THE PATH OF VISION
police are directing the high-lackered traffic. Slowly from many corners and by-ways invisible, it drags its length along, a train of sumptuous equipages, multicolor, multiform:—refulgent limousines adorned with classic-faced chauffeurs; shimmering victorias drawn by high-stepping, full-blooded steeds; liveried and cockaded footmen leaping from their seats to open and close carriage doors;—a bustle of vanities, a flutter of conceits,—a dazzling array of outward splendor.
Come, my Christian Brother,—come with me to the mosque.
[156]
