A Curious Change

     The Pan-American Fair was designed for instruction and amusement. Its avowed purpose was to exhibit the marvellous progress in agricultural and manufactured products that mark the century just closed. The hope was that such exhibition would open South American markets to the United States. While the Monroe doctrine shuts the governments of the Old World from the Southern continent, we must also cultivate fraternal relations with our brothers of the Southland. The Fair was to be an exhibit of thoughts in the form of things. It was to be irreligious, not anti-religious, but secular. Because South America is largely Roman Catholic, and North America is largely Protestant, the soul of civilization—Christianity, was not to be noticed. The Tent of the Evangelist was pitched outside the grounds, given the outer court. An anarchist fires two bullets, the tragedy brings the nation to its knees. “God breathed into the Fair the breath of life, and it became a living soul.” The clamour of the Midway dies down, the exhibits are forgotten, the world waits by the dying bed of a Christian Statesman. A Christian character becomes a memorial window, through it the light of the uplifted countenance shines; we forget the walls we have builded and think only of the character Christ has completed. Amusement and instruction are forgotten, Christ is remembered. “The stone that the builders rejected has become the head of the corner.” Murder has made another martyr, and the martyr witnesses anew to Christ. In a few months the buildings will be destroyed, the Fair forgotten, but through the centuries the memory of McKinley will shine with added lustre and in the brightness of that light Christ will be enthroned.