uestions every thing," cried Mohi. "Philosopher, have you a head?"

"I have," said Babbalanja, feeling for it; "I am finished off at the
helm very much as other Mardians, Mohi."

"My lord, the first yea that ever came from him."

"Ah, Mohi," said Media, "the discourse waxes heavy. I fear me we have
again come to the lees. Ho, Vee-Vee, a fresh calabash; and with
it we will change the subject. Now, Babbalanja, I have this cup to
drink, and then a question to propound. Ah, Mohi, rare old wine this;
it smacks of the cork. But attention, Philosopher. Supposing you had a
wife--which, by the way, you have not--would you deem it sensible in
her to imagine you no more, because you happened to stroll out of her
sight?"

"However that might be," murmured Yoomy, "young Nina bewailed herself
a widow, whenever Arhinoo, her lord, was absent from her side."

"My lord Media," said Babbalanja, "During my absence, my wife would
have more reason to conclude that I was not living, than that I was.
To the former supposition, every thing tangible around her would tend;
to the latter, nothing but her own fond fancies. It is this
imagination of ours, my lord, that is at the bottom of these things.
When I am in one place, there exists no other. Yet am I but too apt to
fancy the reverse. Nevertheless, when I am in Odo, talk not to me of
Ohonoo. To me it is not, except when I am there. If it be, prove it.
To prove it, you carry me thither but you only prove, that to its
substantive existence, as cognizant to me, my presence is
indispensable. I say that, to me, all Mardi exists by virtue of my
sovereign pleasure; and when I die, the universe will perish with me."

"Come you of a long-lived race," said Mohi, "one free from apoplexies?
I have many little things to accomplish yet, and would not be left in
the lurch."

"Heed him not, Babbalanja," said Media. "Dip your beak again, my
eagle, and soar."

"Let us be eagles, then, indeed, my lord: eagle-like, let us look at
this red wine without blinking; let us grow solemn, not boisterous,
with good cheer."

Then, lifting his cup, "My lord, serenely do I pity all who are
stirred one jot from their centers by ever so much drinking of this
fluid. Ply him hard as you will, through the live-long polar
night, a wise man can not be made drunk. Though, toward sunrise, his
body may reel, it will reel round its center; and though he make many
tacks in going home, he reaches it at last; while scores of ov