alone; it comes not by the auditory nerves."

"No more, Azzageddi! No more of that. Look yonder!"

"A most lovely wood, in truth. And methinks it is here the sage
Doxodox, surnamed the Wise One, dwells."

"Hark, I hear the hootings of his owls," said Mohi.

"My lord, you must have read of him. He is said to have penetrated
from the zoned, to the unzoned principles. Shall we seek him out, that
we may hearken to his wisdom? Doubtless he knows many things, after
which we pant."

The lagoon was calm, as we landed; not a breath stirred the plumes of
the trees; and as we entered the voiceless shades, lifting his hand,
Babbalanja whispered:--"This silence is a fit introduction to the
portals of Telestic lore. Somewhere, beneath this moss, lurks
the mystic stone Mnizuris; whereby Doxodox hath attained unto a
knowledge of the ungenerated essences. Nightly, he bathes his soul in
archangelical circumlucencies. Oh, Doxodox! whip me the Strophalunian
top! Tell o'er thy Jynges!"

"Down, Azzageddi! down!" cried Media. "Behold: there sits the Wise
One; now, for true wisdom!"

From the voices of the party, the sage must have been aware of our
approach: but seated on a green bank, beneath the shade of a red
mulberry, upon the boughs of which, many an owl was perched, he seemed
intent upon describing divers figures in the air, with a jet-black wand.