After an involuntary pause for a few moments, owing to the deep emotion in the congregation, poor Josey was led forward. Minister and congregation seemed to make but slight impression upon him; Henry Ferguson was the charm throughout; he even turned his head, while the minister's hand was on it, to smile at the child. The promise was not only to those believing parents, all of them, and to their own children, but to him that was afar off; his new parents having availed themselves of the large covenant of grace, to invoke its promised blessings upon him, on the ground of their faith. "May these parents," said the pastor in his prayer, "remember, in all times of solicitude and trouble with this dear dependent child, that the Holy Spirit, the Comforter, in whose name he is baptized, can have access to his mind, 'making wise the simple;' and may that blessed Spirit make him his care."

Part of the time, while the hymn following the baptism was read and sung, I found myself pursuing some thoughts which the interesting scene just witnessed had suggested.

Bertha and Her Baptism — Part 53

Why, I asked myself, could not these parents have been satisfied with dedicating these children at home, without this public and special act of consecration?

Bertha and Her Baptism — Part 53

I was at no loss for an answer. The same reason applies as when one seeks admission to the church of Christ, by a public profession of religion, either by appearing before a congregation and assenting to a covenant, or to be confirmed, or to be immersed in water. Offering a child in baptism is making a public profession of religion with regard to it. Some say to us, What need is there of joining a church? Why may I not be a Christian by myself? We know what we say, in reply to such questions. We are aware how much the public act helps the private feelings and conduct, besides being required by our feelings when they are deep and strong. I thought of this illustration: In the wakeful moments of the night, upon a lonely bed, one feels a special nearness to God. He can think of God, as he lies upon his pillow, both with prayer and meditation; but suppose that he rises from his bed and kneels at the bedside, and, with oral prayer, prevents the night-watches, and cries? His voice at that midnight hour affects his mind; the darkness and stillness impress him with a sense of the presence of God, and though his ejaculations on his pillow were acceptable, has he not probably done that which, through Christ, is peculiarly acceptable to God, and is profitable to himself as his child? He who was always in communion with the Father, the man Christ Jesus, nevertheless, sometimes withdrew into a mountain, and continued all night in prayer, and, rising up a great while before day, he went into a solitary place, and there prayed. These special acts of worship, no true Christian needs to be told, are good and acceptable to God, and profitable for men. We do not refrain from them, pleading that they are nowhere commanded in the New Testament, or, that, so long as we pray at stated times, or strive to live in a praying frame, these special devotions are superfluous. So, while it is our duty and privilege to dedicate our children to God in private, it is acceptable to him, and profitable to us, if we take them, and bring an offering, and come into his courts.

Bertha and Her Baptism — Part 53