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Practically, the churches of the Reformation outside of the Baptist ranks were strangers to the highest doctrine in the scale of human rights, that of private judgment; they alone expounded, maintained and extended it to all. All persons were forced into the national churches by law. No matter how profane or skeptical they might be, the law made all members of the Church, and compelled the most licentious to go to the Lord’s table, on pain of fine and torture. As clear and resolute thinkers, the Baptists saw that the Protest at Spire [see next paragraph], in teaching personal justification by faith, touched the very essence of church-building and exploded the whole plan of National Church life. The Reformers saw the bearings of this fact, at a glance, and in order to guard the nascent system they fortified it with the sign which Rome had created, and practically threw the ‘Protest’ to the winds by punishing dissent with bloodshed throughout the continent. Out of that flow of blood sprang the eternal rights of conscience, which the Reformers claimed as their own right, and which they denied to those whose blood was shed. To them that right was a primary truth, to others unallowable. So, this was not a mere inconsistency either in logic or conduct, but a radical difference of principle between them and the Baptists. Let us examine this vital point closely.

In 1526 each German State had been left to manage its own religious affairs, as they might answer severally ‘to their own conscience.’ But it was not intended in this to recognize the right of the individual conscience in each man, but a State conscience, a nonentity, was created as a part of the Reformed system, so far seceding from a universal conscience located at Rome. Hence, at the second Diet of Spire, 1529, certain members began to feel their way back further, to a personal conscience, avowing that they could do nothing touching their salvation but what their own ‘conscience directs and teaches.’ They declared their willingness to obey the Diet in ‘all dutiful and possible things,’ but they must obey God, as they say, ‘for our conscience’ sake.’ They stated that they could not ‘hold and fulfill the imperial edict in all points’ with a ‘good conscience,’ it was ‘against our conscience’ to ‘force them under the edict in question;’ they based their dissent on the sanctity of Christian conscience, and the Diet was obliged to qualify its previous decree, and to tolerate religious differences amongst the Lutherans themselves within certain limits. Having admitted so much of the principle of soul liberty, right there the Baptist and anti-Baptist battle of the Reformation took its sternest quarters. Schenkel has caught the genius of the struggle, and says: ‘The deepest source of that protestation is, the newly awakened consciousness of the eternal rights of conscience. . . . Protestantism is, therefore, a great deed of conscience. . . . In whatever confession or church institution this freedom is not recognized, that is anti-Protestant.’ But the famous Protest of Spire was defective, in that it attempted to make provision against what it considered the defects of conscience from ignorance and a wrong bent. It assumed what is true, namely, that personal conscience is no more infallible than the judgment or will; but it also assumed what is not true, namely, that the State conscience is more reliable, although its existence is a mere myth. Yet, for the relief of some parties who composed the Diet, it said that it would seek ‘the honor of Almighty God, of his holy word, and the salvation of our individual souls,’ by the dictates of conscience. Had it taken one step more the battle between it and the Baptists had been ended. It failed to lay down the doctrine that every Christian should be allowed to govern his own conscience by the absolute dictation of Scripture, under the divine right of its private interpretation; that the Christian conscience could not otherwise be free, and that conscience itself, as well as faith and life, should be left to the teaching of the Scriptures. This was the firm Baptist ground: that God demands the vital submission of the conscience itself to his infallible word, and that every disciple should be left free to follow that, as endowing him with a ‘good conscience toward God.’ The Baptists located the responsibility of conscience, as well as the exercise of intelligence, at the tribunal of inspired truth, as the last court of appeal in all soul life. The Reformers could not be made to see that point at all, but drifted further and further away from it, until as Hase says, ‘The Protestant Church appears only like a purified form of Catholicism. In various ways it practically represented itself as infallible, and even expressly claimed that there was no salvation out of itself.’ [Hist. Ch., pp. 43-8]

This blunder concerning the radical rule of faith led the Reformers into all sorts of absurdities, as the attempt to embody a whole nation in a church, in disregard of age or moral character, and it explains the principle on which they persecuted all whose consciences differed from their own. Their plea was, that all heresy is ruinous and must be crushed out, and that all consciences but ours are heretical. Looking at the Reformation from this point, Luther lamented that it was a failure. He wrote: ‘Our evangelicals are seven times worse than they were before. For since we have learned the Gospel we steal, tell lies, deceive, gormandize [gluttony], tipple and commit all kinds of vice.’ Of course, it followed that he must set this to rights at the cost of any suffering to the wrong-doer, in ‘all good conscience,’ after the example of Saul, and he mistook his own imperiousness as zeal for God, for he confined not his interference to overt and immoral acts. This is his avowed claim: ‘Whoever teaches differently from what I have taught, or whoever condemns, he condemns God and must remain a child of hell. . . . I will not have my doctrine judged by any one, not even by angels.’ [Sämmtliche Werke, pp. 28,144,346] This Lange confirms when he avows: ‘Luther’s imperious nature would allow no one else to have his own way.’ He seemed at first to take the ground that the Scriptures were imperial, but fell back upon persecuting the consciences that yielded absolute submission to them. He granted that conscience is the eye of the soul, and there stopped; but the Baptists added, the Bible gives it light, and the conscience cannot be free unless guided by a free Bible. A free conscience governed by a free Bible forms the regnant, double franchise of God’s sons.

Cardinal Hosius said truly that Luther did not intend to make all Christians as free as himself; thus, when they rejected his authority over their consciences, he treated them as the pope treated him; so Luther became a persecutor by slow degrees. He wrote to Spalatin, in 1522, concerning the Baptists: ‘I would not have any who hold with us imprison them.’ [Hast, p. 55] In 1528 he also said: ‘I am very sorry they treat the Anabaptists go cruelly, seeing it is only on account of belief, and not because of the transgression of the laws. A man ought to be allowed to believe as he pleases. We must oppose them with the Scriptures. With fire little can be accomplished.’ [Hosek, Life of Hubmeyer, p. 43] And still he sanctioned the decree of the Elector of Saxony, the same year, forbidding any but the regular ministers to preach or baptize, under penalty of imprisonment. [Hast, p. 157] Charles V issued the terrible edict of Spire in 1529, commanding the whole empire to a crusade against the Baptists. He ordered that: ‘All Anabaptists, male or female, of mature age, shall be put to death, by fire, or sword, or otherwise, according to the person, without preceding trial. They who recant may be pardoned, provided they do not leave the country. All who neglect infant baptism will be treated as Anabaptists.’ This was worse than any thing in mediaeval persecution, for at least the form of a trial had been observed; but the Protestant princes who assented to this edict left no way of escape, ‘The design’ being, as Keller says, ‘to hunt the Baptists with no more feeling than would be shown to wild beasts.’ [Die Reformation, p. 448] The Peasants’ War had only just closed when this ferocious edict was issued, yet it gives no hint that the Baptists were charged with sedition. The decree of 1529 was renewed in 1551, with this explanation: ‘Although the obstinate Anabaptists are thrown into prison and treated with severity, nevertheless they persist in their damnable doctrine, from which they cannot be turned by any amount of instruction.’ [Ottius, Anab., p. 113] If the remedy lay in ‘severity’ they ought to have been cured effectually, for everywhere they were treated much after the manner of serpents. A letter from a priest to his friend in Strasburg says: ‘My gracious lord went hunting last Sunday, and in the forest near Epsig he caught twenty-five wild beasts. There were three hundred of them gathered together.’[Rohrich, Anab. in Strasburg, p. 112]

Wigandus breathes the same spirit when he asks: ‘Do you patiently protect such terrible enemies of holy baptism? Where is your zeal for the house of God? Where such people as Jews and Anabaptists are tolerated there is neither grace nor blessing.’ [Hast, p. 157] Luther, Zwingli and Melancthon uttered the severest things possible against them, without once stopping to show that their faith was contrary to the teaching of Jesus. Leonard Kayser had been a learned and eminent Catholic priest in Bavaria. He became a Lutheran, was intimate with Luther and the Wittenberg doctors, but soon saw that the principles of the Reformation properly applied must lead him into the Baptist ranks. In less than two years after following his convictions, he was committed to the flames near Passau. When taken to the fire in a cart, he held up a flower, saying: ‘My lord, if you can burn me and this flower I am rightly condemned; if not, reflect on what you have done and repent.’ They piled on more fagots than usual, to burn him quickly. When the wood was consumed only his hair was burnt, and the flower was left unhurt in his hand. In giving an account of his martyrdom, Luther himself says that a larger fire being made, his head, hands and feet were burnt off, but the body was unconsumed. Braght tells us that the body was cut to pieces and thrown into the river Inn. Luther described the martyrdom of his old friend as wonderfully ecstatic and steadfast, yet he said of other Baptists that it was ‘all of the Devil,’ with whose councils he seems to have been uncommonly intimate. ‘Holy martyrs,’ he said, ‘such as our Leonard Kayser, die with humility and meekness toward their enemies, but these go to their death strengthening themselves in their obstinacy.’ Cornelius informs us that Kayser was an elder of the ‘Anabaptist’ Church in Scherding.

Zwingli shared Luther’s views in the persecution of the Baptists. In his book against them he denounces them as ‘bitter,’ ‘full of anger,’ ‘hypocrisy and slander,’ and ‘ought of all godly men to be suspected and hated.’ He charges them with crying out against ‘witnesses in baptism ‘ (godfathers and godmothers), ‘saying that the Scripture doth nowhere appoint them.’ Zwingli, said they not that truly? do the Scriptures anywhere appoint them? Was he free from bitterness and anger when he and the magistrates convulsed the whole land with fire and sword, to enforce the senseless usage of godfathers and godmothers? Or did he think a few bundles of Swiss pine-knots threw the strongest possible light upon the words: ‘Love thy neighbor as thyself?’ Few of the Reformers possessed as many lovable traits of character as the Swiss Reformer, yet he could allow himself to say of these men who had never harmed him: ‘Most of them find it easy to withhold from the joys of the world, for they belong to the dregs of society. . . . But now out of their baseness they make a nobility to suit themselves,’--an unintentional tribute to their godly genius.

Melancthon was, possibly, the most lamb-like spirit amongst the Reformers. Both Luther and Zwingli were excessively arbitrary and imperious, failing of that higher manhood which can brook contradiction with inquiring meekness. Their opinions differed on the Supper, and Zwingli said that ‘Luther was not possessed by one pure spirit, but by a legion of devils.’ When attempts were made to promote mutual good feeling between them, notwithstanding their differences, Luther replied: ‘No, no; cursed be such alliance, which would endanger the cause of God and men’s souls. Begone! You are possessed by another spirit than ours. . . . The Zwinglians are a set of diabolical fanatics, they have a legion of devils in their hearts, and are wholly in their power.’ But who would expect Melancthon to belch out such rage as this against any human being? Yet even gentle Philip allowed himself to say: ‘One Anabaptist is better than another, as much as one devil is better than another.’ [Erasmi Ep. ad Cochlaeum] ‘It is the devil that makes them callous to death.’ [Gosch. d. Weidert, Keller, p. 13] In his letters to Myconius, 1530-31, he tells him that at the beginning of this movement he was ‘foolishly merciful,’ but now be looked upon them as a diabolical sect, not to be tolerated. [Corp. Ref., ii, pp. 17,18,549]

‘Mild Melancthon’ differed from other persecutors only in the deliberate manner in which he defended the slaughter of God’s elect. The pope called their crime ‘heresy,’ he called it ‘blasphemy,’ but the victims knew only death, dealt out to them as to vipers. His mildness of manner made the pious homicide the more cruel, and he must have blushed when the three simple-hearted Baptists confronted him at Jena. He had fled thither from the pest, 1535, when a commission was examining certain poor imprisoned Baptist peasants, and the Council invited him to act with them. The Münster disgrace was at an end, and he asked the peasants whether they were there. They replied that they had never been at Münster, and that their consciences could not approve of sedition. When he examined them on the doctrine of the Trinity they answered that, not being learned, they could say little of that high article of faith. He demanded, Why they preached in secret? They replied: ‘The divine word is relentlessly persecuted, we are not allowed to preach publicly, and now, we are forbidden not only to be hearers, but doers of the word.’ As to the community of goods, they thought it their duty to share their property with their poor brethren who were suffering. They also denied the lawfulness of oaths and of infant baptism. [Goebel, i, p. 166] He reports, with a flavor of disgust, in his own narrative, that they said:

‘Baptism of infants was not enjoined, and that all children are saved. whether of Christians, heathens or Turks. God was not such a God as would damn a little child for the sake of a drop of water, for all his creatures were good. And they denied original sin in children, for such have never covenanted to it; but when a man grows up and consents to sin, then, for the first time, original sin has power.’

He asked them of obedience to civil magistrates. They said that they needed none, they cleaved to God alone, but they did not condemn civil government for the world. If the magistrates would let them alone in their faith, they would cheerfully pay taxes and do as they were bidden. They were examined concerning the Supper, and said they did ‘not believe in a Lord God made of bread.’ Hase says that Melancthon found these unlettered peasants orthodox on the Trinity and the incarnation, but a little unsound on original sin. [Neue Propheten, p. 178] Still, they denied infant baptism, and that was enough; so, on the 27th of January, 1536, they sealed their faith with their blood. Melancthon wrote what he thought a full refutation of their doctrines for John the Elector, but his real reply to the innocent peasants was the unanswerable anti-Baptist logic of ax and flame. Jobst Moller, the chief speaker of these helpless villagers, was purely illiterate, and yet he held his own against Melancthon with great strength. ‘Since that time,’ says Beard, ‘the world has thrashed out many of the questions which were in dispute between Jobst Moller and the first scholar of Germany; and the result is not in all respects what the theologians of Wittenberg would have expected.’ [Lects., p. 198]

In what bold contrast the immortal words of John Denk stand to all this: ‘There are certain brethren who think they have completely fathomed the Gospel, and whoever does not assent to their dictum must be a heretic above all heretics. If an account of faith is given, they call it sowing seeds of division and dissension among the people. If reproaches are passed by unnoticed, they say it shows fear of the light.’ In his treatise on the ‘Law of God,’ published in 1526, a year before his death, are these words from this profoundly serene spirit:

‘Love forgets itself, and the possessor of it minds no injury which he receives for the sake of the object of his love. The less love is recognized, the more it is pained, and yet it does not cease. Pure love stretches out to all, and seeks to be at one with all. But even if men and all things are withdrawn from her, she is so deep and rich she can get along without them, and would willingly perish herself if she could thereby make others happy. This love is God, who has made all things, but cannot make himself; who will break all things, but cannot break himself. Love cannot be understood except in Christ.’

Casper Schwenkfeld was far from being a Baptist, but he knew and loved Denk, and writes: ‘The Anabaptists are all the dearer to me, that they care about divine truth somewhat more than many of the learned ones.’ Then he candidly states what he understood the Baptists to believe thus: ‘The Old Covenant was a slavery, in so far as God, on account of man’s perversity, constrained them to serve him. Hence, the sign of the covenant, circumcision, was put upon them before they desired it. They received the sign whether they were willing or not. But baptism, the sign of the New Covenant, is given only to those who, being brought by the power of God, through the knowledge of true love, desire it, and consent to follow true love. Unless love forces them they should not be compelled.’

Melancthon fell into the mistake of all history, in compelling infant baptism. It was all right with him that the Council of Nice ordered the rebaptism of Novatians, whether they desired it or not; but when the Baptists baptized a man on his own request, because of his love to Christ, he became at once the worst of all men and must welter in his own blood for his crime.

Voltaire, the atheist, had the common sense to say that the Baptists ‘laid open that dangerous truth, which is implanted in every breast, that mankind are all born equal.’ [Gen. Hist.] And Beard says that their sins can be easily counted: ‘They did not baptize their children; they thought it sinful to take an oath; they refused military service.’ The Anglican Gregory’s sum of their tenets is this: ‘Baptism ought to be administered only to persons grown up to years of understanding, and should be performed, not by sprinkling them with water, but by dipping them in it.’ [Hist. Chn. Ch., ii, p. 430] Hozek, the Catholic, gives this summary: ‘The Church was to be a perfect Christian people, living without reproach, observing the Gospel faithfully, possessing and governed by the Spirit of God.’ Heppe, the Calvinist, gives this analysis of their doctrines: ‘1. Against all external churchism. 2. Against infant baptism. 3. Against any view of justification that does not involve sanctification, by the direct and essential indwelling of the Holy Spirit in the human heart.’ [Hist. of Prot., i, p. 71] Hast, the critic, who resided at Munster, says that:

‘To realize regeneration among men was the Anabaptist aim, and if they failed, the noble and exalted thought that animated them, and for which they strove, must not be deprecated. They have deserved in this particular the respect of an unprejudiced later age, before a thousand others; and they seem in the choice of means to attain this end, to have been generally equally worthy of respect. It is not so much the advocacy of the doctrine of regeneration that is so noticeable and characteristic of them, but the fact that they held on so hard for its realization. They stood in their consciousness much higher than the world about them, and, therefore, were not comprehended by it.’ [Hast, p. 114]

Whatever follies a few of them fell into, their high purpose and advanced thought put them as a people in the van of genuine reformers, whose standard the world is aiming to reach at the close of the nineteenth century. [Hast, p. 114] Hence, today, we hear the impartial and philosophical Uhlhorn say of these German Baptists: ‘The general character of this whole movement was peaceful, in spite of the prevailing excitement. Nobody thought of carrying out the new ideas by force. In striking contrast to the Münzer uproar, meekness and sufferings were here understood as the most essential elements of the Christian ideal.’ [Art. Anabaptists, Schaff-Herzog Enc.] Thus, it came to pass, in the words of Ritschl, that ‘The decision against the Anabaptists was effected by the power of the magistrates.’ [Hist. Pietism, i, p. 36]

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A HISTORY OF THE BAPTISTS

By Thomas Armitage

1890

[Note from the publisher. This valuable out-of-print book was scanned from an original printing and carefully formatted for electronic publication by Way of Life Literature. We extend a special thanks to our friend Brian Snider for his labor of love in diligently scanning the material so that it might be available to God's people in these days. For a catalog of other books, both current and old, in print and electronic format, contact us at P.O. Box 610368, Port Huron, MI 48061-0368, [e-mail] (e-mail), http://wayoflife.org/~dcloud (web site).]

[Table of Contents for "A History of the Baptists" by Thomas Armitage]

THE ERA OF THE REFORMATION

BAPTISTS IN THE NETHERLANDS

Recent investigators, and especially Keller, have clearly shown that the principles of the Waldensians spread very early in Bohemia and influenced the Reformation under Huss, giving rise at last to the Bohemian Brethren. Tradition says that Waldo himself went thither, and that his followers abounded in Austria on the Bohemian border. It is equally clear that, as early as 1182, the views of Waldo had found their way into Holland, and when persecution raged against the Waldensians in Southern Europe, many of them found refuge in the Netherlands, so that by 1233 Flanders was full of them. Many of these were weavers (Tisserands), and the first Baptists found in Holland were of that trade. So numerous were they that Ten Kate says, All the weaving was in the hands of ‘Anabaptists.’ Van Braght records the martyrdom of hundreds of these refugees, who were known by different nicknames, and were living quietly in the Netherlands, long before Luther was born. Limborch describes them as ‘men of simple life and judgment,’ and thinks that if ‘their dogmas and institutions are examined without prejudice, it must be said that of all Christian sects which exist to-day no one more nearly agrees with them than that called the Mennonite.’ Ypeig and Dermout are of the same opinion. They say: ‘The Waldensians scattered in the Netherlands might be called their salt, so correct were their views and devout their lives. The Mennonites sprang from them. It is indubitable that they rejected infant baptism, and used only adult baptism.’ [History of the Dutch Baptists, i, pp. 57,141]

Further they say that their principal articles of faith were: The sole authority of the Scriptures; the headship of Christ; the rejection of Church authority; the accounting of the pope as a layman; confession to a priest as useless, as God alone can pardon sin; salvation only by Christ; good works in obedience to God, and confirmation of faith; no adoration of saints; and the observance of Baptism and the Lord’s Supper.

He declares that they cultivated religion of the heart, and regulated their lives by our saviour’s teachings, that they condemned the bearing of arms and self-defense against unrighteous power, and were known as the people who say ‘Yea and Nay.’ This is added:

‘From this historical account of the ancient Waldenses of the Netherlands, as they were in the twelfth century, and of their doctrine as it then was and continued to be in the succeeding centuries, it can be seen how, in every respect, the ancient and modern Baptists of the Netherlands, whose condition and doctrine are generally known, resembled them. Yet we must notice, as an exception to this, the characteristic article of faith respecting baptism. In none of the Confessions of Faith of the Waldenses, it is true, is the article found, and yet it is certain that the Netherlands Waldenses always rejected infant baptism, and administered the ordinance only to adults. We may find this positively asserted respecting the Netherlands Waldenses by Hieronymus Verdussen, by the Abbott at Clugny, and other Romanist writers. Hence it is that they are better known in this country by the name of Anabaptists than by that of Waldenses.

‘It can easily be seen by a reference to their opinions respecting baptism how natural it was that, when in the sixteenth century some Anabaptists joined the seditious rabble, this evil was laid upon all Anabaptists, and all who afterwards preferred to be called Baptists, were branded by their enemies with the same hated name. . . . They would, without doubt, quietly have done much good had they not made their doctrine respecting the baptism of adults too prominent. In this respect their religions zeal was not united with wisdom. They did not hesitate openly to entice many from the Romish Church to their community, and upon their initiation to rebaptize them. This greatly excited the anger of the people and the disapprobation of the government, which strictly forbade the practice. Before the name of Luther as a Reformer was known, it appears that the Anabaptists in this land carried on the work of Reformation originally undertaken by others, and drew many from the Church of Rome to them, and rebaptized them. . . . In the sight of the authorities they lived as peaceful citizens, obedient and noted for their upright honesty, conscientiousness, temperance and godliness. The earlier Roman writers who are willing to pay a proper respect to the truth admit this to have been the fact. From this narration it is not difficult to understand how greatly the Waldenses of the Netherlands, or so-called Anabaptists, were pleased when Luther and his followers so zealously commenced the Reformation. They immediately made known their approbation, they glorified God, who in their time had raised up brethren with whom they could so well unite; at least in the main points. Yet they adhered firmly to their own peculiar views, especially respecting the baptism of adults.’ [Ypeig and Dermout, History of the Dutch Baptists]

These writers then go on to show that there was amongst them a mystical and fanatical element, known as the ‘perfect;’ then there were the ‘imperfect’ who adorned their pure faith by a praiseworthy mode of life.

‘These were, indeed, ornaments of the Christian Church, who, is lights placed upon a hill, sent forth a wide illumination in the midst of the surrounding darkness. Persons of both classes were scattered through Germany, Switzerland, the Netherlands, etc. Was it indeed surprising that the folly of many of the so-called perfect should, at the time of the Reformation, have affected the whole? This will appear the less astonishing if it be remembered that among the Lutherans and the Zwinglians might be found fanatical errorists who were learned instructors of the people. . . . By far the greater part of the Anabaptists of the first class, and absolutely all of the second sort, were the most pious Christians that the Church ever had, and the most valuable citizens of the State. These worthy Anabaptists, or, as they may more properly be called, Baptists, were to be found in great numbers in the Netherlands, in Friesland, Groningen and Flanders. In the provinces that we have not mentioned their ancestors, the Waldenses, were settled, as we have said, in the twelfth century.’ [Ypeig and Dermout, History of the Dutch Baptists]

After giving a full account of their extensive internal influence upon all the Protestant Christians in the Netherlands, these authors add: ‘Although there were among the Baptists few learned men; yet they were zealous students of the doctrines of the Christian religion, willingly reading moral, practical writings, but with greater eagerness studying the Bible and inciting each other to diligence in the understanding of this precious volume. What a beneficial influence this must have had on the other Protestants, both as regards a virtuous course of life and an inquiry into the truth of the faith. Even among the Protestant teachers, who, in other respects, were wholly Lutheran, there were found many who openly stated that, on account of the above-mentioned facts, they held the Baptists in the highest estimation and loved them as brothers.’ Amongst these they mention the renewed John Anastatius: A ‘very sensible, sedate, noble, thinking, upright Lutheran, who considered the Baptist brethren to be in error in some doctrinal points, but elevated above the other Protestants on account of their peace-loving disposition, strength of faith and godliness of life. This appears from a work which he wrote at Strasburg in 1550, in the Lower Rhine dialect, or Gelder language, entitled The Guide of the Laity.’ [Ypeig and Dermout, History of the Dutch Baptists, i, App., p. 50]

Here we see why the Baptists went by the name of ‘Anabaptists’ rather than by that of Waldensians. At the appearance of Luther they came out of their obscurity and hiding-places, and undertook to scatter the light of a more certain Gospel; and to break the power of Romish superstitions. Their zeal in pushing their doctrine of adult baptism aroused the opposition of government, which issued the sternest edicts against them. Nevertheless, they baptized many Catholics before Luther was heard of. The first question of Inquisitors was: ‘Have you been re-baptized?’ so widespread was this practice.

In the Reformation, according to De Hoop Scheffer, quite as many of the Waldensians in Holland identified themselves with the Baptists as with the Lutherans or Zwinglians, and those who fled from persecution in Germany proper and Switzerland made many converts. In 1523 a book appeared in Holland, without the name of the author, entitled The Sum of the Holy Scriptures. It was soon translated into English, French and Italian, and so many editions were sold that it aided largely in spreading Baptist views throughout Europe. It has recently been reprinted. On baptism it says:

‘So are we dipped under as a sign that we are, as it were, dead and buried, as Paul writes, Rom. 6 and Col. 2. The life of man is a battle upon earth, and in baptism we promise to strive like men. The pledge is given when we are plunged under the water. It is the same to God whether you are eighty years old when you are baptized; or twenty; for God does not consider how old you are, but with what purpose you receive baptism. He does not mind whether you are Jew or heathen, man or woman, nobleman or citizen, bishop or layman, but only he who, with perfect faith and confidence, comes to God, and struggles for eternal life, attains it as God has promised in the Gospel.’