Chapter 6

They Discourse Of The Gods Of Mardi, And Braid-Beard Tells Of One Foni

Walking from the sacred inclosure, Mohi discoursed of the plurality of
gods in the land, a subject suggested by the multitudinous idols we
had just been beholding.

Said Mohi, "These gods of wood and of stone are nothing in number to
the gods in the air. You breathe not a breath without inhaling, you
touch not a leaf without ruffling a spirit. There are gods of heaven,
and gods of earth; gods of sea and of land; gods of peace and of war;
gods of rook and of fell; gods of ghosts and of thieves; of singers
and dancers; of lean men and of house-thatchers. Gods glance in the
eyes of birds, and sparkle in the crests of the waves; gods merrily
swing in the boughs of the trees, and merrily sing in the brook. Gods
are here, and there, and every where; you are never alone for them."

"If this be so, Braid-Beard," said Babbalanja, "our inmost thoughts
are overheard; but not by eaves-droppers. However, my lord, these gods
to whom he alludes, merely belong to the semi-intelligibles, the
divided unities in unity, thin side of the First Adyta."

"Indeed?" said Media.

"Semi-intelligible, say you, philosopher?" cried Mohi. "Then, prithee,
make it appear so; for what you say, seems gibberish to me."

"Babbalanja," said Media, "no more of your abstrusities; what know you
mortals of us gods and demi-gods? But tell me, Mohi, how many of your
deities of rock and fen think you there are? Have you no statistical
table?"

"My lord, at the lowest computation, there must be at least three
billion trillion of quintillions."

"A mere unit!" said Babbalanja. "Old man, would you express an
infinite number? Then take the sum of the follies of Mardi for your
multiplicand; and for your multiplier, the totality of sublunarians,
that never have been heard of since they became no more; and the
product shall exceed your quintillions, even though all their units
were nonillions."

"Have done, Babbalanja!" cried Media; "you are showing the sinister
vein in your marble. Have done. Take a warm bath, and make tepid your
cold blood. But come, Mohi, tell us of the ways of this Maramma;
something of the Morai and its idols, if you please."

And straightway Braid-Beard proceeded with a narration, in substance
as follows:--

It seems, there was a particular family upon the island, whose
members, for many generations, had been set apart as sacrifices for
the deity called Doleema. They were marked by a sad and melancholy
aspect, and a certain involuntary shrinking, when passing the Morai.
And, though,