The Story of My Mind

it had to my parents, to ask for any other reason for professing the Christian religion. Never in the least did I entertain even the

tized and presented to the Lord. It was the vow of my mother, if she ever had a son, to dedicate him to the service of God. As I advanced in years, the one thought constantly instilled into my mind was that I

monopolized my attention, and left me neither the leisure nor the desire for the things that make childhood joyous. At the age of eight years I was invited to lead the congregation in prayer, in church, and could recite many parts of the New Testament by heart. One of my favorite pastimes was

istry, and the Christian religion, was a painful disappointment to her. But like all loving mothers, she hopes and prays that I may return to the faith she still holds, and in which I was baptized. It is only natural that she should do so. At her age of life, beliefs have become so crystallized tha

r the ministry. Having finished college I went to the Princeton Theological Seminary, where I received instruction from such eminent theologians as Drs. A. A

ching which I had imbibed with my mother's milk, was a most painful operation. Again and again, during the period of doubt, I returned to the bosom of my early faith, just as the legendary dove, scared by the waste of wa

ression upon my mind had not certain events in my own life, which I was unable to reconcile with the be

er all his children," I believed myself to be a child of God, and counted confidently upon his special providence. But when the opportunity came for providence to show his interest in me, I was forsaken, and had to look elsewhere for help. My first di

ich I rode, the other carrying my luggage. We had not proceeded very far when we were overtaken by a young traveler on foot, who, f

hardly be said that in that part of the world it is considered unsafe to travel even with a caravan

, who had placed himself under our protection, were, I am sorry to say, much given to boasting. They would tell how, on various occasions, they had, single-handed, driven away the Kurdish brigands, who outnumbered them, ten to one; how that rusty knife had disemboweled one of th

d the river at the base of the hills, two Kurds riding in our direction. I was at once disillusioned as to the boasted bravery of my comrades, and felt that it was all braggadocio with which they had been regaling me. As I was the one suppo

rious harm to my person. I was surprised also that I, who had been brought up to pray and to trust in divine

nted. We may ask the good Lord not to burn our house, but when the house is actually on fire, water is better than prayer. Perhaps, again, I did not pray because of an instinctive feeling that this was a case of self-help or no help at all. Perhaps, again, there was a feeling in me, t

my money (all in gold coins) was in a snuff-box, and that again in a long silk purse. I was, of course, the better dressed of the three-with long boots wh

tely, saying, according to the custom of the country, "God be with you," to which I timidly returned the customary answer, "We are all in his keeping." At the time it d

and cut to pieces by these Kurds, it would be reasonable to infer that God is indifferent. Of course, the strongly-armed travelers, as a rule, escape, thanks to their own courage and firearms. For, we ask again, if the Lord can save one, why not all? And if he can save all, but will no

tume, boots, furs, cap and so on. Then I heard them making inquiries of my

cumstances permitted. Wishing us all again the protection

reached the middle of the bridge over the river, one of the Kurds galloping up close to me laid his hand on my shoulders and, unceremoniously, pulled me out of my saddle. At the sam

ings he took out the box, held it in his left hand, while with his right he kept searching in the inner folds of my long purse. While he was running his fingers through the tortuous purse, I slipped mine into his left hand, and, taking hold of the box, I emptied its conten

tians?" inquired one of t

lems, by Allah,

speak the truth unless you say,

. There was no doubt the Kurds would have killed me, but for the lie which I did not correct. When I reached my desti

I was doing them no evil, but protecting the most sacred rights of man, the Kurd's included. Here was an instance in which silence was golden. But I would not hesitate, a

es. Why did a "Heavenly Father" deliver us to the brigands? And of what help was God to us, if, in real peril, we had to reso

eturn, had related my adventure with the Kurds. Without paying the least thought to the fact that we had to lie to

seemed impossible to abandon them. Ten thousand obstacles blocked my way, and as many voices seemed to caution me against sailing forth upon an unknown sea. In a modest way, I was like Columbus, separated from the new world I was

ised in the name of the Holy Trinity, and set apart for the Christian ministry,-I have become a Rationalist. The meaning of both these words, Calvinist and Rationalist, will, I hope, become clear to all the readers of this book. The difference between the Calvinist and the Rationalist is not that the one uses his reason, while the other does not. Both use their reason. It is by using his reason that the Ca

n self-help. Just as the eyes must have light before they can see, Reason must have knowledge before it can reason truly. But it is

we do not wish to see, we will not see even with our eyes open. There are many educated

rs what we see: My object for telling the story of my mind-how it pa