MOST organised religions have to do with Conversion--that is, they include within themselves some phenomena which can be covered by this name. The Old Testament contains examples of conversion, though it never reaches a highly-developed form under Judaism. This has led many--who have assumed a too close connection between Christianity and Judaism--to undervalue the place of conversion in Christianity. But a real study of comparative religion will lead us to see that what was scarcely articulate in some faiths, and found an inadequate expression in others, reaches its highest form in Christianity. This is true not only of conversion, but of almost every phase of our religion; and, indeed, if we accept Christianity as the final expression of religion, we can take no other view. We must expect it to show something more than a slavish copying of other faiths--even Judaism. Thus in Christianity conversion reaches its highest development, and becomes an essential in a religion which is bound up with the inward attitude of man.

      There are two sides to all Christian experience--regeneration and sanctification. The New [203] Testament is full of these two ideas. In both alike conversion--if we mean by it a turning again--plays a necessary part. Most forms of Catholic Christianity have emphasised conversion as constantly necessary throughout the process of sanctification, but have loosened altogether the connection between conversion and regeneration. On the other hand, the Protestant Reformation emphasised the absolute need for conversion at the commencement of the Christian life. The Methodist movement further emphasised the need for conversion at the beginning of every individual Christian life. It is true that large sections of Protestantism have to some extent lost the sense of the need for conversion, and the word even in Protestant circles has come to have a rather bad flavour. Of course, viewed from the psychological standpoint, conversion may be gradual or sudden: it may be the result of a long process of education, or it may be catastrophic. In most cases it is very difficult to tell how long the process has lasted and what the influences at work have been. From an observation of these facts Professor James was inclined to deny that there was any conversion in the case of those in whom the process was gradual; for instance, children born and reared under Christian influences; and he was apt to talk of "the religion of the healthy-minded and the religion of the sick soul."¹ This is really the same thing as "the religion of the once-born and the religion of the twice-born," a phrase which has become current in modern religious circles. The distinction is certainly fraught with danger and modern psychology is [204] inclined to discard it, and to deny the possibility of religion by education. The religion of the healthy-minded breaks down in the face of sin and evil; and in days when sin is no longer equated with the breaking of negative commands, or merely with vileness and filth; but is regarded as the using of powers for a lower rather than a higher purpose--in fact, is in some measure to be equated with selfishness; it is no longer possible to regard those who have been trained under Christian influences in a category apart by themselves and separate from sin. If we take the old-fashioned low view of sin, there is an air of reality in preaching to criminals in gaol and emphasising the fact that all have sinned; but there is an air of unreality when we enter the domain of the respectable, and attempt to convey the same message. This is something artificial which has grown up with us, and is entirely due to a false view of sin which has long dominated theology, but from which it is now fast freeing itself. On any real and adequate view of sin it is quite possible to recognise that the man in gaol may be no worse a sinner than the most respectable member of a congregation; and psychology is more and more inclined to the truth that "all have sinned and come short of the glory of God,"² and to claim that in the lives of the so-called "once-born" there does, after all, come a crisis. With children trained in Christian influences this crisis is undoubtedly to be looked for in the earlier stages of adolescence. From a religious point of view there seems to be scant hope for those who experience no such crisis, with [205] its deep overwhelming sense of sin, ever attaining to any religious experience other than that of the Pharisee who said, "God, I thank Thee that I am not as other men." It was a devout attitude; but it was undoubtedly a soul-destroying, rather than a soul-satisfying one.

      Moreover, throughout our whole Christian experience there is the same need for conversion--that is, the need for the same attitude towards sin. This is a truth which Protestantism has largely lost sight of. With its strong emphasis upon salvation as a single process--something to be summed up in an event--in some expressions of itself it has almost become non-ethical. It has given scant attention to such a truth as "work out your own salvation with fear and trembling."³ It has been inclined from the first--since Luther's verdict on the Epistle of James--to find a real conflict between Petrine and Pauline Christianity, and in its most extreme form it has posited a doctrine of "once in grace, always in grace." Catholic expressions of Christianity have laid greater stress on the need for conversion during the whole process of sanctification. The constant need for confession so emphasised in the Johannine writings has always been a keynote; though in its workings out in systems of penance it has too often developed into sheer legalism. What is needed to-day is an awakening to a sense of sin. First of all, Catholic Christianity needs to gain, and [206] Protestant Christianity to regain, a sense of the real moral and spiritual change, or even upheaval, which must take place in the acceptance of Christianity--a change which we call conversion. Secondly, Protestant Christianity, more than Catholic, needs to gain, and is gaining, a sense of the true distinction which exists between those within the Christian salvation and those without. The old distinction of saints and sinners is no longer possible, nor does it reflect the spirit of the New Testament. It would be more true to draw a distinction between sinners and sinning saints. It should be impossible for the Christian ever to take up the attitude of superiority once so common--an attitude identical with that of the Pharisee. He cannot with the New Testament conception of Christianity before him, and with his own experience if he be true to himself and not sentimental, accept the dogma of perfect holiness. Every day he will realise more fully the truth expressed by John, "If we say we have no sin, we lie, and the truth is not in us."⁴ In fact, sanctification is a process, and not a single event; it is a growth, a development, an activity in which there is constant need for repentance and confession--in fact, for conversion. For this reason the greatest saints have been those most conscious of sin.⁵

      Christianity as an educative factor is one thing, but Christianity as a converting power is another [207] and greater thing. The mission of the Holy Spirit was to "convict of sin," and we must not lose sight of this fact; and when we take a wider view of religion we find that in nearly all religious experience a part is played by the sense of sin; and religions can be classified according to the means which they provide for escaping from this sense of sin. These means of escaping from the sense of sin dominate religious practice, and are bound up in customs and ritual. In the lower forms of religion sin is merely offence against custom. There is little beyond the legal view. Dr. Schweitzer has made clear how keen is the legal sense in the primitive men of Central Africa. "For him the legal side of an event is always the important one, and a large part of his time is spent in discussing legal cases. The most hardened litigant in Europe is but a child compared to the negro."⁶ It is true that sin always involves the existence of a law or standard, and the wilful falling away from it; but in the Christian sense it is more than this. We need to distinguish sin and sins. The latter are mere transgressions as compared with the former, and through equating them with sin, our sense of sin has been degraded. The modern man has little sense of sin. Sir Oliver Lodge has said, "The modern man is not concerned about sin." Above all things the need of our age is to recover a real Christian sense of sin, and with it will come the recognition of the true place and value of conversion, especially in regeneration, but also in sanctification. Psychologically sin is, in the first instance, what the New Testament has always [208] represented it to be--a matter of the will. It finds its raw material in the instincts which in themselves are non-moral. Sin itself is impossible where there is no moral consciousness. The instincts with which we are born are necessary to health, and are the store-houses of power. They may be the instruments of sin or of virtue, according to the use to which they are put. There is no sin in temptation itself. Man, unlike the animal creation, is rational as well as instinctive. They are creatures of appetite and instinct, and so is he at first; but he gradually becomes volitional. He distinguishes good and evil, and there arises the possibility of choice. Infants and animals do not think of their sins. There comes a stage in development when this is possible, and then there is a possibility of being moral or immoral. Previous to this a being is simply non-moral. Instincts prompt the will to act at all times, but gradually in man the will comes to be prompted by knowledge, reason, conscience, and finally the love and fear of God. Thus the will is prompted to lower or higher ends, to selfish or unselfish use of power. It is thus that sin becomes possible, and shows itself in the use of powers for selfish aims; which powers were given to be used for nobler ends--for the good of others. Therefore Christianity is first seen as a religion of unselfishness, and selfishness is sin. It is the way of the Cross--not of self-denial for the purpose of acquiring merit, but of self-sacrifice for the good of others. And when we fail here we sin in the true Christian sense. Sin is therefore only possible when, in the presence of a definite inhibition, from the sphere of knowledge, reason, or conscience, [209] we yield to the call of the lower nature; but this means that with conscious men and women it is always possible. Accepting sin in this sense, conversion is seen to be necessary, both in regeneration and sanctification.

      In the New Testament it is clear that conversion and regeneration are identical, though this we shall discuss below. For some centuries they remain so, although there gradually grows up in the minds of the Fathers an idea that Baptism--which in the New Testament and the primitive Church is the means of effecting regeneration⁷--acts like a charm, and of itself apart from operative faith and repentance in the convert, is able to convey the grace of God. It is clear from Patristic writings that such a belief was by no means universal, even as late as the fourth century. Undoubtedly, the belief was helped forward by the plain statement, "Except a man be born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter into the Kingdom of God."⁸ But alongside the growth of this idea must be placed a movement in the second and third centuries to postpone Baptism. Instead of infant Baptism becoming general, we have the widespread growth of the catechumenate system, and Baptism might even be deferred to the death-bed. In fact, infant Baptism which signifies the final separation of conversion and regeneration, does not become universal until the promulgation of the Augustinian doctrine of original sin or guilt. [210] It is now quite clear that no such doctrine had been received or taught by the Catholic Church before the days of Augustine. He was really the "Modernist," and so far as we confine his teaching to the sole subject of original guilt, Pelagius was "orthodox." Before the Catholic Church recovered from Augustinianism and returned to semi-Pelagianism, as it did in the middle ages, the teaching of Augustine had had its influence on the cultus if not on the belief of the Church, and infant Baptism had become universal--conversion and regeneration were finally separated. As long ago as 1886, Cunningham made this point clear: "As baptism was regeneration, and as no one could be saved unless he were regenerated, it followed that no one could be saved unless he were baptised. This . . . led to another change as to the recipients of baptism. . . . Infant baptism is never heard of during the first one hundred and fifty years of the Church's history. . . . But, notwithstanding the remonstrance of Tertullian, infant baptism came slowly into use. . . . But an old custom is not easily set aside. Nor was it easy to get rid of the obvious intention of baptism--the admission of a convert into the Christian Church, and his initiation into its mysteries on his open profession of the Christian faith. As long as baptism was of this kind there was something to be said for its being regarded as tantamount to regeneration. . . . But if unconscious infants were to be baptised, how could there be such a change unless it were effected by magic altogether apart from faith and knowledge? So adult baptism continued [211] to be the rule and infant baptism the exception for at least two centuries more. Even in the fourth century Gregory Nazianzen, Basil, Chrysostom, Ambrose, and Augustine, though they had Christian mothers, were not baptised till they had grown up to manhood. But when Augustine in his great controversy with Pelagius emphasised more strongly than ever the doctrine that baptism was absolutely essential to salvation--that it only could wipe out original sin--that all unbaptised persons, whatever their virtues or their worth, whatever their age or condition, must perish everlastingly--people everywhere crowded to the font as the only way of escape from so dreadful a doom."⁹

      Whatever mistakes we may see in the Reformation--and mistakes there undoubtedly were--we should ever be profoundly thankful that it was born of a moral impulse. It was a call to sanity and purity in life, and so above all other notes it sounded the one of justification by faith. Christianity was a religion of personal choice, and conversion once more became an absolute necessity in every individual life. But the Reformers went back on the doctrine of sin prevalent in their day in the Roman Church--they went back to the doctrine of Augustine. Corruption was widespread and--sin everywhere condoned. They needed some strong dogma which would help them to suppress the strongholds of sin, [212] and this they found in the interpretation which Augustine had given to the teaching of St. Paul. However necessary the return to this teaching of original guilt was, we cannot but regard it to-day as a retrograde step in theology. It was this return to the Augustinian doctrine of sin, together with the fact that it is always more difficult to change cultus than to alter belief, which undoubtedly kept infant Baptism and infant regeneration in their place at a time when the whole Protestant movement was insisting upon a true conversion in the individual. Only in the case of the Anabaptists was any change made, until the next century, when, under the preaching of Fox, the Quakers--practically repudiating the whole Augustinian system--rejected Baptism and the Lord's Supper entirely. Protestantism had indeed emphasised a need which had for centuries lain dormant--the need of true conversion--but it still retained the separation of conversion and regeneration. In all its credal statements, too, Baptism was equated with regeneration. The Augsburg Confession pronounced eternal death on all those who had not Baptism and the Spirit, and said that infants dying unbaptised were damned. As in the New Testament and the Catholic Church of the first four centuries Baptism and regeneration were one; but now regeneration and conversion were separated.

      To a Protestantism whose main belief is justification by faith, two ways of escape present themselves from this dilemma. Either conversion and regeneration must be made to synchronise, or Baptism must lose its value as an instrument of regeneration. [213] The former of these alternatives was that taken by the Anabaptists, the latter represents the general trend of normal Protestantism, even including, to some extent, the Established Church in England. And so, after three centuries of Protestantism, Baptism has come to have little value. Baptists, too, although they adhered strictly to the identification of regeneration and conversion, and made Baptism synchronise in some measure with conversion, came to regard it as little more than a ceremony. Parallel with this movement was the general tendency in Protestantism, including the Church of England, to put the Eucharist more and more into the background and to elevate preaching to the place of supreme importance. During the nineteenth century significant movements occurred in Protestantism. Amongst the Baptists was the movement inaugurated by Alexander Campbell in America, and, independently, by McLean and others in this country, to place a real value upon Baptism and to give it its place as the instrument of regeneration.¹⁰

      Augustinianism was completely rejected and conversion and regeneration identified, Baptism preceded by faith and repentance being the instrument of this change. This movement was in the main born of a study of the New Testament, [214] though the Fathers were not entirely neglected. In the Presbyterian Church, Irving began to stress the doctrine of the Incarnation, and though his lack of theological training led him into overstatement; the result of his teaching was to emphasise the importance of Baptism as an instrument of regeneration. And so Irvingism was developed with its stress upon the value of Baptism and the Eucharist, and its almost Catholic insistence that conversion is confined to the process of sanctification and has no part in regeneration.¹¹ In the Church of England the Catholic movement under Newman, Pusey, Ward, and Keble, began with a similar stress on sacramental values. It steadily grew and gained in influence, at first finding its strength in the writings of the Ante-Nicene Church, and later coming to insist more and more upon the value of the New Testament historically interpreted. Here, again, stress was laid upon the identity of Baptism with regeneration, and conversion was practically confined to the process of sanctification.

      Meanwhile Protestantism was inclined to place less and less value upon outward ceremonies. Under the influence of idealistic philosophy, especially Hegelianism, it emphasised more and more the spiritual side of Christianity, and apart from the two ordinances of Baptism and the Lord's Supper--it became distinctly non-sacramental, as it had become at the Reformation non-sacerdotal. What we know as Evangelicalism became the distinguishing feature of Protestantism, both within the [215] Established Church and throughout Nonconformity, as well as to some extent upon the Continent. Evangelicalism emphasised conversion and equated conversion with regeneration; but regeneration was entirely a spiritual matter, and a frequent interpretation of John iii. 5 was that it was to be taken in a strictly allegorical sense, and could have no reference to Baptism. But the cultus of infant Baptism was too firmly established to be removed, and Evangelicals, apart from the Salvation Army, were compelled to recognise and sanction it, though to support it they were often driven to methods of Biblical interpretation now no longer tenable.

      Several things have contributed towards bringing about a change in the theological world of our own day. First must be placed the revival,¹² early in the nineteenth century, of New Testament Criticism, with the consequent growth of the method of historical interpretation as opposed to the old method of textual theology. At first it is true that this strengthened the ultra-Protestant position, owing to the exclusion of a large number of writings from the canon; but eventually it has weakened the position which rejects Baptism as in any way connected with regeneration--even St. Paul is seen to be a sacramentalist. Hence the cry which we have heard, "Back to Jesus and the ethical Gospel." As a second factor we must place the development of a keener historical sense--a development which is [216] driving people back upon the New Testament more and more. Thirdly, comes the fact--however it has come about--that we are all Semi-Pelagians now, and Augustinianism, with its doctrine of original guilt, has gone for ever. Fourthly, there is the new science of Psychology, which has taught us many things about how religion works with man and how faith must operate; and last may be mentioned the movement, in the philosophical world, away from forms of pure idealism, with a consequent recognition of the sacramental principle in life.

      Thus Protestantism is more and more inclined to recognise alongside its doctrine of justification by faith, that the Spiritual may function through the physical; and that God does convey grace through the sacraments of Baptism and the Lord's Supper. Witness to this was seen as early as the days of Dale, and later in the teaching of men such as the late Drs. Forsyth and Cooper, and in an extreme form in the movement known as Free Catholicism.¹³ But still, by the majority the regeneration of Baptism is placed in the unconscious period, and thus separated from conversion; for, as we have pointed out, it is more difficult to change a religious practice than to alter belief. To justify this, various arguments are advanced, and these arguments we must proceed to examine.

      In a brief historical survey we have shown how conversion has come to be dissociated from Baptism [217] in both Protestant and Catholic types of Christianity. In many forms of Protestant Christianity conversion still plays a leading part, and is definitely associated with regeneration; but Baptism plays no part in this conversion and is in no sense an instrument of regeneration. In most of the Protestant forms, Baptism is administered in infancy, and has, therefore, no connection in time with the act of conversion. In others, where it more or less synchronises in point of time with the experience called conversion, Baptism is considered as having no saving value, nor as being in any sense the instrument of regeneration. Baptism still continues to be practised as a Church rite, but it has little or no value, and one wonders if after all in such a case the Society of Friends does not possess the logic of the situation.

      In Catholic forms of Christianity, on the other hand--conversion plays no part in regeneration--it is entirely confined to the process of sanctification. Regeneration, which is conveyed through Baptism, is more or less a mechanical operation, and many Catholics regard the fundamental mistake of Protestantism to be the confusing of regeneration and conversion. Dr. F. J. Hall puts the matter plainly from the Catholic point of view. "The first formidable departures from the catholic doctrine of Baptism took place among the Protestants and Reformers of the sixteenth century. These departures were due mainly to the Lutheran stress upon justification by faith only, and to the Calvinistic doctrine of secret election. They were made easy by the rejection of catholic authority, [218] and were defended by novel interpretations of New Testament passages on the subject, in which the important difference between regeneration and conversion was disregarded."¹⁴ Again, after admitting that "as a factor in salvation from sin, regeneration is closely associated with moral conversion and the new manner of conduct whereby conversion manifests itself,"¹⁵ he refers to 1 John iii. 9, 10, and Romans viii. 14, and goes on to say: "but these and other passages which are cited to prove that regeneration means conversion of heart and of conduct do not prove it. . . . The determinative reason why we cannot identify regeneration with conversion or moral change of heart is that regeneration is taught in the New Testament to be an effect of Baptism, and it is a patent fact of experience that that sacrament does not of itself normally cause conversion."¹⁶ We should certainly agree that in the New Testament regeneration is taught to be an effect of Baptism, and it is becoming less and less possible for scholars to hold any other view, apart from resort to the discarded methods of textual theology; but the mistake made by Dr. Hall in his argument is that of failing to see that Baptism in the New Testament always presupposes both faith and repentance. It is never regarded as bringing about what he himself calls a "biological" change apart from a moral change preceding. That he is guilty of this error is shown by another of his statements. "By [219] Baptism itself our sins are remitted, that is, if and when we fulfil the conditions of faith and repentance."¹⁷ In a footnote he further explains that infants offer no barrier of either unbelief or actual sin, and so are obviously excepted. But it is not a case of offering a barrier. Belief and repentance are both active, and according to the New Testament, are necessary preparations to our receiving the grace of Baptism. They are as essentially connected with the process of regeneration as they are with the whole process of sanctification. Dr. Hall admits that it is a patent fact that the sacrament does not of itself normally cause conversion, and this is exactly what the New Testament has to say on the matter; but Dr. Hall, when he says this is thinking of infant Baptism, and the fact that thousands baptised in infancy do not even profess any Christianity. We admit that baptised people, even when Baptism forms the culminating act of conversion, sometimes "fail to produce righteousness because of failure to co-operate with the enabling grace which Baptism affords"; but if this grace can be conveyed to infants without their seeking for it, or being able to comprehend it in any way, then baptised infants are really in a worse plight than unbaptised, for they have an added grace which they are able to draw upon, and if they fail eventually--as thousands do--to become in any sense Christian, they are certainly more culpable than children who have never received such grace. The situation which arises can scarcely be called a moral one. The same cannot be said of those who of their own free will [220] prepare for and receive this grace, and then become reprobate; for having sought the grace, they are in every sense morally responsible for failing to co-operate, or in other words for neglecting the process of sanctification, or ceasing to work out their own salvation with fear and trembling. Certainly the Catholic teaching on regeneration compels us to regard Baptism as a charm--but, unfortunately, it is a charm which too often fails to operate. Bishop Gore, perhaps more than any other Catholic theologian, seems to be conscious of this failure of Baptism to operate. He claims that "the whole New Testament suggests that baptism, the ceremony of incorporation into Christ and into His Church, is the instrument of our regeneration,"¹⁸ and then he goes on to emphasise the fact that this does not mean that Baptism in the New Testament is ever set forth as a charm. "To be sons of God involves co-operation on our part with the act of God in us. Thus St. John would be as far as possible from allowing us to treat baptism as a charm. He would not, I think, sanction our struggling to 'get people baptised,' with little or no regard to their dispositions; nor surely would he sanction the baptism of infants, except with a very real guarantee for their being brought up to understand the meaning of what had been bestowed upon them."¹⁹ This statement goes a very long way towards destroying the main argument which Catholics have advanced in favour of infant Baptism; but if co-operation is involved on our part as it certainly [221] is in the teaching of St. John, it is impossible to see how he could have regarded the Baptism of infants, even with full guarantees of their being brought up to understand its meaning, in any way except as being alien to the principles of the Christianity he taught. Moreover, if Baptism, i.e., regeneration, is to be operative in unconscious infants, how can it be anything but a charm, whatever the guarantees given?

      As Bishop Gore says, there is no tendency to treat Baptism as a charm in the Johannine writings, and we shall not expect to find it so treated in the earlier writings of the New Testament. It may be safely said that whilst this tendency is growing up during the latter part of the second and the early part of the third centuries, it does not receive full expression until we come to Cyprian, in the middle of the third century.²⁰ He insists that the whole human race must be regenerated from the beginning and thus claims that Baptism must be administered at birth. He is clear, however, that the infant just born has not sinned at all; but it brings with it the taint of nature's death; this is the real beginning of the separation of conversion--the moral change in the individual--from regeneration.

      It is clear that the New Testament writers regard Baptism as the means of regeneration. In the Synoptic Gospels it is connected with salvation, and in St. John iii. 5 it is definitely connected with being born again. In the first thirty years of [222] missionary enterprise recorded in the Acts it is described as "for the remission of sins," and as "washing away sins."²¹ In the teaching of St. Paul it is "a death and a resurrection to new life," a "putting on of Christ," a "bath of regeneration." St. Peter says that "even Baptism doth also now save us," and the writer of the Hebrews regards it as a prerequisite to our approach to God. But everywhere also in the New Testament Baptism demands an active, not a passive subject--a co-operation on the part of the candidate--and is regarded as an activity arising out of a previous moral change which we have called conversion. As such, although it is the means of regeneration, it cannot be regarded as a charm, and it is the failure to recognise this New Testament truth which has led to Baptism being so regarded.

      Even the Baptism of John required a previous moral change--"Bring forth therefore fruit worthy of repentance."²² It was called "the Baptism of repentance" to distinguish it from others of a more magical character which were in vogue in certain mystery cults; the Baptism of Jesus was for disciples and necessitated previous belief. The call of the missionaries to the people was to get themselves baptised. In the Acts every Baptism is preceded by conviction of sin, leading to repentance and a conscious acceptance of the salvation offered in Christ Jesus. Whether the confession demanded by Philip of the Eunuch is part of the original book or [223] no, it testifies to the practice of the early Church of demanding a confession of the simplest of all creeds, before Baptism.²³ St. Paul everywhere connects Baptism with faith and conscious acceptance of the Gospel, and St. Peter shows that the Baptism which he claims as a saving sacrament is "the answer of a good conscience towards God,²⁴ a meaningless statement if Baptism is preceded by no moral change. The only places in the New Testament which seem to indicate that Baptism operates apart from the co-operation of the subject are Titus iii. 5 and John iii. 5. The former passage, however, is definitely connected with " being justified by grace," which cannot be taken in the sense of the grace being conveyed by God irrespective of the attitude of the recipient; for St. Paul, in verse 8, refers to these same justified persons as having "believed God." In the latter of the two passages it is clear that, unless separated from its context, it bears no such meaning, for it is definitely connected in the discourse which follows with belief and moral activity. In keeping with this, Acts iii. 19 connects conversion and regeneration, and, throughout the New Testament, conversion--active co-operation of the subject through faith and repentance--is necessary to the remission of sins and regeneration, which come through Baptism.

      The doctrine of original guilt as taught by Augustine in the fourth and fifth centuries was the main factor in establishing infant Baptism, though [224] Augustinianism never really became the ground of Catholic theology, and was not widely accepted until the days of the Protestant Reformers. Infant Baptism separates conversion from regeneration, except for those Protestants who do not regard Baptism as in any sense an instrument of regeneration. But to-day the doctrine of original guilt is no longer held by either Protestant or Catholic theologians. How has this change come about? Mr. Moxon has traced the history of the change very ably, and we shall content ourselves with making some quotations from his book.²⁵ To do justice to Augustine we should recognise, as Mr. Moxon does, that his conception of grace as a real power communicated by God to man was of great value. It is on this conception that all sacramental efficacy is based. This is thoroughly in accord with the teaching of the New Testament; but the conveying of such grace in Baptism is there found to be dependent upon the attitude of the subject--an attitude of faith and repentance. In the New Testament not only are faith and repentance necessary prerequisites to the grace of Baptism, but also to the grace of the Lord's Supper. The writer to the Hebrews exhorts that we draw near in the full assurance of faith, and having our hearts sprinkled from an evil conscience.²⁶ St. Paul emphasises that we should examine ourselves, and shows the possibility of eating to our own condemnation where faith is absent.²⁷ And if we go outside the two great sacraments, and extend the term to lesser means by which grace is conveyed, [225] we find the same thing is true. In the case of unction of the sick, both faith and penitence for sin were necessary to healing.²⁸ Absolution from sins is only possible through repentance and faith, and our Lord taught that prayer is valueless apart from faith and an attitude of penitence.

      But Augustine was obsessed by the doctrine of original guilt built up on a false exegesis of two Pauline passages. "Hence Augustine taught that infants dying without baptism, the only means provided for the washing away of birth-sin, fall under the same condemnation, and since they possess Original Sin must of necessity be lost."²⁹ Such was the doctrine of Luther, and it affected the English Church when, in 1662, the rubric forbidding the recital of the burial service over unbaptised infants was placed in the Prayer Book. Mr. Moxon points out that "as a result of this error Augustine was led to a series of inconsistent and unsatisfactory conclusions, whilst some features of his teaching are absolutely abhorrent to modern minds. . . . Augustine admits that sin springs from the will, yet he asserts that it is for inherited sin that man will be lost. This implies that Original Sin is to be accounted more serious than wilful sin--a view which is in conflict with all sane judgment. . . . Original Guilt is a feature of Augustinianism that is a shocking travesty of the Catholic Faith.'³⁰ Mr. Moxon, in another passage, ably sums up the modern position in relation to Augustine's teaching: "It is now generally felt that Augustine's view of the [226] guilt of Original Sin involves a contradiction in terms, and on the face of it stands self-condemned. Guilt is only predicable of the individual's wilful act, and for that reason this view has been rejected by many theologians who, while retaining Original Sin, repudiate Original Guilt."³¹

      Augustine worked out his doctrine in controversy with Pelagius; the British monk. It is difficult to discover what were the main tenets of Pelagius' teaching. There is no doubt that certain features were definitely heretical, but much that he taught was undoubtedly the faith which had been held by the whole Church, and on the doctrine of original guilt Augustine was the innovator. The Eastern Church refused to condemn Pelagius, and so did Rome at first; but, finally, at the Synod of Carthage (A. D. 418), he was condemned as a heretic, and Rome gave way and acquiesced in the condemnation the same year. But Augustinianism never gained a real hold on Latin Christianity, which eventually became, and still remains, semi-Pelagian, accepting the doctrine of co-operation between the will of man and the grace of God. Of semi-Pelagian views Mr. Moxon says: "There is now a widespread feeling that they are nearer to catholic truth than are the opposite views, which have been responsible for much that is harsh and unlovely in Latin Christianity."³² And again: "In conclusion, be it said that we to-day owe the very greatest debt to semi-Pelagianism for its manly protest against Latin novelties, which not only rendered mediæval Christianity hard and coarse, but which have up to the present day [227] been a source of great weakness to the Western Church."³³

      The Reformers--both Calvin and Luther--went back to Augustinianism. It was a retrograde step in theology. "So far as they based their anthropology upon the conclusions reached by Augustine they went backwards rather than forwards."³⁴ There can be no doubt, as Mr. Moxon says, that "the doctrine of Original Guilt was retained by various Protestant Churches after the Reformation; yet being as it is contrary to common reason, it has necessarily been abandoned by modern theology."³⁵ In Calvinism and Lutheranism grace was entirely the operation of God, and in no sense depended for its efficacy upon the co-operation of man. Man is totally depraved, and the sinful will is impotent. Luther says: "In his actings towards God, in things pertaining to salvation or damnation, man has no free-will, but is the captive, the subject, and the servant either of the will of God or of Satan,"³⁶ and the Lutheran Formula of Concord declares "before man is illumined, converted, regenerated, and drawn by the Holy Spirit, he can no more operate, co-operate, or even make a beginning, towards his conversion or regeneration with his own natural powers than can a stone, a tree, or a piece of clay."³⁷ Calvin also asserted that the will was totally depraved [228] and remained passive until acted upon by the Holy Spirit. Thus even to-day we hear sung: "Doing is a deadly thing; doing ends in death."

      As opposed to this feature of Protestantism, the Council of Trent, though in some of its utterances seeming to lean a little towards Augustinianism, boldly asserted: "If any one shall affirm that the free-will of man was lost and became extinct after the sin of Adam . . . let him be accursed,"³⁸ and again: "If anyone shall affirm that the sinner is justified by faith alone, in the sense that nothing else is requisite, which may co-operate towards the attainment of the Grace of justification, and that the sinner does not need to be prepared and disposed by the motion of his own will: let him be accursed."³⁹ Followed to its logical conclusion, such teaching would abolish infant Baptism, and bring regeneration and conversion together. But Catholicism stopped short of returning to this primitive position. It has, however--unlike Protestantism--always insisted on two things. First, it has insisted that faith and repentance are necessary prerequisites to Baptism, and that these must be pledged through sponsors when infants are baptised; and, secondly, it has insisted that Confirmation is in some sense the completion of Baptism, and--except in the Greek Church--has delayed Confirmation until the will is able to co-operate. Thus, Mr. Moxon says, "The supposition so frequently implied, that the doctrine of the Church is Augustinianism, rests upon ignorance of two great facts: (1) that there was no Augustinianism before Augustine, and that his [229] views are no part of primitive Christianity; and (2) that the individual speculations of Augustine were profoundly modified by semi-Pelagian tendencies."⁴⁰

      The Reformers carried Augustinianism to its logical conclusion, and introduced the awful doctrines of total depravity of human nature and the damnation of infants dying unbaptised. "Gradually however, the reaction has set in. Calvinism is as much repudiated by Nonconformists as by members of the Church of England. Wesleyans, it may be noted, were always Arminians, and most Churchmen may be regarded as holding semi-Pelagian views, albeit unconsciously and instinctively."⁴¹ This reaction has come about through a long development of thought in philosophical and scientific realms, as well as in the realm of theology proper. Theories which resolve sin into a mere illusion have had their day, and are re-appearing in our own time in more than one form; but they have no real hold upon the thought of our day, and they do not concern us here. From the scientific side the doctrine of evolution has certainly contributed towards banishing the idea of original guilt in the Augustinian sense, and on the philosophical side the work of Kant, with its emphasis on the will, went far towards making untenable any theory which held to the impotence of the human will in co-operating with Divine grace. From the realm of theology, perhaps the most potent influence towards negating the doctrine of original guilt comes from Ritschl, who links up sin with ignorance, and in its final stages with choice. [230]

      But the most powerful influence in leading men away from the doctrine of original guilt has come from the study of Psychology--a study which has shown us, to some extent, how the mind of man works, and what sin in man is. Psychology certainly leads to the conclusion that "Original sin is not 'sin' at all in the strict sense, but rather the possibility of sin, or a high degree of liability to sin, higher than ought to be."⁴² This is all that the New Testament teaches it is. Sin arises through the misuse of primitive instincts which in themselves are not evil--sin is selfishness. But nevertheless it is universal--that is, there is an inherited tendency to use the natural instincts for selfish ends. This means there can be no guilt apart from moral responsibility. "The human infant is a non-moral animal. . . . Moral sense is not at first present, is not born with the child, but is gradually acquired. Not until the dawn of will and reason does morality become a possibility, and until the moral sentiment appears the existence of sin is, of course, excluded."⁴³ Thus with the doctrine of Original Guilt goes what, in the fourth century, was the chief argument for infant Baptism, and the final means in separating conversion from regeneration; and out of this, too, arises the importance of the early years of adolescence for conversion. It is at this stage that will and reason begin to operate more fully and moral sentiment is awakened: conversion becomes a necessity and regeneration is possible.⁴⁴ [231]

      We have still to reckon with arguments which linger on from a past age to support the separation of Baptism from conversion, and consequently the practice of infant Baptism. Such arguments attempt to find the practice of infant Baptism in the New Testament itself, by the use of analogy from circumcision or other Jewish practices in connection with proselytes, or by reference to the household Baptisms, and finally by a further reference to the much disputed passage in 1 Corinthians vii. 14.⁴⁵ Fewer and fewer New Testament scholars and Church historians are found to lend their support to such arguments, however; and at least most Catholic teachers and a number of Protestant scholars are inclined now to admit that the practice was not authorised by Christ or His Apostles, but that it is in keeping with the principles they gave to the Church. Some scholars, however, still put forward the arguments much in the same way that they were used by the well-known commentator Barnes. Amongst these none states his view so definitely as Dr. Bartlet: "Baptism, whereby status as incorporated members was conferred and corresponding obligations undertaken, 'sealed' not only converts by personal adhesion, . . . but also their children, whatever their age or incapacity to make personal confession. This was entirely in accord with ancient religion generally, as well as Judaism itself in the matter of circumcision, to which, in the case of children of proselytes, baptism also was [232] added. The religion of a family was determined by that of the pater familias, before any question of subjective choice or personal faith could arise with years of discretion. . . . This was the view of Jews, and this no doubt shaped the usage of the Messianic Israel within Israel, as the words of Peter at Pentecost imply. . . . On such presuppositions of religious solidarity between parent and child, Paul regarded the child even of a single Christian parent not as 'unclean,' but 'holy,' in a corporate or social sense, in virtue of its parent's Covenant with God."⁴⁶ Professor Gwatkin was by no means so sure about the matter as this. He believed that infant Baptism came in by this process of reasoning in the Apostolic age, but that it was not original to Christianity; whereas Dr. Bartlet finds his justification in the Acts of the Apostle. Thus Professor Gwatkin said: "As regards infant baptism, there can be little doubt that it dates back to the Apostolic age. The Jewish custom of circumcision was suggestive;"⁴⁷ but he qualified this statement in a marked degree when he went on to say, "On the other hand, we have good evidence that infant baptism is no direct institution either of the Lord Himself or of His apostles. There is no trace of it in the New Testament. Every discussion of the subject presumes persons old enough to have faith and repentance, and no case of baptism is recorded, except of such persons, for the whole 'households' mentioned would in that age mean [233] dependents and slaves as naturally as they suggest children to the English reader. St. Paul's argument, 'else were your children unclean, whereas in fact they are holy,' is a two-edged sword."⁴⁸

      Those who incline towards Modernism do not, of course, find much in common between the Christian sacraments and Judaism, and on the whole, therefore, they are fairly definite in renouncing the early origin of infant Baptism. Professor Williston Walker says: "The strong probability is that till past the middle of the second century persons baptised were those only of years of discretion."⁴⁹ He does not regard the practice as having originated through any analogy drawn from circumcision, but, as we have argued, he thinks it arose from a false exegesis of John iii. 5, and he agrees that infant Baptism did not become universal until the sixth century. Thus Harnack, speaking of the Apostolic and sub-Apostolic age, says, "There is no sure trace of infant Baptism in this epoch; personal faith is a necessary condition."⁵⁰

      Catholic writers are more generally inclined to admit that infant Baptism was no institution of Christ and His Apostles. Döllinger says: "There is no proof or hint in the New Testament that the Apostles baptised infants, or ordered them to be baptised."⁵¹ Duchesne gives not a hint in his book that he regards infant Baptism as of very early [234] origin.⁵² This is more or less the situation in rough outline as we find it to-day, and from our point of view the most serious argument is that presented by Dr. Bartlet with regard to circumcision.

      In the first place, the argument is built up on the assumption of a close affinity between Judaism and early Christianity. That there was such affinity in many respects is clear, but there were points at which Christianity broke clean away from the Judaism from which it sprang. Our Lord was no mere Jewish prophet, and, as Dr. Bartlet has himself elsewhere claimed, Christianity was at once more spiritual and individual in its teaching about salvation. There is not a trace in early Christianity of the national ideal which so characterises Judaism; people were born into the family of Abraham, but they became Christian by personal choice. Such a mechanical idea as is involved in the religion of the "family being determined by that of the pater familias" is alien to the whole teaching of Christ, who came to set son against father and daughter against mother; and the very passage which Dr. Bartlet quotes⁵³ shows a case where the religion of the family was not determined by that of its head. In fact, it is very doubtful how far such a rule obtained in the Roman world of the first century. That there was real conflict between Judaism and Christianity from the beginning, as well as some [235] contact, needs no proof, and unless it can be shown by unmistakable evidence that the pater familias idea in Judaism was carried over, we have no right to assume it. In fact, all the evidence points the other way. Such a competent scholar as Dr. Rendel Harris has declared that in all his researches he has not discovered a single baptised infant in the first century.

      The Baptism of proselytes into Judaism is too precarious an argument on which to base much. Such Baptism is not mentioned by Josephus or Philo, and even if we accept the fact, it does not follow that Christian Baptism was in any sense analogous. Certainly the Baptism of John was something of a totally different nature, in that it was a Baptism of repentance; and it is more properly the antecedent of Christian Baptism than Jewish proselyte Baptism. If there was any connection between John's Baptism and proselyte Baptism, or between Christian baptism and proselyte baptism, the Synoptic writers show no knowledge of such connection, for they represent John's Baptism as something entirely new, and this is fatal to Dr. Bartlet's argument.

      But the whole argument from circumcision rests on far too narrow a basis. In the first place, it is now well-known that circumcision as a rite, and even as a religious rite, was in no sense the prerogative of Jews. Its origin is hidden in the dim past, and the references to it in the Old Testament are by no means so numerous as is often imagined. Its real purposes in Judaism are very difficult to discover, and it may certainly be said that there is no ground for [236] assuming that its purpose was solely to admit people into the Jewish race. Though amongst some peoples it was practised on males and females alike, yet amongst the Jews it was restricted to males, and this at once suggests--even remembering the different status of women--that it was not its sole purpose to introduce into the Jewish community. All who were born in the wilderness were not circumcised by Joshua until they reached Palestine, and yet they were no less Israelites during the period of their sojourn. St. Paul argues, that the covenant of God with Abraham was made before circumcision.⁵⁴ Amongst many races, circumcision is the rite of initiation into manhood, rather than a mark of membership in a tribe, and it is a peculiarity of Jewish circumcision that it is practised on infants. Certainly amongst the Jews of Apostolic days it had something to do with bodily purification and cleanliness, as well as being a religious ceremony. It is for these reasons that its practice was continued by Jewish Christians, and in no sense was Baptism supposed to take its place; and when these Jewish Christians wished to force the rite of circumcision on Gentiles, it is strange, if Baptism was regarded in any sense as taking the place of circumcision, that St. Paul should not have used this as an argument against the Judaisers. Only in one passage⁵⁵ is there any shadow of a connection in his teaching between Baptism and circumcision, and here it is clear that the circumcision is no more closely connected with Baptism than faith is, and that the circumcision refers to the faith and repentance exercised previous [237] to Baptism. It was a circumcision "not made with hands," and in verse 13 is identical with the quickening. It is because faith and Baptism are so closely connected that circumcision is here found in such close relationship to Baptism. Elsewhere St. Paul definitely connects circumcision with the heart, most likely referring to Jeremiah iv. 4. With St. Paul any idea of circumcision which has passed over into Christianity is purely a spiritual one, and is in no way connected with a physical rite, and the other New Testament writers outside the Acts make not a single reference to circumcision, although there are frequent references to Baptism. The Jewish writer to the Hebrews rather sees in Baptism a fulfilling of the washings of the priests.

      But the contention we wish to make that the idea of connecting Baptism with circumcision is not to be found in early Christianity, neither was it the ground of infant Baptism being adopted, is further strengthened: first, by the fact that when infant Baptism is introduced by Origen, it is not supported by any such argument, nor does Tertullian refer to the argument in refuting infant Baptism.⁵⁶ Infant Baptism arose not through any doctrine of original sin, nor scarcely at all through any analogy drawn from circumcision, but in the main through a false exegesis of John iii. 5. The earliest writer to draw an analogy between Baptism and circumcision is Cyprian, and his language is very doubtful.⁵⁷ Secondly, our contention is supported by the fact that before the time of Cyprian circumcision is [238] regarded as a type of faith, not of Baptism. The special purpose of the writer of the epistle of Barnabas is to show how Christianity fulfilled Judaism. He is often fantastic in his exegesis of Old Testament passages, but he shows clearly that for him circumcision is fulfilled in Christianity by the hearing of the Gospel.⁵⁸ He finds Baptism prefigured in the Old Testament, but he knows nothing of any connection which it has with circumcision. This is indeed strange if "the Jewish custom of circumcision was suggestive." Justin Martyr finds Baptism prefigured, not in circumcision, but in the unleavened bread,⁵⁹ and Tertullian, at the close of the second century, again connects circumcision with hearing, and incidentally emphasises his belief that circumcision for the Jews was not connected with salvation, whereas the spiritual circumcision of Christians is.⁶⁰ At any rate, he, too, knows nothing of an argument which pleads for infant Baptism on the grounds of any analogy between Baptism and circumcision. Apart from the doubtful passage in Cyprian, the argument that Baptism came in the place of circumcision is a comparatively modern one. The New Testament writers, and those of the second century, seem to be entirely unconscious of it.

      The argument for infant Baptism drawn from the household Baptisms in the New Testament is, to-day, not very much stressed, but we may note one [239] or two things in passing. Household Baptisms must be interpreted according to the rest of the New Testament teaching on Baptism, and unless it can be shown that Baptism apart from faith and repentance was ever conceived of by early Christians, we may not read back into the household cases that children were there. Moreover, in every case of a household, being baptised--except that of Lydia--it is clearly stated that they believed or rejoiced--that is, there is some indication that all in the household were capable of making a response to the Gospel. In the case of Lydia's--a travelling household, and presumably one without a male head--there is little likelihood of children; but if we definitely knew that infants were included, we could not therefore argue their Baptism in the light of the fact that everywhere faith and repentance are pre-supposed as necessary before Baptism is administered, and that the subjects of Baptism are always regarded as being active, and not passive. This was one point where Christianity rose above Judaism and many oriental faiths--it demanded personal choice. Without being irreverent, we may point out that this feature of Christianity is first marked in our Lord Himself. His was a Personal choice, and His own Baptism is significant. The history of religions shows a development from family units to tribal and national faiths. But the highest development of all is not the national faith such as we find in the Jewish religion at the time of our Lord; but the call to individual surrender combined with social responsibilities. Nowhere is this combination so perfect as in Christianity, with its [240] doctrine of conversion and its demand that conversion, or self-surrender, must be the starting-point of discipleship; and its emphasis upon the corporate side, its institutionalism or its doctrine of the Church. Unless we accept Christianity as a patched up Judaism, we cannot carry over the pater familias idea from one to the other; and if we attempt to carry it over we shall find that the whole of our Lord's teaching, with His insistence on personal surrender, forbids such a transition.

      So the household argument is being pushed more and more into the background, and to-day one scarcely ever hears the argument from "suffer the children to come unto Me." Professor Gwatkin was convinced that there was no trace of infant Baptism in the New Testament, and said: "It is absurd to quote Mark x. 14, or Acts ii. 39 to prove that the practice existed."⁶¹ Likewise he rejected the passage on holy children in 1 Corinthians vii. 14, as does also Mr. Nathaniel Micklem in his small commentary on the Epistle.⁶² But it is claimed that in all these three passages the principle underlying infant Baptism is approved, and that when the first missionary age of the Church had passed away the practice entered in. Professor Gwatkin, whilst he refused to admit the practice as Apostolic, claimed that when St. Paul declared the children of a mixed marriage holy, he declared that they were fit subjects for Baptism. This might be allowed if the low doctrine of Baptism found in many Evangelical circles to-day were to be found in the New [241] Testament. We must not read back into the New Testament the conditions of our own time. Unfortunately for this argument, in the New Testament Baptism is "for the remission of sins," and is said to "wash away sins," and the very fact that these children were holy was an argument against their Baptism. Again, it may be pointed out that if the passage proves the principle of infant Baptism, it proves too much; for, on the same principle, the unbelieving husband of the wife must be baptised. As we have pointed out, the idea of being "federally holy" is unknown in the New Testament. Neither is it found in this passage. Nearly all commentators will be found to agree that the word akatharta, used here by St. Paul, denotes that which is impure, defiled, or idolatrous in a Levitical sense, or in a moral sense, and that here it properly signifies illegitimacy. The subject under discussion by St. Paul is not Baptism, but marriage. Marriage with heathens was sharply forbidden by him, but here he allows that where the marriage had already existed previous to one party becoming a Christian, it is clean, and not to be dissolved. It must be remembered that uncleanness was by these people considered infectious, or, at least contagious. He settles the whole argument by appealing to the fact that the children were considered legitimate--that is, the result of a clean union. It is a problem which constantly faces the modern missionary, and doubtless he uses the same argument.⁶³ [242]

      That the argument for infant Baptism is necessarily weakened by admitting that it did not become an institution until after the first missionary age of the Church is very evident. For if it came in through an analogy drawn from circumcision, as Dr. Bartlet claims, surely--if at any age--it would have entered when the Church was most under Judaising influences, and thus he argues for it in the early chapters of Acts. If, on the other hand, Christian teachers were influenced by the new conditions arising after the first missionary age--say, after two generations of Christianity--then the children of these two generations were in a most unfortunate position. But what were the new conditions in their relationship to infants? If it was right for infants born of Christian parents--that is, Christians of the second generation--to be baptised, then why not, when both parents were converted from heathenism, baptise their infants and irresponsible children with them? And it must be remembered that there would be plenty of infants born into Christian families long before A. D. 60, to say nothing of the second generation of Christians from A. D. 60-96, which is still within the Apostolic period. If as those who use this argument admit, Baptism of infants was "no direct institution of the Apostles," and yet it was in full accord with their principles and those of Christ, then we can only regard the Apostles as very short-sighted men indeed. No! it is much safer to argue--as Dr. Bartlet does--for infant Baptism in the early [243] chapters of Acts, only, unfortunately, the proof is wanting.

      But, apart from all this, where in the sub-Apostolic period is there a single case of infant Baptism, or where is any knowledge of it evinced by a single writer? The only case is the supposed one of Polycarp, who, at his martyrdom, declares: "Four-score-and-six years have I been His servant, and He hath done me no wrong."⁶⁴ It is argued that as he had made a long journey a year or two before he could not well be over eighty-six at the time he was speaking, and therefore he must have been baptised in infancy. The argument is very precarious, for, in the first place, if Polycarp had been reared in a Christian home, it is doubtful whether he could not have used language like this of his whole life, although his Baptism had taken place when he had become responsible for his own actions; and, in the second place, if his Baptism had taken place when he was twelve (and it might have been earlier), at his martyrdom he would have been ninety-eight, and so his journey might have been taken when about ninety-five or ninety-six. We have a tradition about the Apostle John enduring a far greater hardship at what must have been a similar age, and cases of extraordinary virility accompanying advanced age are not unknown in our own day. Nothing more than an inference can be drawn from the passage, and if it is an inference contrary to the rest of the evidence, it is one that cannot be allowed. And such it is, for not until we come to Origen (A. D. 185) [244] do we find a case of infant Baptism.⁶⁵ It arises on African soil, from whence comes later the doctrine of original guilt. Undoubtedly the African Church had much to contribute towards Christian thought, but as we survey the whole history of early Christianity we are bound to admit that much that was non-Christian, and some things that were anti-Christian, entered into the beliefs and practices of the later Catholicism from this very source. But arising on African soil as it does, it is attacked from the same quarter by Tertullian, who says: "Let them become Christians when they have become able to know Christ. Why does the innocent period of life hasten to the remission of sins?"⁶⁶ Infant Baptism should be clearly distinguished from child Baptism, and the whole argument of Tertullian would lead us to believe that what really happened was, not the sudden introduction of the Baptism of infants, but a gradual pushing back of the age in the case of the children of Christian parents. With Cyprian, infant Baptism has become a fact, but it is by no means universal, as it must have been on Dr. Bartlet's theory that it was from the beginning. This pushing back of the age is as early as Irenæus, but it is not until Origen propounds his doctrine of pre-existent sinning souls that there is any logic for infant Baptism. As Harnack says: "It was easy for Origen to justify child Baptism, as he recognised something sinful in corporeal birth itself. . . . The earliest justification of child Baptism may therefore be traced back to a philosophical doctrine."⁶⁷ [245]

      In the sub-Apostolic age and the age of the apologists every statement about Baptism presupposes faith and repentance. Thus the writer of the Epistle of Barnabas says: "Blessed are they who, placing their trust in the Cross, have gone down into the water,"⁶⁸ and Justin Martyr, in the middle of the second century, makes it quite clear that Baptism in his day--that is, the fourth generation of Christianity--was a matter of personal surrender. "As many as are persuaded and believe that what we teach and say is true," is his description of those coming to Baptism⁶⁹, and lest it be thought, as Gwatkin claims, that he has in mind only normal cases, and leaves out of account the extraordinary cases of infants born in the Christian fold, we note that he goes on to contrast physical birth with this new birth in Baptism. "Since at our birth we were born without our own knowledge or choice, by our parents coming together, and were brought up in bad habits and wicked training; in order that we may not remain the children of necessity and of ignorance, but may become the children of choice and knowledge, and may obtain in the water the remission of sins formerly committed, there is pronounced over him who chooses to be born again, and has repented of his sins, the name of God the Father and the Lord of the universe."

      But the whole matter as regards the first half of the second century, especially with regard to household Baptisms, is made most clear by a passage in the Apology of Aristides. Describing the Christians, he says: "but as for their servants or handmaids or [246] their children, if any of them have any, they persuade them to become Christians for the love that they have towards them."⁷⁰ Nothing could be plainer than this. If there was any infant Baptism practised, or any household Baptism in the sense in which we are urged to find it in the Acts, Aristides certainly knew nothing of it. Neither in the Apostolic nor in the sub-Apostolic age is it to be found; but, as Harnack says: "Complete obscurity prevails as to the Church's adoption of the practice of child baptism, which, though it owes its origin to the idea of this ceremony being indispensable to salvation, is nevertheless a proof that the superstitious view of baptism had increased. . . . To all appearance the practice of immediately baptising the children of Christian families was universally adopted in the Church in the course of the third century."⁷¹

      Such is the history of the separation of Baptism from conversion. For those who hold that Baptism in itself is a charm, and can produce regeneration, the separation remains; but, as we have shown, such a position cannot be justified from the New Testament,⁷² nor does it seem to lend dignity to the Christian faith. Moreover, the position cannot be consistently held without infant communion. This the Western Church definitely rejected, after it [247] had for some time been practised. Is it too much to hope that a saner Catholicism will yet come, in the renouncing of this parallel practice? For those who do not allow any regenerating value to Baptism, two ways seem open. Either to dispense with the sacrament altogether or to restore it to its place in close connection to moral conversion--that is, faith and repentance. Protestantism retained infant Baptism because of its Augustinian doctrine of original guilt. That is gone, but the cultus still remains. Without Augustinianism, Protestants would never have retained the practice. For the successors of the Reformers, Augustinianism is impossible. Why, then, retain its outward and visible sign? At least the principles of Christianity demand that conversion and regeneration remain inseparable.⁷³ [248]

[EOCU 203-248]