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- never before was virtue so lifted up among us, that all might see;
never before did rays from heaven descend to glorify it, But are Truth,
Justice, and Love, the revelations of Alma alone? Were they never heard
of till he came? Oh! Alma but opens unto us our own hearts. Were his
precepts strange we would recoil—not one feeling would respond;
whereas, once hearkened to, our souls embrace them as with the
instinctive tendrils of a vine.”
“But,” said Babbalanja, “since Alma, they say, was solely intent upon
the things of the Mardi to come—which to all, must seem uncertain—of
what benefit his precepts for the daily lives led here?”
“Would! would that Alma might once more descend! Brother! were the turf
our everlasting pillow, still would the Master’s faith answer a blessed
end;—making us more truly happy _here_. _That_ is the first and chief
result; for holy here, we must be holy elsewhere. ’Tis Mardi, to which
loved Alma gives his laws; not Paradise.”
“Full soon will I be testing all these things,” murmured Mohi.
“Old man,” said Media, “thy years and Mohi’s lead ye both to dwell upon
the unknown future. But speak to me of other themes. Tell me of this
island and its people. From all I have heard, and now behold, I gather
that here there dwells no king; that ye are left to yourselves; and
that this mystic Love, ye speak of, is your ruler. Is it so? Then, are
ye full as visionary, as Mardi rumors. And though for a time, ye may
have prospered,—long, ye can not be, without some sharp lesson to
convince ye, that your faith in Mardian virtue is entirely vain.”
“Truth. We have no king; for Alma’s precepts rebuke the arrogance of
place and power. He is the tribune of mankind; nor will his true faith
be universal Mardi’s, till our whole race is kingless. But think not we
believe in man’s perfection. Yet, against all good, he is not
absolutely set. In his heart, there is a germ. _That_ we seek to
foster. To _that_ we cling; else, all were hopeless!”
“Your social state?”
“It is imperfect; and long must so remain. But we make not the
miserable many support the happy few. Nor by annulling reason’s laws,
seek to breed equality, by breeding anarchy. In all things, equality is
not for all. Each has his own. Some have wider groves of palms than
others; fare better; dwell in more tasteful arbors; oftener renew their
fragrant thatch. Such differences must be. But none starve outright,
while others feast. By the abounding, the needy are supplied. Yet not
by statute, but from dictates, born half dormant in us, and warmed into
life by Alma. Those dictates we but follow in all we do; we are not
dragged to righteousness; but go running. Nor do we live in common. For
vice and virtue blindly mingled, form a union where vice too often
proves the alkali. The vicious we make dwell apart, until reclaimed.
And reclaimed they soon must be, since every thing invites. The sin of
others rests not upon our heads: none we drive to crime. Our laws are
not of vengeance bred, but Love and Alma.”
“Fine poetry all this,” said Babbalanja, “but not so new. Oft do they
warble thus in bland Maramma!”
“It sounds famously, old man!” said Media, “but men are men. Some must
starve; some be scourged.—Your doctrines are impracticable.”
“And are not these things enjoined by Alma? And would Alma inculcate
the impossible? of what merit, his precepts, unless they may be
practiced? But, I beseech ye, speak no more of Maramma. Alas! did Alma
revisit Mardi, think you, it would be among those Morals he would lay
his head?”
“No, no,” said Babbalanja, “as an intruder he came; and an intruder
would he be this day. On all sides, would he jar our social systems.”
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