CHAPTER V.THE LONDON WALK WESTWARD.
In that nationally interesting Poem, or Dramatic Satire, once famous, THE RAJAH IN LONDON (London, Limbo and Sons, 1889), now obliterated under the long wash of Press-matter, the reflection--not unknown to philosophical observers, and natural perhaps in the mind of an Oriental Prince--produced by his observation of the march of London citizens Eastward at morn, Westward at eve, attributes their practice to a survival of the Zoroastrian form of worship.

His Minister, favourable to the people or for the sake of fostering an idea in his Master's head, remarks, that they show more than the fidelity of the sunflower to her God.

The Rajah, it would appear, frowns interrogatively, in the princely fashion, accusing him of obscureness of speech:--princes and the louder members of the grey public are fraternally instant to spurn at the whip of that which they do not immediately comprehend.

It is explained by the Minister: not even the flower, he says, would hold constant, as they, to the constantly unseen--a trebly cataphractic Invisible.

The Rajah professes curiosity to know how it is that the singular people nourish their loyalty, since they cannot attest to the continued being of the object in which they put their faith.