thousands upon thousands of lights as the great current of
electricity was turned slowly on; and then to see the lights grow
in strength until the entire grounds were bathed in suffused
radiance,--that was as wonderful a sight as the world of
electricity has yet witnessed, and it was well worth crossing an
ocean to see; it was the one conspicuous success, the one
memorable feature of the Exposition, and compared with it all
exhibits and scenes by day were tame and insipid.

From time immemorial it has been the special province of the
preacher to take the children to the circus and the side show; for
the children must go, and who so fit to take them as the preacher?
After all, is not the sawdust ring with its strange people, its
giants, fairies, hobgoblins, and clowns, a fairy land, not really
real, and therefore no more wicked than fairy land? Do they not
fly by night? are they not children of space? the enormous tents
spring up like mushrooms, to last a day; for a few short hours
there is a medley of strange sounds,--a blare of trumpets, the
roar of strange beasts, the ring of strange voices, the crackling
of whips; there are prancing steeds and figures in costumes
curious,--then, flapping of canvas, creaking of poles, and all is
silent. Of course it is not real, and every one may go. The circus
has no annals, knows no gossip, presents no problems; it is
without morals and therefore not immoral. It is the one joyous
amusement that is not above, but quite outside the pale of
criticism and discussion. Therefore, why should not the preacher
go and take the children?

But the Midway. Ah! the Midway, that is quite a different matter;
but still the preacher goes,--leaving the children at home.