Said Media: “I have heard much of the famed image of Mujo, the Nursing Mother;—can you point it out, Braid-Beard?” “My lord, when last here, I saw Mujo at the head of this file; but they must have removed it; I see it not now.” “Do these attendants, then,” said Babbalanja, “so continually new-marshal the idols, that visiting the gallery to-day, you are at a loss to-morrow?” “Even so,” said Braid-Beard. “But behold, my lord, this image is Mujo.” We stood before an obelisk-idol, so towering, that gazing at it, we were fain to throw back our heads. According to Mohi, winding stairs led up through its legs; its abdomen a cellar, thick-stored with gourds of old wine; its head, a hollow dome; in rude alto-relievo, its scores of hillock-breasts were carved over with legions of baby deities, frog-like sprawling; while, within, were secreted whole litters of infant idols, there placed, to imbibe divinity from the knots of the wood. As we stood, a strange subterranean sound was heard, mingled with a gurgling as of wine being poured. Looking up, we beheld, through arrow-slits and port-holes, three masks, cross-legged seated in the abdomen, and holding stout wassail. But instantly upon descrying us, they vanished deeper into the interior; and presently was heard a sepulchral chant, and many groans and grievous tribulations. Passing on, we came to an image, with a long anaconda-like posterior development, wound round and round its own neck. “This must be Oloo, the god of Suicides,” said Babbalanja. “Yes,” said Mohi, “you perceive, my lord, how he lays violent tail upon himself.” At length, the attendants having, in due order, new-deposed the long lines of sphinxes and griffins, and many limbed images, a band of them, in long flowing robes, began their morning chant. “Awake Rarni! awake Foloona! Awake unnumbered deities!” With many similar invocations, to which the images made not the slightest rejoinder. Not discouraged, however, the attendants now separately proceeded to offer up petitions on behalf of various tribes, retaining them for that purpose. One prayed for abundance of rain, that the yams of Valapee might not wilt in the ground; another for dry sunshine, as most favorable for the present state of the Bread-fruit crop in Mondoldo. Hearing all this, Babbalanja thus spoke:—“Doubtless, my lord Media, besides these petitions we hear, there are ten thousand contradictory prayers ascending to these idols. But methinks the gods will not jar the eternal progression of things, by any hints from below; even were it possible to satisfy conflicting desires.” Said Yoomy, “But I would pray, nevertheless, Babbalanja; for prayer draws us near to our own souls, and purifies our thoughts. Nor will I grant that our supplications are altogether in vain.” Still wandering among the images, Mohi had much to say, concerning their respective claims to the reverence of the devout.