The religion of Christ is simpler than all philoso-
phy, and yet a problem so deep that, in this broad
noonday of the world, human reason can not solve it,
yet rarely dares reject it, for fear of that sword of



Poetry and Prose of iMaric R. Butler. j^j



vengeance which, but vaguely visible to the conscious
eyes of men, always hangs suspended by God's prov-
idence, ready to fall on an apostate people or an apos-
tate Church.
To those who read the pages of the world's history
side by side with the revelations of God, the whole
story of mankind from Eden to Mount Sinai, from
Canaan to the Cross, all down the torpid centuries
until now, are but a sermon on the text, "The world
by wisdom knew not God." Egypt, Greece, and
Rome, and China with her thirty centuries of civ-
ilization, borne not as a light ahead, but as a burden
in the rear of the march of nations, all proclaim
it true.
But lest the bewildered eyes of men should fail to
read aright so vast a page, it would seem as if Divine
Providence had massed the elements of human wis-
dom and folly to epitomize this truth in the tragic
burlesque of a day. The stage was France. Long
years of political and religious corruption had pre-
pared an applauding audience, and in i793 and 1794
was enacted the most grotesque tragedy that the
world ever saw.
If we desire to measure the heights and depths
of human depravity, we may sink our plummet
here, where wickedness became frenzy and infidelity
became enthusiasm, and where even the master-
minds of the French Revolution, from the heights of



j/(5 Poetry and Prose of Alarie R. Butler.
