Blue-grass blade., 1907-06-09
(By Henry Frank.)

In a series OF articles written by
Henry Frank and published in To-
morrow, the author portrays his tran
sition from blind faith to right rea-
son and in showing the point at which
the final change came, says:
The struggle with my conscience
was becoming intense. | was being
forced to ask myself whether | was
paying with my own soul and if the
time must not inevitably come when
| would throw the dice and cross the
Rubicon.
More and more | heard the doctrines
which | had caused myself to believe
as the truth scoffed at and slyly mock
ed among the Very men who in pub
lie so grandiliquently stood as their
| sponsors and proud defenders. At
last after ardently studying Browne
on the atonement'' which purported
to be a reasonable and incontrovert-
BILE defense OF the traditional doctrine.
dressed, however, in modern habila-
ments, | made bold to write out my
own Interpretation, which was the
conflict with his, and yet which | be-
lieved was a logical confutation be-
cause founded on the very premises
which he himself set forth.
1t was a beautiful autumn day in
Minnesota. Three of us were drift
Ing bolt or enc OF Minnesota $ dol 70
far Meme lakes. One was a young
man who has since benn recognized as
one of the most successful pulpit
orators and platform lecturers in the
Methodist Church and who in those
days was one of my particular chums.
| The other possessed of a more prac-
teal mind, has since been given
the opportunity to develop his COM
mercial instinct under the guise of a
minister by being made one of the
agents of the Methodist Book Con-
Germ, a very responsible position in
this great church.
When the poise of our spirits had
come to reflect the sweet calmness of
the deep blue sky above and the
placid grey-green waters beneath, and
we were in such mental mood as to
be recipient of intellectual food and
susceptible to discussion, slyly drew
| from my breast-pocket the little man.
uscript | had written in criticism of
the "Atonement," and with permission
slowly read it to them.
Ardently they listened, with minds
critically inclined. Occasionally they
would look at each other and express
either approval or surprise. But what
ever their feelings. they respected
mine and clearly saw that l was sim
cere and earnest That. indeed I had
made it clear to them that the paper
was a personal document and confess
ed the burden of my heart no less
than the thoughts of my brain, was
soon made evident. At last finished.
A dead silence settled ON us all
! was CiiiDdii uSotu' Wdhtcu HOhCot
criticism. | heard what might mean
either disdain or laudation.
Finally my nearest chum, with
whom in college | had often engaged
in mental wrestling matches and who
has since developed into the most
popular rhetorician in the church,
ventured an opinion. But it was not
criticism. 1t was Indifferent per-
sinage. why on earth, Frank, do
you want to waste your time resur-
recting the dead past and trying to
reconstruct it in line with the living
present? The "Atonement' isn't meant
in these days to demand our reason
ing powers but our powers of imagi-
nation. There is no conception in the
history of man that can be made as
to excite the lachrymal glands of the
crowd as the picture of Jesus on the
Cross. Dwell on that and not on the
theology of the Atonement, and you'll
carry the audience with you every
time"
But" | said, brother, you don't
mean to insist that religion is all
feeling and that reason and thought
have no serious place in it?"
NO, of course not. But you must
| laarn tha art of tha samh1anna NJ