"Our little systems have their day;
They have their day and cease to be,
They are but broken lights of Thee;
And Thou, O Lord, art more than they."
It early became evident that the Columbian Exposition was to be the most comprehensive and brilliant display of man's material progress which the ages have known. More than fifty nations were soon actively enlisted in the preparations for the great Festival of Peace.
Its approach caused a stir in the studios of Paris and Munich, and on the pasture grounds of far-off Australia, among the Esquimaux of the icy north and the skilled artisans of Delhi and Damascus.
The workshops of Sheffield, Geneva and Moscow, and the marble quarries of Italy, the ostrich farms of Cape Colony and the mines of Brazil, speedily knew of its coming.
And should not man's intellectual and moral progress be adequately set forth amid these material splendors? Why should the ivory hunters in the forests of Africa and the ivory cutters in the thronged cities of Japan and China, the silk weavers of Lyons and the shawl makers of Cashmere, the designers of Kensington, the lace weavers of Brussels and the Indian tribes of South America, the cannon founders of Germany, the silver miners of Mexico, the ship makers of the Clyde and the canoe builders of the Mackenzie River be invited to a World's Exposition, and the representatives of those higher forces which had made civilization be excluded?
It was objected, by one representative of the Christian faith, that Religion is such in its nature that it cannot be exhibited. But surely, the answer was made, the great part which Religion has had in human history can be impressively told, its achievements can be narrated, its vast influence over art, ethics, education, government, can be set forth, its present condition can be indicated, its wide-reaching missionary activities can be eloquently described, and, perhaps, best of all, the spirit of mutual love, of cosmopolitan fraternity, can be disclosed and largely augmented.
