Theodosia Ernest. Volume II.: or, Ten Days’ Travel in Search of the Church.

Nashville, Tenn.: Baptist Publishing House. S. C. Rogers, 59 North Market St. 1866.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1866, by R. B. Davidson, In the District Court of the United States, for the Middle District of Tennessee.

Contents

First Day’s Travel.

The converted infidel—The authority of the Scriptures—The object of our investigation—Is the Church one, or many?—Has the Church any branches—Difficulties increasing—A mystery developed.

Second Day’s Travel.

The meaning of certain words and phrases used in Scripture to designate the institutions set up by Christ, such as the kingdom of God, etc., examined and settled—Mr. Percy’s call to the ministry.

Third Day’s Travel.

The difference between the Kingdom and the Church, and some other remarkable things concerning the Church brought to light—No Church universal.

Fourth Day’s Travel.

In which we come upon some marks by which to know a true Church of Christ, whenever and wherever we may find it.

Fifth Day’s Travel.

More marks of a true Church found—The tablet of marks completed.

Sixth Day’s Travel.

The Church of Rome tried by the marks or Scripture tests—Introduction of episcopacy—Episcopacy unscriptural—Rome apostate, and the consequences to Protestants.

Seventh Day’s Travel.

Digression on the introduction of Infant Baptism—The trial of the Church of England begun.

Eighth Day’s Travel.

The trial of the Church of England completed—The trial of the Methodist Episcopal Church begun.

Ninth Day’s Travel.

The trial of the Methodist Episcopal Church continued and concluded— Presbyterian, Lutheran, and Congregational Churches tried.

Tenth Day’s Travel.

In which the Church is found and identified.

Introduction.

Our blessed Saviour, when he was upon the earth knowing how very difficult it is to engage the attention and open the heart to the reception of religious truth, when presented abstractly, and in a didactic manner, was accustomed to connect his enunciation of the most important doctrines with a narrative suited to illustrate and enforce the teachings, while it gained the attention and secured the reception of his doctrine. We have every reason to believe that these narratives were most of them fictitious. The persons introduced did not actually exist, and the incidents related had not really occurred. He was pleased to invent the narrative, to suppose the events to have happened, in order that he might by them illustrate and enforce the great lessons which he came to teach. We do not imagine that there was really “A certain rich man who had two sons,” to whom it happened as he related in that most beautiful parable of the Prodigal Son. We do not suppose that he had in his mind any particular person whom he called the “Unjust judge, who feared not God nor regarded man,” and yet was moved by the poor widow’s “importunity” to do her justice. His hearers understood perfectly well that these were fictitious narratives, employed to gain attention to a real truth. Such fiction is no falsehood. It is not intended to deceive, and it does not deceive. Its object is accomplished when it has won the attention to the truth of which it is made the vehicle.

What the prophets often did, and what Jesus habitually did, has been done by good men in every age. They have invented narratives, sometimes brief, and designed to enforce and illustrate a single thought, and sometimes continued and connected, in order to convey a system of doctrine or a series of truths. Those are fables, or parables, poems or allegories, or simple stories, as may best suit the objects which the speaker or writer has in view. If Bunyan had merely told in plain, didactic language, the fears, the hindrances, the doubts, the sorrows, the hopes and labors and final triumphs of the Christian, he would have taught just what his Pilgrim’s Progress was designed to teach; but he would not have taught it so effectually, nor indeed so truthfully, as he has done by means of his inimitable work of fiction, in which the truth is not only told to the ear, but shown, as it were, to the eye of the mind, acting itself out in its natural and necessary results.

The numerous writers who have labored so sedulously and so successfully to make religious truth attractive and familiar to the minds of children and young people, and whose works constitute the bulk of our Sunday- school libraries, have not neglected to employ the narrative as the chief means of gaining attention and reaching the heart. And just so fax as such narratives are fitted and designed, not merely to interest the reader, not merely to excite his sympathy of arouse his feelings, but to convey important information, to teach some practical lesson in morals or religion, to illustrate or enforce some great religious truth, so far they have the sanction of the example of the best of men in other days, and even of the Lord himself.

And what if it be true that wicked men have made fiction the instrument of most terrific evil? What if they have used it to pander to the vilest passions of depraved humanity? What if they have employed it as the vehicle of false philosophy and false religion? What if they have prostituted it to minister to a morbid and mawkish sensibility? What if they have flooded the land with the filthy outpourings of the vilest and most loathsome stews of profligacy and impiety? What if the infidel has seized on it and wielded it as his most powerful weapon against Christianity? Shall we leave it to the exclusive possession of the enemies of God and man? True, they have degraded and polluted it, but it is still a weapon of tremendous power. We will wrest it from their grasp. We will sanctify, by consecrating it to God and souls. We will increase its energies by earnest prayer for Heaven’s blessing. And we will turn it against vice and infidelity. We will use it against error. We will make it the exponent and defender of the truth as it is in Jesus. Why should we not? Do we hesitate to make poetry the medium of truth, because the vicious and the dissolute have sometimes stolen her beautiful garments to cover up the most licentious conceptions of the veriest profligates that have ever been blessed with intellect? Do we cast aside our sacred songs because the lyre has been degraded, and made to sing what modesty would not dare to speak in simple prose? No such thing. If others deface her beauty, misconceive her purpose, and misapply her power, we will weep over the perversion of so glorious a gift, but we will not refuse to employ the mighty energies of poetry and song in the soul-elevating work for which they were intended. Nor will we, for a similar cause, abandon to the vicious the exclusive use of the fictitious narrative. We cannot conscientiously refuse to employ a weapon at once so effective and so necessary to the present condition of the reading world.

In the first volume of Theodosia Ernest, we have endeavored to make it the medium of instruction to a class of minds which would, we thought, be more easily reached by this than any other means in regard to certain subjects which we consider as of vast importance to the true interests of the religion of Jesus. We intended, when we began that work, to condense to a single volume such arguments and facts as should appear to us essential to the right understanding of the main points of difference between the Baptists and other denominations of Christian people. But we found that we could not do justice to the argument, and bring it all into the compass of a single volume. We were therefore obliged, contrary to our wishes and our first intentions, to continue the discussion into the present volume.

In the first, we confined our investigations to those topics which are embraced in what is commonly called the “baptismal controversy,” to wit, the act of baptism, the subjects of baptism, and communion. We did not say all we desired to say, nor all that we intend to say, upon these subjects; but we have been assured, by those whose opinions we value more than our own, that on each of these points the argument is satisfactory and unanswerable. If there is in the manner of presenting it any thing unkind or disrespectful to those who have conscientiously come to different conclusions from the author and his brethren, we sincerely regret it. We would not willingly grieve any lover of our Saviour, or cause the weakest of his little ones to stumble. If we are not self-deceived, we seek to know, and do, and teach the simple truth as we find it recorded in the Sacred Word; and to do this kindly and tenderly, but yet as one who feels that he must give account if he should “handle the Word of God deceitfully.”

In this volume we have presented the subject of Church polity. We are sure that Baptists themselves (we mean the masses, and not the educated few) have very much to learn in regard to the true nature and constitution of a scriptural Church of Jesus Christ. This has been less frequently than baptism the topic of pulpit instruction or newspaper discussion. What has been written upon it has, until recently, been mostly inaccessible to the common people; and much of it, we humbly conceive, has not been suited to give them entirely correct impressions even if they had seen it. We hail, however, with great pleasure, the recent appearance of several most valuable works upon this subject; and if we chance in some things to differ from the authors of these works, or others who have attempted to develop the true idea of the Church of Christ, we trust that our teachings will be tried, not by the common opinion of modern Christians, of ancient Christians, not by the theories or the practice of Pedobaptists, or of Baptists, but simply and solely by the Word of God. To this the author has endeavored to bring every position, and examine it carefully by its sacred light. To this he appeals. By this, and this alone, will he be judged.

Nashville, July 22d, 185

Ten Days’ Travel In Search of the Church.

First Day’s Travel.

The converted infidel—The authority of the Scriptures—The object of our investigation—Is the Church one or many?—Has the Church any branches?—Difficulties increasing—A mystery developed.

In the ladies’ cabin of one of those magnificent steamboats which ply upon the Mississippi, was a mixed company, consisting of persons brought together from various portions of our own and other lands. Some lounged lazily on the rich sofas; some walked uneasily up and down the room; some talked apart, in groups of two or three; some read the morning papers, which the obliging clerk had obtained at the last landing; others were intent upon the “latest novel,” or other trashy literature, which may always be procured about the wharf from which a boat is starting. Every thing readable had been seized upon by some one of the passengers, to while away the tedium of the monotonous voyage, with one exception. The large Bible, which some generous-hearted people had presented to the boat, lay unopened upon the centre-table. Seeing this, a gentleman who had been walking up and down in the dining-saloon, came in through the open door, sat down by the table, opened the book with an air of uncommon reverence, and silently read several chapters in succession.

There was something in the appearance and the manners of the man that attracted the special attention of a lady remarkable for the tasteful neatness of her plain apparel, and the extraordinary beauty and expressiveness of her face, who was sitting on the left of the table, engaged in conversation with a matronly personage, who, with quite a patronizing air, was expounding to the newly married pastor’s wife the mystery of making a certain variety of bread.

The Bible reader had, on sitting down, taken his pencil from his pocket, as though it had been his habit to lead with it in his hand; and once he had placed it on the margin of the page, seemingly with the design to make some mark, or note, when, recollecting that it was not his own Bible, he laid it aside. When he had done reading, however, he turned to the fly-leaf opposite the title-page, and wrote slowly and carefully these lines:

After which, he reverently closed the book, and returned to the other cabin. As soon as he was gone, the young lady reached the Bible, and, with true womanly curiosity, hastened to examine the writing. When she had read it, she found her husband, (a noble-looking man in the early prime of life, dressed, like herself, with great simplicity, yet with most perfect taste,) and brought him to look at it; remarking, as he was reading it, “That man is a Christian, my dear, and, it may be, a minister. We must become acquainted with him.”

“That is not unlikely. Show me which he is, and I will get the captain to introduce me to him.”

She pointed him out, and her husband went to seek the wished-for introduction.

“Captain, do you know that tall, dark gentleman yonder?”

“Certainly, sir. That is Dr. Thinkwell, formerly a practitioner of medicine, but now a wealthy planter. His summer residence is not many miles from Nashville. He will make the whole trip with us.”

“Will you have the kindness to make me acquainted with him?”

“Certainly; but you may not find his company so pleasant as you think; though, for that matter, he is a perfect gentleman. But you know you clergymen have your own opinions about some things; and the Doctor is said by some to have very different ones. In fact,” and the captain dropped his voice to a whisper, “he is said to be a Universalist, or an infidel, or something of that sort—I don’t know exactly what.”

“I am all the more anxious to know him, then.”

“Well, I only thought best to put you on your guard. He is coming this way: I will introduce you now.—Dr. Thinkwell, let me make you acquainted with the Rev. Mr. Percy, a young clergyman, who, with his lady, will travel with us as far as Nashville.”

“I am most happy to meet with you, Mr. Percy. There are but few of our present company who will make the whole trip, and I shall enjoy the voyage more for having some acquaintance in the ladies’ cabin.”

“Come with me, then, and let me introduce you to Mrs. Percy.”

They walked to the other apartment, and Mr. Percy introduced him to the lady as Dr. Thinkwell; and, to correct her conjecture that he might be a clergyman, added that he believed he was not a doctor of divinity, but of medicine.

“I had fancied, sir,” said she, “that you must be a minister of the gospel.”

“Why did you think so, Mrs. Percy?”

“From the reverent manner of your reading that book, and the lines you left upon the blank leaf at its beginning.”

“I have good reason, Madam, to love and reverence that book, although I am entirely unfit to become the expounder of its glorious truths. It is true I once despised it. I will not say I hated it: I scarcely thought it worthy of more than quiet contempt. Now I feel that it deserves far more grateful consideration at the hand of all men than it is accustomed to receive even from Christians. I cannot open it but with a sense of amazement at the goodness and the wisdom of the God who gave it.”

“Then you were once an infidel?”

“If by an infidel, Madam, you mean one who does not believe that the book called the Bible was a revelation from the Deity, I was an infidel. But I was also more.”

“Surely you were not an atheist! I have been accustomed to think that no person of ordinary intelligence and a sane mind could be an atheist.”

“If by an atheist you mean one who is fully satisfied that there is no God, I was not one. But if you mean one who very seriously doubts the being of a God; one who believes that there is not in nature, so far as known to us, sufficient and satisfactory proof to show that there is a God; then I was an atheist. He must be a bold man, indeed, who would undertake to say that there is certainly not a God; for although there might be no evidence of God within his sphere of observation; nothing within him, nothing around him, nothing in the earth beneath or in the sky above him to show that God exists, he could not determine that there might not be such evidence somewhere else. Unless he had ranged through all the immensity of the universe, and perfectly mastered all the facts which it presents, that one world where he had not been might be the very world where God might be distinctly known; that one fact which he did not know might be the very fact which, if known, would prove the existence of a God. If any man be mad enough to take such ground, you may well call him a fool. He has said in his heart not merely that there is not evidence enough to prove that God is—so leaving his existence in doubt—but plainly and positively that there is no God. Such a man is not properly an atheist, but an anti-theist—not only without God, but against God I was an atheist, but not an anti-theist.”

“Pray, Doctor, sit down and tell us, (that is, if you have no objection to speak of these things,) how it was that you were brought out of this darkness of unbelief into the light of faith.”

“When I was an unbeliever, I did not hesitate to express my doubts, and the reasons why I doubted. I took pleasure in encountering in argument those who were silly enough, as I then considered them, to believe such incredible things as the doctrines of the Christian religion; and why should I now hesitate to avow my faith in God and in his word, and, more than all; in Jesus Christ, my blessed Saviour? I will take pleasure, therefore, in relating to you the process of reasoning by which I have been led to the reception of the truth. But the story is a long one: the arguments are various, and may, to you, seem complicated, and will require our careful and undivided attention. This we can hardly give during our stay upon the boat; but I trust there will be some favorable opportunity before we part.^[1] Meantime, let me have some conversation with you upon another subject, in regard to which you are probably better informed than I am, and about which I am just now in a state of distressing uncertainty.

“It is not very long since I was led, in God’s great mercy to take Jesus Christ for my Saviour. In doing so, I took him for my Lord and King. I feel that to him alone I owe allegiance in all matters of religion; and, if I am not self-deceived. I sincerely desire and intend to know and do his will. I am aware that he requires of those who believe in him, that they shall make a public profession of their faith in him, and unite themselves with his visible people. This I should have done ere now, but for a single difficulty, which is not yet removed, and in the removal of which you possibly may aid me.”

“And what is that great difficulty?”

“Simply this: there are so many different organizations, each claiming to be the Church of Christ, that I do not know which to receive and unite with as his.”

“Permit me to suggest,” replied Mr. Percy, “that you have probably not made a careful examination of the subject in the light of the Scriptures alone; but have permitted the cross-lights of tradition and of prejudice, or at least of early impressions, to confuse your vision, and so divert your attention from the real object of your search; for, had this not been the case, I do not understand how you could find reason for even a moment’s hesitation.”

“Do you think, then, that the peculiar characteristics of The Visible Church of Christ are so plainly and definitely set forth in the Scriptures, that it is not easy to mistake on this point?”

“Surely they are, my dear sir; so that it is not only easy not to mistake, but, I had almost said, so that no man of common sense, who will be guided by Scripture alone, casting aside the influence of all human teachings, can possibly mistake. Why, sir, after the revelation of Christ himself, the great object of the New Testament Scriptures—the very purpose for which they were intended—is, to give the constitution, the laws, and the history of the kingdom which Christ came to establish upon the earth; and it would be strange, indeed, if they have given them in language so ambiguous that no one could understand it, or that any candid inquirer should have any sort of difficulty in knowing what this kingdom in its essential features is.”

“How, then, does it happen, sir, that there exists such a wide diversity of opinion among the good and pious? If the thing is so plainly set forth, why do not all see it, and see it all alike? How is it that we have Episcopalians, and Presbyterians, and Lutherans, and Congregationalists, and Methodists, and I can’t say how many others, all claiming, each for themselves, that they are the true Church of Christ?”

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” said a middle-aged man, who looked up suddenly from the newspaper which he had apparently been reading; “I do not conceive of these various Churches that each claims for itself that it is the Church, but only that it is a branch of the Church of Christ. I am a minister of the Methodist Connection, and I am sure that, while we claim for ourselves to be a part of the Church of Christ, we do not deny that Episcopalians, provided they are good and pious, and Presbyterians, and Lutherans, and Baptists, and, in fact, all evangelical Christians, are just as much branches of Christ’s Church as we are ourselves.”

“You would remove my difficulty, then,” replied the Doctor, “by showing that it is a matter of no consequence at all with which of these various organizations I shall unite, since all are equally Churches of Christ, and I would obey him equally whether I attach myself to one or to another. Do I understand you rightly?”

“O, of course I think my owe denomination more nearly right than any other, or I would not belong to it; and if I should give you any advice, I would say, sir, by all means unite with the Methodists. But still, we hold that every man should be fully persuaded in his own mind, and that every Christian, therefore, should belong to that connection where he can best enjoy himself.”

“Your suggestion, then, does not quite meet my case. I not seeking to secure my own enjoyment, but to obey Christ’s requirements. I am willing to deny myself to do his will I only ask to know which (if any) of these various organizations was that which he established, and into which, therefore, he requires me to be incorporated. They are certainly very different in doctrine, different in practice, and different in the character of their membership. They cannot all be right. They cannot be each the Church of Christ, unless Christ established several distinct Churches. They cannot be branches of his Church, unless he established a Church with several different branches. This is self-evident. But if he did, there is, of course, some record of it in this book;” (laying his hand reverently on the Bible;) “and if you will do me the kindness to point it out, I shall certainly avail myself of your suggestion, and unite with that body in which I think I will best enjoy my religion.”

Saying this, he pushed the Bible across the table, so that it lay directly before the stranger, who mechanically opened it, but without looking into it, as he replied, “You would not, of course, expect to find the Methodist, or Episcopal, or Lutheran, or Presbyterian Churches described by name in the Word of God, for none of them existed, or were known by name, in the days when the Scriptures were written; but we hold that it is all-sufficient, if the essential doctrines and practices of each or any of them can be established by Scripture proof. If the doctrine and practice of any of them, or all of them, are scriptural, then they are scriptural Churches.”

“But do you not see, my dear sir, that while they differ in doctrine and practice, they cannot be all scriptural, unless the Scriptures teach as many different and opposing systems of doctrine and practice as there are Churches. If any one of them is in accordance with Scripture, it follows, of necessity, that just so far as the others differ from it, they differ from the Scripture. There can be only one scriptural Church of Christ, unless Christ founded more than one, and gave them different laws. This, I am sure, needs no proof: it is self evident: And what I ask, and must require, before I can avail myself of your kind suggestion, that I may unite with any one of these organizations, and feel that I am obeying him, is, that you show me some shadow of proof, some faint intimation at least, that his Church was not one and undivided, but that he gave different constitutions, laws, and doctrines to different classes of people, or, at least, that he authorized the one Church to divide itself into what you call branches. So far as my investigations have gone, I find his kingdom spoken of as an undivided kingdom. His people are said to be one. There is one fold and one shepherd: there were to be no divisions among them. They were all to speak the same thing. We read, indeed, of different individual Churches, as the Church of the Corinthians, and of the Church of Ephesus, and the like—separate, and distinct, and independent organizations —but they were one in doctrine, one in practice. They all walked, or were required ‘to walk, by the same rule.’ They had all ‘one Lord, one Faith, and one Baptism.’ It is thus that I read; but if I read amiss, I will be thankful to him who will show me my error. You say, sir, that these modern sects are branches of the Church: if so, where or which is the main and parent stock planted by Christ and cultivated by the apostles, from which these branches grow? If that is still alive, I will be engrafted into it. If it dead, what keeps alive the branches? If the original stock is so cut up into branches that it cannot be found, show me some scriptural authority for the cutting up, and some command requiring me to add my name to any of them as I may think most proper. I read, indeed, of Christ as the vine, and of individual Christians as branches growing out of him, and living by his life; but nowhere of a parent stock of churches, with branches growing out of it. Can you point me to any such a passage?”

“Indeed, sir,” replied the preacher, “I do not deny and suppose that no one can deny, that there ought to be general unity among Christians, and that the divisions and dissensions which have separated the professed followers of Christ are greatly to be deplored; but, at the same time, sir, human nature is imperfect: men will not all see alike, and hence there always have been, and always will be, differences of opinion, and, consequently, of practice.”

“Very true, my dear sir, but this does not affect the point about which we are conversing in the slightest degree. The question which I ask is this: What or which is that organization which was established by Christ, and called his Church or kingdom? I feel that it is my duty to join myself to it. You reply that human nature is imperfect, and men will differ from each other, so that some think this and some think that is it. One says, here, in the Roman Catholic hierarchy; another says, there, in the Episcopal; another, in the Lutheran another, in the Presbyterian; and so on, through the catalogue. You have your private opinion that it is in the Methodist Connection, but assure me that any of them will do. Now, to me it seems evident that, although human nature is imperfect, God’s revelation cannot be. In that revelation (it is admitted by all) is revealed and described a visible organization, which was devised and established by Jesus Christ, and is called his Church. Whatever that may be, it is some one thing, and not a dozen different things; for a kingdom divided against itself, said Jesus, cannot stand. It is, what it is there represented to be, just that, and nothing else. It must be still in existence, because he foretold that it should never fail; that the gates of hell should not prevail against it. Now, my object is to find it; and, having found it, to become a part of it.”

“I do not conceive, sir,” said Mr. Percy, “that you will meet with any serious difficulty in making the discovery, when you once begin at the right place and look in the right direction.”

“I must have started wrong then, for, up to this time, I confess there is an impenetrable obscurity hangs over the whole subject.”

“Will you permit me to ask,” said Mrs. Percy, “of what denomination were your parents?”

“They belonged to the Church of England, madam.”

“Then you were sprinkled in your infancy.”

“So I have been told. And I remember that, when I was about twelve years old, the bishop put his hands upon my head, and said some words, which they informed me confirmed my baptism, and completed the process of making me a Christian.”

“Then,” said she, “you have some predilections for the organization which you were taught in childhood to regard as the only Church of Christ.”

“It may be so, madam; but I do not think you apprehend the exact nature and extent of the difficulties which embarrass and distress me. My mother was a good and pious Christian. In most things she was right; and I grant that I cannot help feeling a smothered conviction that she must have been right in whatever pertained to her religion. But, at the same time, I am quite ready, upon sufficient evidence, to admit that she was wrong. My parents did not make religion the special study of their lives. They received their religious opinions from others, in their childhood, as I did mine, so far as I had any, until recently; they never made them the object of any careful examination, but took it for granted that what ‘the Church’ believed must be the truth. So, if what is called the Church was wrong, they were wrong, of course. But here is the trouble: I have not made religion the study of my life any more than they did; my judgment, therefore, is worth no more than theirs. And when I turn to those who have given the labor of their lives to this very thing, I find that they have come to such various and contradictory conclusions, that I am ready to despair of the possibility of ever knowing certainly what is the truth.

“I fix my attention upon one man. I see that he has an intellect superior to my own; that he has piety which I never expect to equal; that he has stores of learning such as I never can obtain. He is honest; he is earnest; he is studious and prayerful. He has spent a long life in the almost exclusive study of this very subject, and he is a Presbyterian. I turn to another, and he is a Methodist; to another of the same class, and he is a Lutheran, a Congregationalist, a Baptist, or possibly, like Fénélon, a Catholic.

“Now, what am I to do? How can I decide who of them all is right? How venture in my ignorance to determine what all the wisdom of pious sages leaves open to dispute?”

“That is just what I said,” replied the Methodist. “The whole matter is involved in so much uncertainty, and each of the Churches can present so many good and valid reasons in its favor, that every one must consult his own inclinations, and join that which is most congenial to his feelings.”

“I cannot think so, sir,” resumed the Doctor; “for when, on the other hand, I turn my attention to God, instead of man—when I look into the Holy Word, I find a positive duty is imperatively enjoined. This duty—that of uniting with the Church of God by a public profession of faith in Christ— poses a previous decision of the question, who and what that Church is. And the Scriptures must, therefore, (if I only knew how to find it,) contain such a specific description of the nature and peculiar characteristics of that Church as to enable me to decide which it is for myself, and that without any danger of mistake. Still, I confess that I have not yet found any such description in the book, or, if I have, have not yet found the corresponding organization in this country.”

“If you will pardon me for saying so, Doctor,” replied Mr Percy, “I think I can easily convince you that your difficulties are much more fanciful than real; or rather that they are much more theoretical than practical. The simple truth is this: You have nothing to do with other men’s decisions. It is nothing at all to you or to me what this good man or that great man may think. Religion is a personal matter; its faith is personal faith; its duties are personal duties. It rests upon a personal recognition of the teachings of God’s Word. You are personally responsible to God for your own individual faith and practice. You must therefore examine for yourself, and not leave others to decide these questions for you.

“You may investigate the subject just as though no one else had ever thought of it. You should regard no other man’s decision as of authority to you. You do not hesitate to treat a case of fever, because Hippocrates and Galen, Boerhave or Sydenham, Cullen or Bronsais, chanced to disagree either in theory or practice?”

“No, sir. I examine for myself, decide for myself, and act upon my own decision. If I should wait for the doctors to agree, I should never make a prescription.”

“Just so let it be in regard to this matter. I discover that you are in earnest. You desire to know the truth. You recognize God’s Word as the only standard of truth. By that, and that alone, we are to try our faith and practice. You have truly stated that this word teaches that the visible kingdom of Christ is not many, but one; and it must be now just what it was in the apostles’ days: I have my own opinion upon this question, but I will not intrude it upon you as an argument. If you will consent, we will together, during our voyage, make a careful, thorough, and systematic examination of the Scriptures in regard to their teachings on this subject. And when we have finished, if you have any shadow of a doubt remaining, it will be more than I expect. My friend, Mr. Courtney, who will join us at our next landing, has given more attention to these subjects than I have, and will doubtless take pleasure in giving us his assistance, as will also, I trust, our Methodist friend.”

“Please then,” said Mrs. Percy, “postpone this matter till to-morrow, and, for our mutual advantage, make the investigation so thorough and extensive as to leave no room for doubt in any mind.”

“But, madam, you do not reflect that this would require all the leisure which we will have during the next two weeks.”

“Suppose it should: it will be time well spent. But we shall get on faster than you imagine. Mr. Courtney is a sort of walking-library upon these subjects, and Mr. Percy has had some personal experience in such investigations.”

“Very good,” replied the Doctor; “we will at least do what we can towards a complete examination of the whole subject, and should we not finish it during our voyage, you and Mr. Percy will, I trust, do me the favor to continue it at my house, after our arrival in Nashville; for you are then to be my guests. Nay! no excuses. I have claims upon you both, of which you are yet quite ignorant; and, in due time, I am very anxious to learn how and when you chanced to become Mrs. Percy; for when I saw you last, you were Miss Theodosia Ernest; and how and when Mr. Percy became a minister of the gospel; for when I last saw him, he was regarded only as a very promising young lawyer.”

“Then, sir, you are not the utter stranger that we supposed you to be!”

“So far from it, madam, I am, in one sense, indebted to you, under God, for the greatest blessing of my life.”

“Indeed, sir, this is all a mystery to me. I am not aware that I ever saw you before to-day.”

“That may well be; yet I have seen you very frequently. Some other time I will explain: I have now been shut up here so long, that I must take a turn on deck, and get some fresh air.”

Second Day’s Travel.

In which little more is done than to settle the exact meaning of the words and phrases used in the Scriptures to designate the new institution which was established by Christ, and which people commonly call his Church, but which the Scriptures call his kingdom.

If the reader has never seen the work to which this is the sequel,^[2] he will do well to lay this down until he can obtain and read Theodosia Ernest, for there is much in this which no one can fully understand without some acquaintance with the history which that book records. If he has seen and read that work, he will probably feel some faint desire at least to know in what way good Doctor Thinkwell had ever been associated with Theodosia, and by what means he knew any thing of herself or her husband; and will excuse the curiosity, which led to much conversation and many conjectures between herself and Mr. Percy, as to who this stranger could possibly be, and what could have been the nature of that favor for which he acknowledged his indebtedness to her. I do not say that it was owing entirely to this that she passed a sleepless night, for there was the heavy tread of passers to and fro upon the deck; the creaking of the tiller-ropes and rudder; the frequent ringing of the pilot’s bells, as signals to the engineers; the occasional tolling of the great bell, as a signal to other boats; the constant rattling and jarring of the ponderous machinery; and the splash of the mighty wheels by which they were driven along the surface of the stream: all these combined to hold her waking; and, being awake, she could not help awakening her husband every hour, to tell him of some new conceit concerning the mysterious Doctor; and I trust the reader will excuse her, if she left her state room more anxious to solve this riddle than to study the peculiar characteristics of a Christian Church.

Scarcely were the breakfast things removed, before she desired Mr. Percy to secure an opportunity to renew their conversation. He went out to look for the Doctor, and reported that he was smoking his cigar upon the upper deck. As the night had been sultry and the morning was calm, Mrs. Percy soon persuaded two or three ladies, with whom she had established a travelling acquaintance, that it would be delightful to enjoy the fresh air above. It was not long before Mr. Percy was walking the deck with two young ladies, and his wife was walking with Dr. Thinkwell, deeply engaged in earnest conversation.

“I must say, Dr. Thinkwell, it was too provoking in you to excite my curiosity as you did, and leave it all night unsatisfied. Mr. Percy and I could not sleep for anxiety to learn in what way you became acquainted with a portion of our history, and how it was possible that either of us could ever unconsciously have done you so great a kindness as you intimated yesterday Now please explain yourself.”

“With the greatest pleasure, Madam; but only on the condition that you repay my story by your own; for I suppose I am almost as curious to learn your history, from the time I saw you last, as you are to hear mine.”

“Let it be so understood, then. I am ready to promise almost any thing reasonable; only tell me how you came to know us, and what the favor was of which you spoke, and which you were pleased to call the greatest blessing of your life.”

“It was, in part, through your instrumentality, Madam, that I was recovered from the distractions of infidelity to the peace of faith. But not to keep you longer in suspense, I will tell you how it was. I have an estate in the country, a few miles from your native town, on which I was spending a few months during the summer that you were baptized. One Sabbath morning, as I was riding into town, I noticed a crowd gathering about the old school-house on the common, and, moved only by an idle curiosity, I went up and joined it. I soon discovered that it was a religious meeting, but knew that it must be something uncommon, and therefore dismounted and went in.

“It had been many years since I had been present at any religious services; and it was the first time I was ever present at a Baptist meeting. The whole scene interested me greatly, from its mere novelty. When the sermon was finished, and you presented yourself so calmly, and related your Christian experience, I will not distress you by saying how much I pitied your enthusiasm, and wondered at your folly. I was, however, greatly interested. I followed you to the river: I felt an involuntary shudder when you were plunged into the water: I gazed upon your face as you came out; and, strange as it may seem to you, I wept with those who wept that day. I was ashamed of it; I saw no reason for it; I chided myself, and called myself a fool for weeping; but I could not restrain my tears.

“I forgot the business for which I had come to town, and returned home sad and thoughtful. I began to ask myself, What if this be not all an illusion? what if religion be, after all, a stern reality? what if there be a God? what if the Bible should be true? what if there be a heaven and a hell? Was it not at least possible that I might be wrong, and the thousands whom I had pitied or despised as dupes, or as impostors, might be right? True, I had often looked over the argument, and found it all correct; but was it not possible that, at some point, my logic had been at fault? Could it do any harm to go over the ground once more? I determined to do so, carefully, step by step; but, in the meantime, I was uneasy; I was distressed; I could think of nothing else. Day after day, and night after night, I returned to the meetings, which you remember were held, first in the school-house, and afterwards in the courthouse. I witnessed all the professions of faith, and all the seventy baptisms; and, though not yet convinced that the Bible was more than a mass of fable and imposture, I spent many hours in its careful study.

“At length it became necessary for me to leave that part of the country. I had but few personal acquaintances, and to none of these did I mention my distress, which continued and increased until it had sensibly undermined my health. I felt that, one way or another, the question must be decided; and, slowly and painfully, step by step, my reason struggled back from the dark abyss of atheism, to a firm belief in a glorious, spiritual, intelligent, and efficient First Cause, which men call God; and then, more slowly and laboriously still, to the recognition of the Bible as a revelation from that God to me.

“I will not now even allude to the nature of that process of reasoning by which this work was done. Some time or other we will, should Providence permit, go over all that ground.^[3] What sleepless nights and days of anguish wore away, through the long and dreary months, while this re-investigation was in progress, I almost shudder to remember. And when this work was done—when had I found that there was a God, and that the Scriptures were his message to our race— there came a time of still greater darkness, and more oppressive agony of soul. Reason could show me that there was a God; but reason could not tell me what that God requires of him who has broken his laws, and rebelled against his government. This I felt that I had done. I was a sinner. The God of the Bible was a God I had not loved or honored. My very heart revolted against his right to rule me. Yet I tried to conform my life, and even my desires, to the requirements of his Word. The trial was a vain one: I offended every day, and every day was more and more oppressed with a sense of guilt. I needed pardon for the past, and I needed aid in the present. I cannot say that I had any considerable fear of punishment. I did not think of this; but I was a sinner, and needed deliverance. I prayed—O! how intense, how earnest, how agonizing was my prayer!—‘Lord, save me; I cannot save myself!’ Like David, I cried, ‘I am distressed: O Lord, undertake for me!’ and, little by little, the light of his love shone into my soul. I began to study more and more the character of Jesus as a Saviour. This removed the cloud from much of what had seemed mysterious in the sacred record. ‘He was exalted to be a Saviour:’ he was ‘Christ the Lord, a Saviour:’ ‘he came to save his people from their sins.’ He could save me: why should he not? ‘Whosoever will, let him come;’ and ‘come’ especially he says to the ‘weary and heavy laden.’ And, ‘he that cometh, I will in no wise cast out.’ I took him at his word: I asked him to save me; I believe he will—he has—he does; and I delight to meet with one who loves him as I do, and tell what great things he has done for my soul.

“Now you have my history, and I shall expect you to tell me yours, beginning from the time of your baptism; and so much of Mr. Percy’s (if he will not tell it himself) as will explain the mystery of his appearing as a clergyman rather than a lawyer.”

“I will keep my promise, Doctor; but you know that when a lady gets to talking, especially about herself, she never knows when to leave off. And my husband told Mr. Courtney that we would all assemble in the cabin about this time, to renew our investigation of the nature and characteristics of a Church of Christ; and, till I have learned why it is that you could not recognize the body of Christians into whose number you saw me baptized as one, I shall feel as though your history is not quite complete. So let us go down. I hope that Methodist minister will be there, for I am anxious for a full examination of the whole question.”

“You cannot be as much so as I am. And with the understanding that you will remember your promise at the first convenient time, we will now go below.”

On entering the cabin, they found Mr. Courtney already there, with the Bible open before him, in which he had placed a number of little slips of paper, with a pencil-mark on each, to designate some particular passage which he desired to refer to.

The party were soon seated in order around the table. Some of the other passengers drew near enough to hear, without seeming to take part in the discussion; while others, aware that it would be upon a subject connected with religion, quietly drew farther off, that they might not be annoyed with any thing so distasteful and unfashionable.

“You understand, I presume,” said the Doctor to Mr. Courtney, “that the object which we have in view is simply to ascertain which (if any) of those organizations which now claim to be Churches of Jesus Christ, is that which was established by him; and which is recognized in the Scriptures as his Church? Or, to be more specific and practical, is it the Roman Catholic, the Greek Church, the Episcopal, the Methodist, the Presbyterian, the Lutheran, the Congregationalist the Baptist, the Cumberland Presbyterian; or is it all of these or none of these?”

“Certainly, sir. Mr. Percy explained your object to me soon after I came on board yesterday evening; and I have been considering a little how we could reach it by the most direct and plainest route. It seems to me that it will be important, if not essential, for us first to determine definitely what we mean by The Church of Christ. Let us be sure we know what we are looking for, and then we shall be able to recognize it when we find it. I suppose we may take it for granted that the Lord Jesus Christ has, somewhere in this world, a visible organization of his people, called his Church. The very fact that we are looking for it, is evidence that we admit its existence. We need not, therefore, refer to the Scriptures to prove that they speak of it as a perpetual institution, which must continue till the end of time; that is, till Christ shall come again. If proof were needed, however, we have it in the act of institution of one of the ordinances of that organization, in which Christ says, ‘As often as ye do it, ye do show forth the Lord’s death until he come.’ And again, in the commission to establish and extend that organization among all nations, ‘Go ye, therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you; and I am with you always, even unto the end of the world.’”

“Of course, Mr. Courtney, no professed Christians doubt that such an organization as the Church of Christ exists, since they all claim that they are members of it.”

“Then we may take another step. It is essential to our purpose to know what the Scriptures say about this organization; and, for this end, we must know by what names they call it, otherwise we might not be able to tell when they are speaking of it.”

“That is well thought of,” said the Doctor, “and may save us a great deal of trouble. Much of the controversy which distracts the religions world, I am persuaded, has grown out of a loose and careless manner of employing words and phrases. Let us be sure to get started right, and then the whole journey will be easy, and pleasant, and safe; and we will be much more likely to arrive at right conclusions.”

“The Church of Christ is, in common language,” resumed Mr. Courtney, “continually confounded with the kingdom of Christ. Yet it is in fact, and according to Scripture usage a very different thing. It is not the kingdom, but an institution within the kingdom; just as our courts of law are not the State, but a requisite and essential part of the machinery of the State. Let us first get some definite idea of The Kingdom.

“One of the best expositions of this subject which I have seen, is given by Dr. George Campbell, a Scotch Presbyterian, and one of the most candid and erudite writers of the present age. He says, (page 132,) ‘The religious institution of which the Lord Jesus is the author, is distinguished in the New Testament by particular names and phrases, with the true import of which it is of very great consequence that we be acquainted, in order to form a distinct apprehension of it, and the nature of the whole.… The most common appellation given to this institution, or religious dispensation, in the New Testament, is “the kingdom of God,” or “the kingdom of heaven;” and the title given to the manifestation of this new state is most frequently “the gospel of the kingdom,” and, when considered under a somewhat different aspect, “the new covenant.”

“‘The Great Personage himself, to whose administration the whole is intrusted, is, in contradistinction from all others, denominated “The Christ.” … In the phrase, the kingdom of God, or of heaven, there is manifest allusion to the predictions in which this economy was revealed by the prophets in the Old Testament, particularly by the Prophet Daniel, who mentions it in one place as the kingdom which the God of heaven would set up, and which should never be destroyed; in another, as a kingdom to be given with glory and dominion over all people, nations, and languages, to one like unto the Son of Man.’

“This opinion of the Scotch divine is substantially the same as that given by Mr. Robinson in his Lexicon of the Greek Testament, where he says, ‘These phrases’ [the kingdom of God, the kingdom of heaven, and the kingdom of Christ] ‘are synonymous, and signify the Divine spiritual kingdom, the glorious reign of the Messias. The idea of this kingdom has its basis in the prophecies of the Old Testament where the coming of Messias and his triumphs are foretold.’

“It is certain the prophets had foretold Messias as a king: it is certain that Jesus claimed to be that King. ‘Thou sayest it’—I am a king. ‘For this end I came into the world.’ When John, who came to prepare a people, made ready for this new Sovereign, and preached, ‘Repent, for the reign of Heaven has come near,’ (this is a literal translation of Matthew iii. 2, rendered in our version, ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand,’) he doubtless referred to those prophecies, and the people must have so understood him. So when Jesus preached, Matthew iv. 17, saying the same thing; and so when the twelve apostles were sent out to proclaim every where in Israel the same notable words. All who heard then would understand them to mean that the Christ, the Messias of prophecy, had come and had set up, or was about to set up, his long-predicted kingdom.

“After John’s ministry had ceased, and he was confined in prison, Jesus proclaimed, (Mark i. 15,) ‘The time is fulfilled —the kingdom of God is at hand,’ or, literally, ‘the kingdom has come,’ for the Greek word (Engiken) is in the perfect and not the present tense. The time is fulfilled. What time? The answer is plain: that designated by the prophets. The time when the new kingdom should be set up, which should ultimately fill the earth; and which should be given to one like unto the Son of Man.

“The old dispensation, with its rites and ceremonies, and complicated types and deep-meaning symbols, was now superseded. The law and the prophets were until John, said the Saviour, but since that time the kingdom of God is proclaimed, and every man presseth into it. From the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of Heaven suffereth violence, and the violent take it by force. And to the proud, self-righteous Pharisees and skeptical Sadducees, he said, The publicans and harlot enter into the kingdom of God before you. This could not be if the kingdom had not already come.

“That the Jews were actually expecting this kingdom, is evident from the song of Zacharias; from the happy exclamation of good old Simeon; and from the confidence with which Anna, the aged prophetess, spake of the child Jesus to all those who looked for redemption in Jerusalem. Luke i. 67, ii. 25, 36. So also we read that Joseph of Arimathea, a good man and just, and one of the Sanhedrim; was of those who waited for the kingdom of God; and the two disciples that walked towards Emmaus, talking so sadly of his death, declared that they had trusted that it was he who should have redeemed Israel.

“May we not then consider thus much as settled: 1st. That the prophets, and especially Daniel, had foretold the setting up of the Christian institution as the kingdom of God. 2d. That the Jews were looking for and expecting it when Jesus came. And 3d. That John first, and Jesus afterwards, declared that the organization which Christ was about to establish, and did establish, was this kingdom?”

“I do not see why you need to have taken so much trouble to prove this,” replied the Doctor, “as I cannot suppose any one ever doubted it. It is no more than this, after all, to wit: that the kingdom of Christ was that organization which Christ established; and this was a self-evident proposition which needed no proof.”

“I trust, then, you will remember this; and if you find yourself or anybody else trying to show that something or other which was in existence before the time of John and Christ, or something that originated a thousand years after that time, is this Christian kingdom, you will rebuke them for their folly. We have here the first criterion of the Christian institution: that is, that it was organized and had its beginning in the time or about the time that Christ was on the earth. It was not in being before, for the prophets foretold that it should be established then. And John and Jesus said that then the time was fulfilled. Then it was preached. Then men pressed into it. Then its laws were made. Then its ordinances were established. Then the character of its members, the mode of Initiation, the method of discipline, and whatever else was needful to its organization and perpetuity, were ordained by the Great Personage to whom its administration was intrusted.

“If you will now turn to the prophecy in Daniel xi. 44, you will see that this kingdom, thus established, was to be a perpetual kingdom, and that it was at length to destroy all other kingdoms, and to fill the whole earth. Yet it was not to be set up, like other kingdoms, by the instrumentality of men. The stone that became a great mountain and filed the whole earth, was cut out without hands—it was God’s work. So Christ said, his kingdom was not of this world; his servants did not fight. It had no human sovereign—it owned no human laws. God set up the kingdom, and Christ, the ever- living, was to be its King for ever. For the prophet mentions, as two characteristics of this kingdom, that ‘it should never be destroyed,’ and ‘the dominion should not be left to other people.’ Christ, in his kingdom, reigns alone and reigns for ever. He will not give his honor to another, and if we find any kingdom called by his name, which he did not establish, and which is ruled by other Lords or other laws than his, we may be sure that it is falsely named; for, in Christ’s kingdom, Christ alone is king. You see, therefore, that we have already at least two signs or marks by which to recognize this Kingdom when we find it; namely: It begun with Christ and was established by him, and in it he is not only the supreme, but only Lord and King. Its subjects on members are such, and only such, as he has designated: its laws are such, and only such, as he has enacted. Its officers are such, and only such, as he appointed. Its ordinances are such, and only such, as he has instituted. And, unless the Scriptures are unintelligible on the very subject which, of all others, we would expect them to make plain, we can have no serious difficulty in finding out what the constitution of his kingdom was. Let us take the New Testament, therefore, and examine for ourselves.

“And first, let us examine such passages as designate the nature of this kingdom. Christ says, (John xviii. 36,) when Pilate was questioning him concerning the accusation which the Jews had made against him, ‘My kingdom is not of this world.’ It was in the world, but not of the world. He had no earthly throne. He wore no jewelled crown. He held no regal sceptre. He claimed no worldly power. No marshalled armies fought at his command; nor was he in any respect a worldly king. And yet he was a king; for this end he was born, and for this very object he came into the world. And not to leave the governor entirely in the dark, he adds, the subjects of his kingdom are those that believe and obey the truth. ‘Every one that is of the truth heareth my voice.’

“Again, he said to the Pharisees, (Luke xvii. 20,) when they demanded to know of him when the kingdom of God would come, ‘The kingdom of God cometh not with observation.’ There is nothing about it to excite the attention and admiration of the uninitiated beholder. No one will exclaim, look there, or see here. But the kingdom of God is within you. It is an interior soul kingdom; and its reign is not one of outward pomp and power, but one of inward love and heart-yielding obedience. There was about it nothing to attract the gaze of the wondering word; but yet it was, a visible kingdom. Jesus said there were some standing there who should not die till they had seen it come with power. And this they did upon the day of Pentecost, and during the few days which followed, when over eight thousand were added to its ranks.

“The subjects of this kingdom were visible subjects, men and women who could repent, believe and be baptized.

“The ordinances of the kingdom were visible ordinances, symbolizing to the eye as well as the heart the believers death to sin, and the Saviour’s death for him.

“The laws of the kingdom were visible laws, recorded, under the direction of the Holy Spirit, for the instruction and control of its subjects.

“The Executive of the kingdom, to which was intrusted the enforcement of those laws, was a visible organization, with a fixed and settled constitution, having the extent of its powers, and the manner and occasions of their exercise, clearly pointed out and carefully defined.”

“O yes, Mr. Courtney!” exclaimed the Doctor, rather impatiently; “I grant all that. I suppose no one has ever denied that this kingdom was set up by Christ, and that it is a visible kingdom. But what I want to know is this: Who were the subjects of it? of what sort of people did it consist? and how did they become incorporated into it?”

“Your question is a double one, and must have a double answer. What sort of people were admitted to membership in this kingdom? Ask John. He came to prepare the people made ready for the organization of the kingdom. He rejected the self- righteous Pharisees and unbelieving Sadducees, and all who claimed admittance for their parentage; and received only the personally penitent, who believed on him who should come after him. Ask Jesus. He says, ‘Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of God.’ So it seems they are the lowly-winded and humble-hearted. ‘Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of God.’ So they are such as are ready to suffer for the cause of Christ. Moreover, they must be obedient to Christ, for he says, ‘Whosoever shall break one of the least of these commandments, and shall teach men so, shall be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but whosoever shall do and teach them, shall be called great in the kingdom of heaven.’ But this obedience must not be one of mere form. It must not be a mere observance of rites, and ordinances, and ceremonies; for he says, ‘Except your righteousness exceed that of the Scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into the kingdom of God.’

“And these requisitions of humility and obedience are further insisted on in several other passages besides those parallel with these.

“When the disciples asked him who should be the greatest in the kingdom, he took a little child and set before them, and assured them that except one were converted, and made like such a child, he could not enter the kingdom at all, and that he in it who humbled himself the most, should be the greatest. So also he taught that mere profession was no passport to admittance, but only actual obedience. ‘Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven, but he that doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven.’

“External morality should afford no claim, for he assured the Pharisees and Sadducees that the publicans and harlots, who repented at the preaching of John, were going into the kingdom of God before them, and that they not only would not go in themselves, but hindered others from entering.

“A faint resolution and temporary reformation were not sufficient qualifications; for he says, ‘No man, having put his hand to the plough, and looking Lack, is fit for the kingdom of God.’

“The subjects of this kingdom, we learn from Matt. vi. 33, are willing or voluntary subjects. They come into it, not by compulsion—not by the act of their parents, or guardians, or sponsors, but of their own accord, and they are not only willing, but desirous to enter it. ‘Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness.’ This language could only be addressed to voluntary agents. And Matthew (ix. 12) seems to convey the idea that they were not only desirous, but exceedingly anxious to enter. ‘The kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, and the violent (that is, the earnest, energetic) take it by force.’ It is not enough to seek to enter in, but they must strive, must struggle, must agonize to enter in; ‘for many shall seek to enter in, and shall not be able.’

“But the decisive and all-including passage is John iii. 3, 5, in which the King is explaining to Nicodemus the nature of membership in his kingdom. ‘Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God. Except a man be born of water, and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God.’

“These are the principal, if not the only passages, in which the qualifications for membership in the kingdom are expressly described in connection with the phrases, ‘kingdom of God,’ or ‘kingdom of heaven.’ And this much, at least, is certain: none are, or can be, real members of this dominion, except they have been converted, have become humble, penitent, believing, and obedient to Christ, and have sought for citizenship with earnest, heartfelt desire. Christ’s kingdom is not one of mere outward forms. He reigns in the hearts of his people. His subjects obey him because they love him, and no individual who does not sincerely and heartily love him; who does not humbly, and yet confidently trust in him; and who does not truly, and resolutely, and perseveringly endeavor all things to obey him, is a fit subject for his kingdom. He must, in his heart, recognize Christ as his Lord and King, and seek to do his will, before Christ can own him for a subject, and treat him as a son.”

“I think that I now begin to understand you,” said the Doctor. “You regard all those who love Christ as equally the subjects of this visible kingdom.”

“Not at all, sir. You mistake me altogether. I have been trying to answer your first question, which related to the kind of people who compose the kingdom. I have not yet approached the second, which asked how they became incorporated into it. The penitent, the believing, the humble, the loving, and obedient, are fit subjects, and the only fit subjects for the kingdom. They are members of Christ’s invisible kingdom. Christ reigns in their hearts: Christ rules in their lives. They are his by redemption, and will reign with him in glory. But something more is needful, to make them members of his visible kingdom, which is that for which we now are looking. They are such as he has recognized as having a right to membership, but they are not yet members of it. Abel and Abraham, David and Daniel, Job and Joshua, and all the mighty host of the ancient saints, possessed this character. They were the children of God. They trusted him and loved him. They were the obedient upon the earth, and now rejoice with him in heaven. But they were not the subjects of that kingdom which Jesus Christ set up in the days of Pontius Pilate, for it was not yet in being. It had not been established. They foresaw it: they foretold it: they rejoiced that it was coming, but they could not be members of it till it came. If they had lived in the days of its existence, they would have possessed all the qualifications for membership, and would, doubtless, have become members. But something more than their piety of heart would have been needful to make them members.

“Christ, as King, has appointed a visible door of entrance into his visible kingdom. Those who would be subjects of it must first ‘be made such in their hearts;’ and then, when they have been thus ‘duly and truly prepared,’ they may be and must be initiated by the ceremony which he has appointed. They have ceased to love the world in their hearts, and now they must openly come out from the world, and acknowledge subjection to him in that form and manner which he has prescribed. Until they have done this, they may be his subjects in fact, but they are not his in proper from. They may be his in heart, but they do not belong to his organized and visible kingdom.”

“I think,” said Mrs. Percy, “I can illustrate what you mean:

“A king has set up his throne in the midst of a rebellious population, who have refused to obey him, and say, in heart and practice both, ‘We will not have this man to reign over us.’

“He surrounds himself with a few faithful subjects. He gives them a code of laws; and, among others, presents a certain form which shall be used in the case of every rebel who shall change his mind and join their ranks.

“This code of laws is made public both in the kingdom and out of it; so that all of both parties may know what is required of him who comes into the ranks of the faithful.

“Now, when any of the rebels has grown weary of rebellion, and laid down his arms, and has determined in his heart to serve the King, he may be called a subject. He is no longer a rebel. He has in heart become obedient to the King. He recognizes his authority. He intends and tries to do his will; but he is not legally and visibly a subject till he has gone through the form of reception prescribed by the King. And if he were in fact obedient, and knew of the requirement, he would of himself seek at once for such a regular and legal admission; he would not continue to live among the rebels and be counted of their number. This was the first act of obedience: the test appointed by the King to try if he were in fact obedient. And so long as he neglected or refused to obey in this particular, so long he would not be counted among the faithful.”

“But what,” said Mr. Percy, “if some who professed to be the officers of the kingdom and expounders of the law, should assure him that some other test was that which was required; or that no test at all was needful in his case?”

“Then I would say that these wicked men falsely and wrongfully hindered him from entering in, and that if all the circumstances were known to the King, he would love him, and reward his good intentions as though they had been carried into effect. But yet he could not, without repudiating his own law, and abrogating the form of admission which he had himself enacted, consider him as an actual member of his kingdom.”

“I thank you, Mrs. Percy,” exclaimed the Doctor. “Your beautiful comparison has made the whole matter perfectly plain. Christ is the King. He set up his kingdom in the midst of rebels. He sends his messengers to tell them of his goodness, and strive to win their hearts; for his reign is one of love. When any one is convinced of wrong, and converted to the right, he is a fit subject for His kingdom; but he is yet only prospectively and not actually in his kingdom. To enter it in person, as he has in heart, bodily and visibly, as he has in spirit and in purpose, he must take the oath of allegiance, by submitting to baptism, the initiatory rite proscribed by the King. Till this is done, he may be a friend to the King, but he lives among his enemies. He may be subject to the King in feeling, but he has not put on his livery and joined his ranks. And fearful must be the responsibility of those who venture, in the face of Christ’s express command, to assure him that if the heart is right, the King requires no more; or to mislead him into the belief that he requires something else, instead of that which he commanded. But when one expounder of the law says one thing, and another something else, how is the new-born subject to know what to do?”

“He must examine the law for himself, sir,” replied Mr Courtney; “and he will not find it double-tongued. The King made his commandment very plain, and none misunderstood it until the wicked had perverted it. But let us not wander from the point before us. You see that if we will embrace all the fit subjects for the kingdom, all the humble, penitent, believing, and obedient, we must have an invisible kingdom, the limits of which are only known to Him who searches all hearts and knows all thoughts.

“I am very willing to recognize such a kingdom. It includes hundreds and thousands of most excellent and heavenly-minded children of God, who are not in the visible kingdom: some who, though converted, have never yet publicly professed their faith in any form. They may have had no opportunity; they may not have felt sufficient confidence in their love for the King; or, like yourself, Doctor, they may be yet in doubt about what the real visible kingdom is, and where it may be found, and how it must be entered. It includes thousands who have been imposed upon by their spiritual guides, and taught to believe that they are already in Christ’s kingdom, while they are in some other organization, as unlike it as possible, in every thing but name. They are good and pious children of God. They love the Saviour, and Christ reigns in their hearts on the earth, and they will reign with Christ in heaven. They are his, and he knows them to be his: they are in his invisible spiritual kingdom, but they are not in his visible kingdom; nor can they be until they have entered it by that visible and significant ordinance which the King appointed for this purpose. To illustrate what I mean, what writer has ever exhibited a deeper and more spiritual knowledge of the work of grace in the believer’s heart than Thomas à Kempis? What minister of Christ has ever shown more evidence of love to Christ, and love to souls, than Fénélon? What woman has ever done and suffered more for the cause of the Redeemer than did Madame Guyon? Yet none of these were in the visible kingdom of Christ, unless the Church of Rome is the kingdom of Christ, and not of Antichrist. And as there are many in the invisible kingdom who are not in the visible, so there are many in the visible who have no right there, and never will be recognized by the King. The rite of initiation confers no moral qualities; and without penitence and faith preceding, it is of no avail. Simon the sorcerer was baptized and regularly initiated into Christ’s visible kingdom, but he had neither part nor lot in the matter. He was as deeply steeped in the gall of bitterness, and as strongly bound with the chains of iniquity, after his baptism as he was before; while the poor thief who died upon the cross was not baptized and never initiated, and yet he entered the Paradise of God in company with his Redeemer.

“It was, sir,” addressing the Methodist, “precisely this error (confounding the visible with the invisible kingdom) that first led to the introduction of infant baptism. The Saviour said, ‘Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven;’ meaning thereby (if he referred to water baptism) his visible kingdom on the earth, that about which we have been talking; but men understood it of the invisible kingdom, or kingdom of glory in heaven, and so determined that as baptism was the only door of entrance into heaven, it should be denied to none, not even to new-born babes.”

“Pardon me, Mr. Courtney,” said the Doctor, “but we are wandering from our subject. We were examining the nature of the visible kingdom of Christ as it was established by him when he was here, and is destined to continue till he shall come again. We have ascertained that it was to consist of humble- minded penitents, who were obedient to the laws of Christ, and trusted in him for their salvation; and that when thus qualified for it, they were to be introduced into it by the rite of baptism. And although some of different character might be initiated, they were but enemies and rebels still, though bearing the name of friends and subjects; and though some having this character had been prevented from initiation, so could not be counted as actual members, yet they were not thereby divested of their title to those spiritual and eternal blessings which are promised to those possessing the character of subjects. I think we may now conclude that we understand the nature of this kingdom in its relation to individuals. Considered as purely spiritual, or as the invisible kingdom, it includes all who in their hearts have taken Christ to be their King, and in their lives are yielding him (so far they know his requirements) a prompt and sincere obedience. Considered as his visible kingdom, as an organized institution, it includes those of this character who have come out from the world and separated themselves to him by an open profession of their allegiance, and have been regularly initiated by the rite of baptism, as the King ordained.

“But now I am as far as ever from the object which I had in view when I entered on this investigation. I want to know where and which this kingdom is, and how I can be incorporated into it. I trust I am a member of what we have called the invisible kingdom. I am a subject of the King at heart. He has in his mercy given me a desire to obey him; and he requires me to profess him before men, and visibly unite with his people. Can you tell me where they are, and how I am to get among them? There are at least a dozen different organizations, each claiming to consist of genuine believers, who have been baptized. I know them, for the most part, to be good and pious people, and am not yet entirely convinced that their sprinkling is not valid baptism. So far as we have yet advanced, therefore, they all have equal claims upon me; yet I know they cannot all be right, or else they would all agree. Christ’s kingdom cannot be divided against itself, for Christ himself declared that if it were so it must fall. ‘A house divided against itself is brought to desolation; and a kingdom divided against itself cannot stand.’ I know, therefore, that all these separate and rival organizations, with their various forms of government, opposite systems of faith, and clashing interests, cannot be his kingdom; but you have yet shown me no sign by which to distinguish which of them all is really his.”

“Have a little patience, Doctor. We have not yet finished our survey of the kingdom. We have ascertained, indeed, that it consists of professed believers who have been baptized; and this clue, if you would follow it out, would lead you to the truth. But we will not abandon our main subject yet in order to follow it. It remains now to consider the kingdom in regard to its organization. You have ascertained its membership: now let us look at its government, or polity. This kingdom not only has members, or citizens, but it has a King, and a code of laws, and an executive body by which, in the King’s name and by his authority, they are administered. To this executive body, and to it alone, the King intrusts the visible administration of his government. Now if we find any organization claiming to be this kingdom, or a part of this kingdom, the members of which have not been baptized, you must set them aside on the ground already settled, viz. Christ’s visible kingdom consists not of believers merely but of baptized believers; and if we find any organization which has rejected Christ from being King (not formally, but actually) by acknowledging subjection to another ruler, or to other laws than his, we may at once reject its claims upon this ground. It cannot be the kingdom of Christ unless it is ruled by his laws, administered by his executive, and enforced by his authority.”

“That is self-evident, sir. But where and what is this executive of which you speak?”

“It is that organization called in the New Testament ‘the Church.’”

“I had thought, sir, that the Church and the kingdom were the same thing—merely different names for the same object.”

“Not at all, sir. The Church is a local organization, charged by the King with the execution of his laws. It is in the kingdom: it makes a part of the kingdom: it is subject to the laws of the kingdom; but it is not the kingdom, any more than the courts of law and the executive of any state are themselves the state.”

“My dear sir, you astonish me. Is not the term Church in the Scriptures continually and almost invariably used as synonymous with the kingdom? Does it not comprise all the visible body of professing Christians? I am sure such is the general impression. How else should we read of the Church universal, of the ancient Church, of the Church militant, and the Church triumphant?”

“You do not read thus in the Scriptures, sir. The Holy Catholic, or universal Church, is a figment of men. The Scriptures commonly employ the word to signify only a local assembly of Christian people, who meet together in one place to observe Christ’s ordinances, and to transact the business relating to his kingdom. In the few places where it has a more extended meaning, it is used metaphorically, by virtue of that very common and natural figure of speech in which the name of a part is applied to the whole. It is never used in Scripture to designate such an ecclesiastical establishment as that which you call the Church of England, the Church of Rome, the Presbyterian Church, the Methodist Church, and the like. But the elaboration of this point will require no little time, and I fear some of our company may even now be weary of this dry discussion. We have seen what Christ’s kingdom is, and let that suffice us for to-day. To-morrow we will try to get some definite conception of the nature of his Church.”

“I am content,” replied the Doctor; “for, to own the truth, these things are so new to me that I feel I need time to review the ground we have gone over, and make myself sure that we have not travelled out of the record. Let me take my Bible, and examine again all these passages which speak of this kingdom; and when we meet here in the morning, I may be ready to take the other step in this investigation. And Mr. Percy, with your consent I shall invite your good lady to take a walk with me on deck, and fulfil a promise which she made yesterday.”

“I surely will not object, sir, provided I can make an arrangement for myself as agreeable as that of yesterday.”

The company disappeared from the ladies’ cabin, and were soon talking of other matters.

The Doctor claimed of Theodosia that she should, according to her promise, relate her own and Mr. Percy’s history from the time of her baptism. She told him much, but she did not tell him all; and we feel that it is due to the reader of these pages that he should be made particularly acquainted with some facts to which she scarcely alluded; and moreover, there were some things which she told which are already known to him who has perused the first volume of this work. We think it best, therefore, to resume the narrative where we left off; and go on to tell it in our own way.

The reader will remember that Mr. Percy had been converted to Christ on his way home—had gone into the meeting at the Court-house, related his experience of grace, and been received as one proper to be baptized. Before he had been baptized, however, he was stricken down suddenly by the hand of disease. Long time the balance wavered between death and life. By his avowal of his faith, and application for baptism, Theodosia felt that the only barrier to their contemplated union had been removed—he was her own betrothed again. She longed to tell him how her heart had poured its very life out in that sad and almost fatal letter which she felt had caused his sickness.

Called to his bedside by his mother and his physician, (as we have seen in the other volume,) she became to him not only the angel of his dreams, but the ministering angel of his waking hours. When he was strong enough to talk, he told her how bitterly his heart had wept at the remembrance of his vain attempt to persuade her to deny her Lord for him— to refuse obedience to Christ’s plain and imperative command, in order that she might not grieve or offend him whom she loved more than all else but Christ. He told her how he had wished to recall that rashly-written letter; how he had hoped it would have no effect upon her conduct; how happy he was to find that she had done her duty, without regarding it; how much more firmly he could trust her now—how much more tenderly he loved her now—since he had realized that nothing could turn her from the path of right.

And did she tell him how that letter of his had rent and crushed her heart? Did she tell him how it had for the time almost dethroned her reason? Did she tell him with what agony she slowly and mournfully came to her decision to give up all—to give up even him—for Christ?

She only told him how she had reproached herself for writing an answer which had caused him so much suffering.

“What!” exclaimed he, “did you send an answer to my letter? I never saw it—I did not know that you had written one!”

This suggested a new thought. She knew from the doctor that he had seen it. She knew that it had driven him to the very door of death. The doctor had taken it from the hand that grasped it, even as he lay senseless upon his office-floor. She had it now in her possession. But Mr. Percy had no remembrance of it: the hand that struck him was so heavy that it stunned the brain; and he had never realized from what source the blow had come. She turned the conversation to another theme.

“You are rapidly getting your strength again. The doctor says that you are now out of danger. I must leave you, and return home.”

“Not to-day, I hope.”

“No; but if you continue to improve, I must to-morrow. There is no longer any necessity for my presence.”

“I see how it is,” he replied. “You came when they told you I was like to die; and now your delicacy suggests that you ought not to stay. Well! be it so; but let me tell you, dearest, that your coming saved my life. My mind, I know, has sometimes wandered; and I am conscious now of a strange fancy—I know not whence it came—that you had utterly disowned and cast me off. This fancy preyed upon my heart, and gnawed away my life. Sometimes, in my dreams—it may have been in my delirium—I saw your image hovering about the room, looking so tenderly and pitifully into my eyes that I began to doubt if it were not my Theodosia; and when I found that you were really here—that it was your kind hand that prepared my food—your hand that gave me drink—your voice that answered my feeblest call, and your presence that calmed my distracted mind, I at once grew strong—I had something to live for; and now I feel that I shall live to make you at least some return of love for all your care.”

“There, hush now, Mr. Percy; you are talking too long, and will bring back your fever. Try to compose yourself to sleep. Your mother will stay with you till I return;” and she stole away to pour out her heart in thanksgiving to that Redeemer who was giving back to her, one after another, all the treasures which she had given up, in her purpose that she might keep his commandment.

She returned to her mother’s; and it was not many days before the conversation was renewed in the little parlor of Mrs. Ernest’s cottage.

Several weeks had passed. Mr. Percy was well and strong again: he had returned to his office, and was earnestly engaged in closing up his business. He had determined to abandon his profession, and engage in the work to which he felt the Lord had called him; but of this he had as yet said nothing, except to his friend and confidant, Dr. Woodruff.

“What,” asked the Doctor, “will Theodosia say to this? You may abandon your business, in which you could soon realize a fortune, and devote yourself to a life of hardship and poverty; but have you a right to entail poverty upon her? Are you willing to see her lead the life of a poor pensioner on the reluctant alms of Baptist churches?”

“O no, my friend, nothing of that sort will be necessary The ministers of Christ are worthy of their hire. They earn their support. It is not alms, but wages they receive.”

“Yes, yes, you may well say they earn it. They earn vastly more than they get; but though they earn it, those who receive the benefit of their labors usually understand that they are under no obligation to pay for them; and that the preacher should be very thankful if they condescend to give him the means of a hare subsistence. Look at the facts, Mr. Percy. Here are some twenty Baptist churches in this county: is there any one of them that gives its pastor even a bare support? I know these people better than you do. They will pay their doctors, and pay their lawyers, and pay their mechanics and their merchants; but they seem to me to have deliberately made a calculation to ascertain just how little a preacher can barely subsist upon, and that little they promise to pay him, but feel that it is only a gift—a mere matter of alms—which he cannot legally collect; and therefore they forget it and neglect it, until he becomes disheartened, and removes to another church, to be deluded again by similar promises. Some of the members are always glad when this occurs; for from that moment they feel released from all obligation ever to pay what they had promised him.”

“Surely,” said Mr. Percy, “this must be an exaggeration. No Christian people could so disregard not merely the demands of common honesty, but also the express injunction of the Saviour, that ‘They who preach the gospel shall live of the gospel.’”

“I think so too,” replied his friend; “and for this very reason am disposed greatly to doubt whether these Baptists are Christian people. As you have not joined them yet, I hope you won’t get angry at my saying so.”

“If I had joined them, I should be very silly to be angry at the truth; but I can’t believe that this is truth.”