" The tinted lights falling on the group are
shed, you see, from the rainbow-coloured lamps of Sais, which are
countless. But in spite of all these lamps, Mr. Aylwin, no mortal can
see the face behind that veil. And why? Those who alone could uplift
it, the figures with folded wings--Faith and Love--are fast asleep at
the great Queen's feet. When Faith and Love are sleeping there, what
are the many-coloured lamps of science?--of what use are they to the
famished soul of man?'
'A striking idea!' I exclaimed.
'Your father's,' replied Wilderspin, in a tone of such reverence that
one might have imagined my father's spectre stood before him. 'It
symbolises that base Darwinian cosmogony which Carlyle spits at, and
the great and good John Ruskin scorns. But this design is only the
predella beneath the picture "Faith and Love." Now look at the
picture itself, Mr. Aylwin,' he continued, as though it were upon an
easel before me. 'You are at Sais no longer: you are now, as the
architecture around you shows, in a Greek city by the sea. In the
light of innumerable lamps, torches, and wax tapers, a procession is
moving through the streets.
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