them in practice?"

"Why, we Protestants regard his words, and endeavour to practise
what they enjoin as much as possible."

"But you reject his image," sad the man in black; "better reject
his words than his image: no religion can exist long which rejects
a good bodily image. Why, the very negro barbarians of High
Barbary could give you a lesson on that point; they have their
fetish images, to which they look for help in their afflictions;
they have likewise a high priest, whom they call--"

"Mumbo Jumbo," said I; "I know all about him already."

"How came you to know anything about him?" said the man in black,
with a look of some surprise.

"Some of us poor Protestants tinkers," said I, "though we live in
dingles, are also acquainted with a thing or two."

"I really believe you are," said the man in black, staring at me;
"but, in connection with this Mumbo Jumbo, I could relate to you a
comical story about a fellow, an English servant, I once met at
Rome."

"It would be quite unnecessary," said I; "I would much sooner hear
you talk about Krishna, his words and image."

"Spoken like a true heretic," said the man in black; "one of the
faithful would have placed his image before his words; for what are