about the year A. D. 138 or 139. You will find a translation of so much of this memorable document as refers to this subject, in one of your own historians, Rev. Lyman Coleman’s Apostolical and Primitive Church, page 340. ‘After baptizing the believer and making him one with us, we conduct him to the brethren, as they are called, where they are assembled fervently to offer up their common supplication for themselves, for him who has been illuminated, and for all men everywhere, that we may live worthy of the truth which we have learned, and be found to have kept the commandments, so that we may be saved with an everlasting salvation. After prayer, we salute one another with a kiss. After this, bread and a cup of wine and water are brought to the president, which he takes, and offers up praise, etc.’”

“Oh, that is enough, Mr. Courtney. I did not want to know what Justin Martyr, or Lord King, or Dr. Wall, or any body else said about it, but only what was in the Scriptures. If I understand aright, you Baptists claim that your faith and practice rests exclusively on them.”

“That is very true, Mrs. Ernest; but I thought it might be satisfactory to you to know that the same Scriptures which have led us to require baptism as an essential prerequisite to communion, have been equally able to convince all our most learned and zealous opponents, so that in whatever else we may be found to differ, we agree in this. A sect of the Baptists themselves are; I believe, the first and only people who have ever attempted to show from the Scriptures that the communion of the church may be shared with the unbaptized; and they were led to this evidently from their desire to be free from the reproach of close communion. They could not deny that immersion was the only baptism, and therefore they could not but regard their sprinkled brethren as unbaptized, and they could only commune with them by denying that baptism was an essential prerequisite to the Eucharist. But not even Robert Hall, who was the leader, or at least, the ablest champion of his sect, with all his vast learning and surpassing eloquence, could persuade the Pedobaptists that they ought to dispense with baptism in their communicants, though many of them and some Baptists profess to have been convinced that Baptists ought to dispense with it in regard to those who wish to approach their table. But the great body of the Baptist Churches still agree with their Pedobaptist brethren in requiring baptism before communion, and we must continue to do so till some one can find in the Scriptures some precept or example for reversing the order so plainly established by Christ and the Apostles, which places repentance and faith first, then baptism, and then the breaking of bread and the other ordinances of the church of God.

“It is as evident as any thing can be, that if any Jew or Gentile had professed his faith in Christ in the Apostles’ days, and yet had neglected or refused to put on Christ in his holy ordinance of baptism, he would never have been invited to the privileges of a church member.”

“Of course he would not have been,” replied the Doctor, “for there was then no room at all for doubt about the nature or the subjects of baptism. The Apostles had the act visibly set before their eyes by Christ himself. And the people all knew what was intended when they were commanded to be baptized. If any one refused or neglected to obey, it was prima facie evidence that he was no Christian, and consequently an unfit subject for communion. It showed that he either did not believe or was disobedient at heart. The early churches, therefore, were bound to reject all who would not be baptized. But now the case is very different. The mode of baptism has now, in many minds, become a matter of great uncertainty. Some think it is one thing and some another; and some think it any one of three things. Now, since good Christians may thus, while they seek and intend to do right, yet fall into the wrong, how can any church take it upon herself to decide that one of these modes is right and all others are wrong, and so exclude all who do not conform to her standard? for now a failure to conform is not, as in the Apostles’ days, an evidence of an unbelieving or a rebellious spirit, but only of a mistaken apprehension of duty, into which the most sincere and pious Christian is liable to fall.”

“I acknowledge, Doctor, that this argument has a great deal of plausibility about it. It is the best that can be offered in favor of open communion, and has succeeded in imposing upon the minds of some eminent Baptists. But now, if you will give me your candid attention for a few minutes, I will show you that it is utterly destitute of any Scriptural foundation or logical force.”

“You speak very confidently, sir, and I will gladly give you the attention you require; but if you can do what you say, I will concede that you are a master in logic—for I conceive it perfectly unanswerable.”

“I know, Doctor, that it is the best and strongest argument which can be made for open communion; and yet I am sure I can satisfy you that it ought not to have the very slightest weight in the decision of this controversy —because it has not even the shadow of a foundation in the Word of God on which to rest. But before I enter upon it further, I will, with your consent, go back and take up the first general proposition which I purposed to establish when we entered upon this discussion, and that was, as you will recollect, That every church of Christ has the exclusive right within herself to decide who shall be partakers of her communion. We have seen already in what manner your church and others are accustomed to exercise this right. It is simply the right to determine who shall be entitled to the privileges of membership—a right which must of necessity belong to every such organization in order to preserve its purity or perpetuity.”

“I do not,” said the Doctor, “feel disposed to dispute with you about this. If a Baptist church is a church of Christ, I am willing to grant that within certain limits it is to judge of the qualifications of its members and communicants.”

“What are the ‘limits,’ Doctor, to which you refer?”

“The requirements of the Scriptures. She is to require only such qualifications as the Scriptures demand.”

“But who is to judge of what the Scriptures demand, Doctor, the church or the applicants for her communion?”

“She must, of course, judge for herself. The Scripture is given for her guidance. She must examine for herself, and be governed by her understanding of its instructions. Those who are not of her membership can have no right to dictate to her in the matter of their own reception—that is self-evident.”

“But now, Doctor, what if she should, upon a careful examination of the Scriptures come to the conclusion, as your church has done, that no one is permitted to commune that has not been baptized?”

“Then as a matter of course she will do as we do— admit none who have not been baptized.”

“But suppose she should come to the additional conclusion that sprinkling and pouring are not baptism, and that, contrary to the decision of your church, dipping of the person in the water is necessary to constitute a Scriptural baptism—what then?”

“Why, then I suppose she must admit none who have not been thus ‘dipped,’ for she cannot recognize any others as baptized.”

“Of course she must. That is self-evident. And now, Doctor, I trust you see the fallacy of your boasted argument for open communion; for if every church is to decide for herself who shall commune, subject only to the laws of Christ, and if she is to be the interpreter and judge of these laws, and should be led to determine that these laws demand that every communicant shall have been immersed, what could she do for those who had been only sprinkled or poured upon? Must she not reject them, however good and pious they might be? They may be sincere and honest—they may be intelligent and learned; but they are not to decide this question for the church. Those without cannot dictate the terms of communion to those who are within. The church must for herself examine. For herself she must decide, and upon her own decision she must act. What if the nature of baptism be the subject of doubt to many good and holy men—she as a church has nothing to do with their doubts, unless they are her own members. What if good and pious men, seeking to go right, do sometimes go wrong, she as a church is not to forsake what she thinks right, and go wrong too, merely to accommodate them. On the contrary, she is to stand firmly, like a great rock in the wilderness, a fixed and settled way-mark, which men may see afar off in their wanderings, and by it be guided back into the old paths. If others, like the mariner at sea without his chart and compass, wander to and fro, being wafted about with every wind of doctrine—she is to stand like the light-house, against whose base the winds and waves beat alike in vain, standing ever erect, and sending far across the ocean of doubts and uncertainties the calm and changeless light by which they may direct their course into the destined haven.

“Now look at your argument again. In the days of the Apostles, every one knew certainly what baptism was, and every church was bound to exclude all who had not been baptized. But now, many good and pious people have become doubtful what baptism is. Some think it one thing, and some another; and therefore no church of Jesus Christ ought to have any opinion about it; and every one ought to be received who thinks himself baptized. The church has no right to decide even as to what constitutes the very act by which men are admitted to her membership, or as to who shall be permitted to enjoy the peculiar and distinctive privileges of members. This must all be left to the good and pious, without her ranks, to determine for her. If they have doubts, she must give up her right to determine for herself, and humbly receive those who judge themselves to be worthy and well qualified, although she may have no doubts at all. Do you not see, that if the principle on which your argument rests be once admitted, it will destroy not only the independence, but the very organization of the churches? The principle is this—A Baptist Church has decided that certain prerequisites are needful to her membership or communion; but there are certain persons, out of her ranks, who think she ought not to require these preliminaries, and demand the privileges of church members without having complied with them. The church consents to their demand—admits them on their terms—abandons her own judgment, and repudiates her own rules—does she not at once lose her distinctive character, and cease to be a Baptist Church? Is she a church at all, when those without make laws for her—decide questions of faith and practice for her, and determine who shall take the place of members at her table, and by what rules she shall exercise her discipline?—for if they determine that she has no right to exclude a member for want of baptism, they can, of course, with equal reason determine that she has no right to exclude any one for any other cause.

“Look at your argument again. It takes it for granted, that because you and some other good and pious men doubt about the nature of the act of baptism, that therefore no one can arrive at any certainty in regard to it; and therefore no church of Christ has any right to take any decisive action in regard to it. If this be true in respect to baptism, it is, of course, equally so in regard to other things; and the necessary result will be, that no church has a right, in regard to any subject, to hold opinions, and to act upon them, if good and pious people of other denominations chance to differ from them. Your argument, if it is good for any thing at all, destroys all church independence and all church sovereignty, and makes it necessary for every church of Christ to go out and ask those who are not of her membership, and have no special interest in her affairs, what she may believe, and teach, and do; and this in regard to matters which are to her of the most vital importance, involving her very existence, by determining for her who she shall admit to the privileges of membership.”

“Oh, no, Mr. Courtney, I did not intend to intimate that the church had no right to deny membership to those who might sincerely and honestly differ from her on matters about which good men have not been able to agree. But we were speaking of only occasional communion.”

“The principle is the same, Doctor, whether the communion be occasional or continual. If he may commune once, why not twice? If twice, why not a dozen times— and, indeed, every time the table is spread? And if he may, of right, continually enjoy this peculiar and distinctive privilege of church membership, why not every other privilege? If we have no right to exclude you from communing with us occasionally, we have none to exclude you perpetually—and if we have no right to exclude you, who are not a member of our church, we could not, of course, exclude one who is a member for a similar cause. Your right to determine for a church the terms of its communion, includes the right to determine for it any other principle of faith or practice. If you may dictate who shall commune once, you may with equal propriety dictate who shall commune all the time. And yet, you modestly require us, because forsooth you and some other good and pious men are doubtful about the nature of baptism, to yield our convictions to your doubts, and assure us that we have no right to decide for ourselves upon the nature of the very act of initiation into our membership—forgetting, of course, that your own church has positively decided for herself, page 146 of the Confession, where she declares that ‘dipping of the person in water is not necessary;’ and on page 431 (chap. vii. of Directory), where she absolutely requires the minister to ‘baptize the child with water, by pouring or sprinkling it on the face of the child, without adding any other ceremony.’ Presbyterians can decide for themselves what baptism is; so can Methodists; so can Lutherans; so can Episcopalians; so can Roman Catholics; so can every body else who will decide that it is sprinkling or pouring. But if the Baptists claim the same privilege, they are counted guilty of the most unheard-of presumption, and all the Pedobaptist world desires to know by what authority they venture, like other churches, to think for themselves, investigate for themselves, and come to their own conclusions; or, if they must think, and investigate, and decide, yet you demand to know how they can dare to carry out their convictions in their practice.”

“Oh, no, Mr. Courtney, we do not,” said Mrs. Jones, “object to your deciding for yourselves. It is to the nature of your decision that we object. If you had decided, like all the rest of the Christian world, that baptism was sprinkling or pouring, or that it was of little consequence which way it was done, no one could object to your exercise of the abstract right to decide for yourselves. But we do think it is evidence of either bigotry or self- conceit, when you set up your opinions against the whole religious world.”

“Your idea of church independence, then, is simply this: Every Baptist church has a full and perfect right to think and decide for herself on all matters of faith and practice, provided she will always think and decide just as your church does.

“But, Doctor, I have another objection to your argument, which makes me wonder how it could ever for a single moment have imposed upon any thinking Baptist —and that is, that it assumes, and takes for granted as the very basis on which it rests, that no one now can certainly know what the act of baptism was. In the days of the Apostles, you say, there could not be any doubt about this, and therefore all who would not be baptized, must of necessity have been excluded; but now it is so very uncertain, that good men, meaning to go right, may yet go wrong, and must not on that account be excluded. Let us look at it again in this light. The Apostles knew what baptism was, for they had seen the Saviour himself baptized. The early churches knew, for they had seen the Apostles baptize according to the pattern which Jesus showed in Jordan. But we who live in these ends of the earth, are entirely dependent for our information on the written Word of God. The Holy Spirit of Inspiration attempted to convey to us in writing such an account of the organization of a church, and the ordinances of Christ’s visible kingdom, that we might continue them to the end of time; but he made such bungling work of it, that it is now absolutely impossible to find out what he meant. We can neither know who were the persons to be initiated, nor by what act they are to be brought in.

“It is true, that he commanded people first to believe and then to be baptized. It is true, that he never, in a single instance, commanded any one to be baptized who had not believed. And that there is not in the record a single case in which any but a professed believer ever was baptized, nor is there a single allusion, direct or indirect, to the baptism of an unconscious babe. And yet men say, that no one now can certainly determine that he did not command, and does not now require, that little infants who cannot believe or perform any act of intelligent worship, shall be baptized, and thus made members of his churches.

“True, his people are always spoken of as a renewed and regenerated people; as a holy and peculiar people, zealous of good works. The churches of the Scriptures were addressed as active, intelligent, and pious people. And we know, from sad and frequent observation, that the baptism of an infant does not regenerate it or make it any holier than it was before. We know that baptized children do not, on account of their baptism, grow up servers of God and of his laws, yet no one now can tell that Christ did not require these unconverted children of wrath and heirs of hell, to be brought into his church and counted among its members.

“And then as regards the act of initiation, which the Scriptures call baptism, your argument takes for granted that nobody can now tell what it was. True, the very word itself declares that it was immersion, if we should read it as we do in any other book. No scholar ever dreamed of its meaning to sprinkle or to pour, in any book except the Bible, nor in any part of the Bible but the New Testament, nor in any place in the New Testament where it does not refer to the ordinance. Everywhere else its signification is sufficiently plain. When Josephus, writing in the same language, and about the same time with the Evangelists, speaks of a youth being baptized in a lake till he was drowned, no scholar ever doubted that the lad was dipped. When he speaks of a ship being baptized in the sea, no one ever ventured to doubt that he meant to say it was sunk. No one ever doubted what Hippocrates means when he speaks of the surgeon baptizing his probe into a wound. No one doubts what Homer means when he speaks of the blacksmith baptizing a huge pole axe in water to harden the steel. Those who are engaged in teaching our young men a knowledge of the Greek language, never have any difficulty in deciding about the meaning of this word in any of the poets, or philosophers, or historians of Greece. The Lexicons of the language all agree in giving ‘to dip,’ ‘to plunge,’ as at least its primary and most common signification; and no one of them gives to sprinkle or to pour—and yet you say, no one can tell for certain that this word means to dip, and not to sprinkle or to pour.

“It is true, according to the testimony of Dr. Barnes, that this word is used in the New Testament in the place of the Hebrew word ‘tabal.’ And Professor Stuart, one of your own ablest scholars, expressly says, that this word tabal always means ‘to dip.’ It is true that in the fifteen places where Dr. Barnes says it occurs in the Old Testament, it is translated ‘dip’ or ‘plunge,’ in every place but one, and there it is ‘dyed,’ which supposed a previous act of dipping, yet no one can know that it does not mean to sprinkle or to pour.

“It is true, that your most eminent Biblical scholars, as Stuart, Kitto, Chalmers, and McKnight, agree that it meant immerse, and state expressly that immersion was the act which was performed in the first churches; and yet you say, no one can certainly know what it was which Christ commanded, and the church must now require.

“It is true, the Holy Spirit, as if to obviate the very possibility of any misunderstanding, makes frequent and varied allusions to it in the Word, speaking of it as a burial, a bath, and the like. True, he has gone into particulars, so far as to explain that it was done in the ‘rivers,’ and places where there was ‘much water:’ and that they went down into the water to do it, and came up out of the water after it was done; and yet we can’t know any thing about what it was.

“True, the history of the early churches, written by the sprinklers themselves, as the Magdeburg Centuriators, Mosheim and Neander, clearly shows that, in the language of the London Quarterly, devoted to the interests of the Church of England, ‘There can be no question that the original form of baptism—the very meaning of the word—was complete immersion, and that for at least four centuries any other form was either unknown or regarded as an exceptional, almost a monstrous case.’

“True, we can show from ancient rituals and church canons, that for more than thirteen hundred years it was the only act recognized as baptism, except in cases of alarming sickness.

“True, we have the most unexceptionable records, made by the sprinklers themselves, showing the very time and manner of the change from immersion to sprinkling, and the very decree of the Pope, on whose authority it was done; and yet you take for granted that no Baptist Church now can tell for certain which it was that Christ commanded. And on this ground you demand as a right that she shall give to those who have submitted to the Pope’s ordinance of sprinkling, under the false impression that it was baptism, the same church privileges that she offers to those who have entered into Christ’s visible kingdom through the door which he appointed.

“If you have any doubts about the nature of baptism or the subjects of baptism, you may plead them for what they are worth before his bar to whom we all must give account; but you must not expect Baptist Churches to participate in them, or to act as though it were to them a matter about which there was even the slightest uncertainty. If there are any two things which they are satisfied are clearly and definitely set forth in the Word of God, they are, that believers are the only persons commanded to be baptized, and that those commanded to be baptized are commanded to be immersed. They have therefore not even the shadow of a doubt that you are unbaptized, and if baptism is a Scriptural prerequisite, as you yourselves believe and teach, then you are not prepared and cannot claim communion at their hands, unless you undertake to decide for them whom they shall consider as baptized.”

“Oh, we are willing to acknowledge,” replied Mrs. Jones, “that we cannot demand it as a matter of right. But the courtesy, Mr. Courtney. What we may not demand as a right, we surely may claim on the ground of Christian courtesy and kindness—I had almost said upon the ground of common politeness. And now I ask you seriously to say if you do not think that you Baptists are selfish and discourteous, to say the least, in your refusal to invite any but immersed believers to sit down with you? You admit that others are just as good Christians as yourselves, do you not?”

“Certainly; we do not refuse because you are not pious, but because you have not been baptized. And you as well as we believe that the Master does not permit all Christians, but only all Christians who are members of a visible church, and who have been baptized. You never invite a person to your communion merely because you consider him a converted man and a good Christian. You wait till he has joined the church, and been baptized.”

“But we think,” said Mrs. Jones, “that we have been baptized. You will grant that we are as sincere and honest in our opinions as you are in yours. The great majority of the Christian world think our opinion better founded than yours: would it not, therefore, be proper and becoming in you to show so much respect to the decision of more than half of Christendom, and so much Christian liberality to those who conscientiously differ from you, as to extend your invitation to them, not of right, but purely out of courtesy and politeness?”

“That can never be properly called Christian courtesy, madam, which asks for the sacrifice of Christian principle—and I am quite as willing to meet the demands of open communion on this ground as on the other. But before we enter into the argument, I would like to go back and call up the third proposition, which I stated at the beginning of this discussion, and that is—That no church can either neglect or refuse to exercise the right which has been given her by her Head, to preserve the purity of her communion, without being guilty of open rebellion against the positive requirements of the law of Christ.

“We have already seen that every church possesses this right, and it is plain that the duty to exercise it follows from its possession. Somebody must decide who shall be communicants; if not, there is no bar between the church and the world. If every one who chooses may not come, who shall decide who may? We answer, the church herself.”

“By what rule?”

“By the law of Christ, as laid down in his word.”

“May she not neglect or refuse to decide for herself, and leave it to those without to come or not to come, as they may think best?”.

“No; for God has constituted her the guardian of his ordinances, which he has placed within her gates.”

“But may she not reverse his order, and give communion first, and then baptism?”

“No; she must, of course, be governed by his law.”

“May she not dispense with baptism altogether?”

“Certainly not, if his law requires it.”

“May she not treat all those as baptized who think themselves baptized?”

“No; she is to be governed by his Word as she understands it, and not as it may be understood by those without her ranks. She is to examine and decide for herself. She is to recognize and treat as baptized those only whom she believes to have actually been baptized according to the Scripture model. She is not the lawgiver, but simply the executor of the laws of Christ. She is not at liberty to set them aside for any whims of her own. Nor is she at liberty to enforce one part and not another. If, therefore, he requires baptism as a prerequisite to communion, she dare not in any case refuse or neglect to do so also. She must see his rules carried out, or she becomes unfaithful to her trust, and a rebel to her Lord.

“If you have any doubt that each church is constituted thus by Christ the guardian of her own purity, and of the sanctity of his ordinances as administered within her doors, I refer you to Romans xiv. 5, and 2 Thess. iii. 6, in which the power of the church to determine whom they will receive, and the duty of the church to withdraw from every one who walked disorderly, is distinctly recognized. But both the right and the imperious obligation for its constant, faithful, and impartial exercise, follows of necessity from the simple fact, that if the church does not herself exclude the unprepared and the unworthy, there is no one to do it; and it cannot be done at all.

“I am now ready to answer your question about the Christian courtesy of refusing to invite the unbaptized to our communion. Permit me to put it in proper form for you, and let us see how it will sound. We will suppose it to be communion day at the Baptist church, and that your church in a body comes to our door, and asks admission to our table—not as a matter of right, but on the ground of Christian courtesy. You say to us, very affectionately and kindly—Dear brethren in Christ, we are fully persuaded that no unbaptized person, according to the laws of our Redeemer, should ever be permitted to approach his table. We never permit any to come to it in our church whom we do not believe to have been baptized. We could not do it without sinning against God. We know very well, brethren, that you act upon the same rule. You agree with us that it would be very wrong and sinful to permit any to approach your table whom you do not think have been baptized. We know, also, that you believe that we have not been baptized, and consequently that you cannot permit us to approach without doing what you would regard as an act of open and deliberate rebellion against the laws of Christ. But we regard you all as Christian gentlemen and ladies, and quite familiar with the laws of politeness and Christian courtesy, and it must be very evident to you that these laws require you to invite us to your communion. You surely will not be so impolite as to refuse us.”

“Oh, Mr. Courtney, that is too bad! Surely you have no right to look upon us in such a light as that!”

“I am well aware, madam, that your people have not been accustomed to see in this light your claims that we should invite you to our communion. You are so accustomed to think of yourselves as baptized, that you cannot fully realize the fact that others should think differently. But thus the case must always appear to the mind of any well informed Baptist. Nor is this by any means the worst of it.

“It is always and everywhere considered an act of great discourtesy to ask one to do any thing which it is well known he will regard as a moral wrong, though it should be asked of him only as a private individual, and in his personal capacity. But the discourtesy is much greater when you ask him, as a public man, in his official capacity, and in direct and open opposition to his avowed and publicly acknowledged sentiments, to do what not only you know he would consider wrong, but what all the world knows, or might know, he would so regard; what he has again and again publicly declared that he could not do without a grievous disregard of his conscientious convictions of right. To ask, for instance, of a Son of Temperance, whom you know is pledged not to drink intoxicating liquors; whom you know feels that he is under peculiar and solemn obligations not to drink; yet to ask him not merely to disregard the obligation, which you know, and which the world knows, that he recognizes as binding upon his conscience; but to ask him to do it publicly and officially as a Son of Temperance, in the Division room, would be something such an act of discourtesy, though much less flagrant than it is to ask a Baptist, as a Baptist, in his public capacity as a church member, to disregard his obligations to his Saviour, by which the purity of the church and the sanctity of the ordinances are to be preserved.”

“Oh, dear, no! Please, Mr. Courtney, don’t think so hardly of us. I am sure none of our ministers or members ever intended any thing of the sort when they invited you to our communion, or complained that you did not invite us to yours. We never thought about its being a matter of conscience with you.”

“And why should you not have thought of it, when we have preached it in the pulpit, and proclaimed it through the press, and repeated it continually in private conversation? No one need be ignorant of the ground on which Baptists stand in regard to this question. Their sentiments have been long and plainly before the world. There is no one who has any occasion to complain of them, who does not know, or might not know, that they cannot dispense with what they conscientiously regard as Christian baptism; and that on this account, and not from any impoliteness or discourtesy, they are debarred from inter- communion with sprinkled Christians.

“But I have not done with this question of courtesy. I want our Pedobaptist friends to see precisely where they stand. After you have asked us to disregard the most sacred obligations, to repudiate our conscientious convictions of duty, and as a church, in our assembled and official capacity, to refuse obedience to what you well know we all regard as the imperative law of Christ, and to perform an act which you well know we earnestly believe he has forbidden; when we respectfully decline to do it, and kindly give you our reasons, you set up a great and senseless cry of bigotry, of selfishness, of ignorance, and (will you pardon me for saying it?) of christian discourtesy; as though it were more discourteous for us firmly to resist all your solicitations to disregard our Master’s Word, than it is for you, who profess like us to love him, to ask us to do it, or complain of us for not doing it.”