Mardi: and A Voyage Thither, Vol. II

by Herman Melville

  "Croak no more, raven!" cried Media. "Mardi is full of spring-timesights, and jubilee sounds. I never was sad in my life."

  "But for thy one laugh, my lord, how many groans! Were all happy, orall miserable,--more tolerable then, than as it is. But happiness andmisery are so broadly marked, that this Mardi may be theretributive future of some forgotten past.--Yet vain our surmises.Still vainer to say, that all Mardi is but a means to an end; thatthis life is a state of probation: that evil is but permitted for aterm; that for specified ages a rebel angel is viceroy.--Nay, nay. Orodelegates his scepter to none; in his everlasting reign there are nointerregnums; and Time is Eternity; and we live in Eternity now. Yet,some tell of a hereafter, where all the mysteries of life will beover; and the sufferings of the virtuous recompensed. Oro is just,they say.--Then always,--now, and evermore. But to make restitutionimplies a wrong; and Oro can do no wrong. Yet what seems evil to us,may be good to him. If he fears not, nor hopes,--he has no otherpassion; no ends, no purposes. He lives content; all ends arecompassed in Him; He has no past, no future; He is the everlastingnow; which is an everlasting calm; and things that are, have been,--will be. This gloom's enough. But hoot! hoot! the night-owl rangesthrough the woodlands of Maramma; its dismal notes pervade our lives;and when we would fain depart in peace, that bird flies on before:--cloud-like, eclipsing our setting suns, and filling the air withdolor."

  "Too true!" cried Yoomy. "Our calms must come by storms. Like helmlessvessels, tempest-tossed, our only anchorage is when we founder."

  "Our beginnings," murmured Mohi, "are lost in clouds; we live indarkness all our days, and perish without an end."

  "Croak on, cowards!" cried Media, "and fly before the hideous phantomsthat pursue ye."

  "No coward he, who hunted, turns and finds no foe to fight," saidBabbalanja. "Like the stag, whose brow is beat with wings of hawks,perched in his heavenward antlers; so I, blinded, goaded, headlong,rush! this way and that; nor knowing whither; one forest wide around!"

  CHAPTER LXXXIIThey Sail From Night To Day

  Ere long the three canoes lurched heavily in a violent swell. Likepalls, the clouds swept to and fro, hooding the gibbering winds. Atevery head-beat wave, our arching prows reared up, and shuddered; thenight ran out in rain.

  Whither to turn we knew not; nor what haven to gain; so dense thedarkness.

  But at last, the storm was over. Our shattered prows seemed gilded.Day dawned; and from his golden vases poured red wine upon the waters.

  That flushed tide rippled toward us; floating from the east, a lonecanoe; in which, there sat a mild, old man; a palm-bough in his hand:a bird's beak, holding amaranth and myrtles, his slender prow.

  "Alma's blessing upon ye, voyagers! ye look storm-worn."

  "The storm we have survived, old man; and many more, we yet mustride," said Babbalanja.

  "The sun is risen; and all is well again. We but need to repair ourprows," said Media.

  "Then, turn aside to Serenia, a pleasant isle, where all are welcome;where many storm-worn rovers land at last to dwell."

  "Serenia?" said Babbalanja; "methinks Serenia is that land ofenthusiasts, of which we hear, my lord; where Mardians pretend to theunnatural conjunction of reason with things revealed; where Alma, theysay, is restored to his divine original; where, deriving theirprinciples from the same sources whence flow the persecutions ofMaramma,--men strive to live together in gentle bonds of peaceand charity;--folly! folly!"

  "Ay," said Media; "much is said of those people of Serenia; but theirsocial fabric must soon fall to pieces; it is based upon the idlest oftheories. Thanks for thy courtesy, old man, but we care not to visitthy isle. Our voyage has an object, which, something tells me, willnot be gained by touching at thy shores. Elsewhere we may refit.Farewell! 'Tis breezing; set the sails! Farewell, old man."

  "Nay, nay! think again; the distance is but small; the wind fair,--but'tis ever so, thither;--come: we, people of Serenia, are most anxiousto be seen of Mardi; so that if our manner of life seem good, allMardi may live as we. In blessed Alma's name, I pray ye, come!"

  "Shall we then, my lord?"

  "Lead on, old man! We will e'en see this wondrous isle."

  So, guided by the venerable stranger, by noon we descried an islandblooming with bright savannas, and pensive with peaceful groves.

  Wafted from this shore, came balm of flowers, and melody of birds: athousand summer sounds and odors. The dimpled tide sang round oursplintered prows; the sun was high in heaven, and the waters were deepbelow.

  "The land of Love!" the old man murmured, as we neared the beach,where innumerable shells were gently rolling in the playful surf, andmurmuring from their tuneful valves. Behind, another, and a verdantsurf played against lofty banks of leaves; where the breeze, likewise,found its shore.

  And now, emerging from beneath the trees, there came a goodlymultitude in flowing robes; palm-branches in their hands; and as theycame, they sang:--

  Hail! voyagers, hail! Whence e'er ye come, where'er ye rove, No calmer strand, No sweeter land, Will e'er ye view, than the Land of Love!

  Hail! voyagers, hail! To these, our shores, soft gales invite: The palm plumes wave, The billows lave, And hither point fix'd stars of light!

  Hail! voyagers, hail! Think not our groves wide brood with gloom; In this, our isle, Bright flowers smile: Full urns, rose-heaped, these valleys bloom.

  Hail! voyagers, hail! Be not deceived; renounce vain things; Ye may not find A tranquil mind, Though hence ye sail with swiftest wings.

  Hail! voyagers, hail! Time flies full fast; life soon is o'er; And ye may mourn, That hither borne, Ye left behind our pleasant shore.

  CHAPTER LXXXIIIThey Land

  The song was ended; and as we gained the strand, the crowd embracedus; and called us brothers; ourselves and our humblest attendants.

  "Call ye us brothers, whom ere now ye never saw?"

  "Even so," said the old man, "is not Oro the father of all? Then, arewe not brothers? Thus Alma, the master, hath commanded."

  "This was not our reception in Maramma," said Media, "the appointedplace of Alma; where his precepts are preserved."

  "No, no," said Babbalanja; "old man! your lesson of brotherhood waslearned elsewhere than from Alma; for in Maramma and in all itstributary isles true brotherhood there is none. Even in the HolyIsland many are oppressed; for heresies, many murdered; and thousandsperish beneath the altars, groaning with offerings that might relievethem."

  "Alas! too true. But I beseech ye, judge not Alma by all those whoprofess his faith. Hast thou thyself his records searched?"

  "Fully, I have not. So long, even from my infancy, have I witnessedthe wrongs committed in his name; the sins and inconsistencies of hisfollowers; that thinking all evil must flow from a congenial fountain,I have scorned to study the whole record of your Master's life. Byparts I only know it."

  "Ah! baneful error! But thus is it, brothers!! that the wisest are setagainst the Truth, because of those who wrest it from itself."

  "Do ye then claim to live what your Master hath spoken? Are yourprecepts practices?"

  "Nothing do we claim: we but 'earnestly endeavor."

  "Tell me not of your endeavors, but of your life. What hope for thefatherless among ye?"

  "Adopted as a son."

  "Of one poor, and naked?"

  "Clothed, and he wants for naught."

  "If ungrateful, he smite you?"

  "Still we feed and clothe him."

  "If yet an ingrate?"

  "Long, he can not be; for Love is a fervent fire."

  "But what, if widely he dissent from your belief in Alma;--then,surely, ye must cast him forth?"

  "No, no; we will remember, that if he dissent from us, we then equallydissent from him; and men's faculties are Oro-given. Nor will we saythat he is wrong, and we are right; for this we know not, absolutely.But we c
are not for men's words; we look for creeds in actions; whichare the truthful symbols of the things within. He who hourly prays toAlma, but lives not up to world-wide love and charity--that man ismore an unbeliever than he who verbally rejects the Master, but doeshis bidding. Our lives are our Amens."

  "But some say that what your Alma teaches is wholly new--a revelationof things before unimagined, even by the poets. To do his bidding,then, some new faculty must be vouchsafed, whereby to apprehend aright."

  "So have I always thought," said Mohi.

  "If Alma teaches love, I want no gift to learn," said Yoomy.

  "All that is vital in the Master's faith, lived here in Mardi, and inhumble dells was practiced, long previous to the Master's coming. Butnever before was virtue so lifted up among us, that all might see;never before did rays from heaven descend to glorify it, But areTruth, Justice, and Love, the revelations of Alma alone? Were theynever heard of till he came? Oh! Alma but opens unto us our ownhearts. Were his precepts strange we would recoil--not one feelingwould respond; whereas, once hearkened to, our souls embrace them aswith the instinctive tendrils of a vine."

  "But," said Babbalanja, "since Alma, they say, was solely intent uponthe things of the Mardi to come--which to all, must seem uncertain--ofwhat benefit his precepts for the daily lives led here?"

  "Would! would that Alma might once more descend! Brother! were theturf our everlasting pillow, still would the Master's faith answer ablessed end;--making us more truly happy _here_. _That_ is the firstand chief result; for holy here, we must be holy elsewhere. 'TisMardi, 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 dwellupon the unknown future. But speak to me of other themes. Tell me ofthis island and its people. From all I have heard, and now behold, Igather 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, yemay have prospered,--long, ye can not be, without some sharp lesson toconvince ye, that your faith in Mardian virtue is entirely vain."

  "Truth. We have no king; for Alma's precepts rebuke the arrogance ofplace and power. He is the tribune of mankind; nor will his true faithbe universal Mardi's, till our whole race is kingless. But think notwe believe in man's perfection. Yet, against all good, he is notabsolutely set. In his heart, there is a germ. _That_ we seek tofoster. To _that_ we cling; else, all were hopeless!"

  "Your social state?"

  "It is imperfect; and long must so remain. But we make not themiserable many support the happy few. Nor by annulling reason's laws,seek to breed equality, by breeding anarchy. In all things, equalityis not for all. Each has his own. Some have wider groves of palms thanothers; fare better; dwell in more tasteful arbors; oftener renewtheir fragrant thatch. Such differences must be. But none starveoutright, while others feast. By the abounding, the needy aresupplied. Yet not by statute, but from dictates, born half dormant inus, and warmed into life by Alma. Those dictates we but follow in allwe do; we are not dragged to righteousness; but go running. Nor do welive in common. For vice and virtue blindly mingled, form a unionwhere vice too often proves the alkali. The vicious we make dwellapart, until reclaimed. And reclaimed they soon must be, since everything invites. The sin of others rests not upon our heads: none wedrive to crime. Our laws are not of vengeance bred, but Love andAlma."

  "Fine poetry all this," said Babbalanja, "but not so new. Oft do theywarble thus in bland Maramma!"

  "It sounds famously, old man!" said Media, "but men are men. Some muststarve; some be scourged.--Your doctrines are impracticable."

  "And are not these things enjoined by Alma? And would Alma inculcatethe impossible? of what merit, his precepts, unless they may bepracticed? But, I beseech ye, speak no more of Maramma. Alas! did Almarevisit Mardi, think you, it would be among those Morals he would layhis head?"

  "No, no," said Babbalanja, "as an intruder he came; and an intruderwould he be this day. On all sides, would he jar our social systems."

  "Not here, not here! Rather would we welcome Alma hungry and athirst,than though he came floating hither on the wings of seraphs; theblazing zodiac his diadem! In all his aspects we adore him; needing nopomp and power to kindle worship. Though he came from Oro; though hedid miracles; though through him is life;--not for these things alone,do we thus love him. We love him from, an instinct in us;--a fond,filial, reverential feeling. And this would yet stir in our souls,were death our end; and Alma incapable of befriending us. We love himbecause we do."

  "Is this man divine?" murmured Babbalanja. "But thou speakest mostearnestly of adoring Alma:--I see no temples in your groves."

  "Because this isle is all one temple to his praise; every leaf isconsecrated his. We fix not Alma here and there; and say,--'thosegroves for Him, and these broad fields for us.' It is all his own; andwe ourselves; our every hour of life; and all we are, and have."

  "Then, ye forever fast and pray; and stand and sing; as at longintervals the censer-bearers in Maramma supplicate their gods."

  "Alma forbid! We never fast; our aspirations are our prayers; ourlives are worship. And when we laugh, with human joy at human things,--_then_ do we most sound great Oro's praise, and prove the merit ofsweet Alma's love! Our love in Alma makes us glad, not sad. Ye speakof temples;--behold! 'tis by not building _them_, that we widencharity among us. The treasures which, in the islands round about, arelavished on a thousand fanes;--with these we every day relieve theMaster's suffering disciples. In Mardi, Alma preached in open fields,--and must his worshipers have palaces?"

  "No temples, then no priests;" said Babbalanja, "for few priests willenter where lordly arches form not the portal."

  "We have no priests, but one; and he is Alma's self. We have hisprecepts: we seek no comments but our hearts."

  "But without priests and temples, how long will flourish this yourfaith?" said Media.

  "For many ages has not this faith lived, in spite of priests andtemples? and shall it not survive them? What we believe, we holddivine; and things divine endure forever."

  "But how enlarge your bounds? how convert the vicious, withoutpersuasion of some special seers? Must your religion go hand in handwith all things secular?"

  "We hold not, that one man's words should be a gospel to the rest; butthat Alma's words should be a gospel to us all. And not by preceptswould we have some few endeavor to persuade; but all, by practice, fixconvictions, that the life we lead is the life for all. We areapostles, every one. Where'er we go, our faith we carry in our hands,and hearts. It is our chiefest joy. We do not put it wide away sixdays out of seven; and then, assume it. In it we all exult, and joy;as that which makes us happy here; as that, without which, we could behappy nowhere; as something meant for this time present, andhenceforth for aye. It is our vital mode of being; not an incident.And when we die, this faith shall be our pillow; and when we rise, ourstaff; and at the end, our crown. For we are all immortal. Here, Almajoins with our own hearts, confirming nature's promptings."

  "How eloquent he is!" murmured Babbalanja. "Some black cloud seemsfloating from me. I begin to see. I come out in light. The sharp fangtears me less. The forked flames wane. My soul sets back like oceanstreams, that sudden change their flow. Have I been sane? Quickened inme is a hope. But pray you, old man--say on--methinks, that in yourfaith must be much that jars with reason."

  "No, brother! Right-reason, and Alma, are the same; else Alma, notreason, would we reject. The Master's great command is Love; and heredo all things wise, and all things good, unite. Love is all in all.The more we love, the more we know; and so reversed. Oro we love; thisisle; and our wide arms embrace all Mardi like its reef. How can weerr, thus feeling? We hear loved Alma's pleading, prompting voice, inevery breeze, in every leaf; we see his earnest eye in every star andflower."

  "Poetry!" cried Yoomy; "and poetry is trut
h! He stirs me."

  "When Alma dwelt in Mardi, 'twas with the poor and friendless. He fedthe famishing; he healed the sick; he bound up wounds. For everyprecept that he spoke, he did ten thousand mercies. And Alma is ourloved example."

  "Sure, all this is in the histories!" said Mohi, starting.

  "But not alone to poor and friendless, did Alma wend his charitableway. From lowly places, he looked up; and long invoked greatchieftains in their state; and told them all their pride was vanity;and bade them ask their souls. 'In _me_,' he cried, 'is that heart ofmild content, which in vain ye seek in rank and title. I am Love: loveye then me.'"

  "Cease, cease, old man!" cried Media; "thou movest me beyond myseeming. What thoughts are these? Have done! Wouldst thou unking me?"

  "Alma is for all; for high and low. Like heaven's own breeze, he liftsthe lily from its lowly stem, and sweeps, reviving, through the palmygroves. High thoughts he gives the sage, and humble trust the simple.Be the measure what it may, his grace doth fill it to the brim. Helays the lashings of the soul's wild aspirations after things unseen;oil he poureth on the waters; and stars come out of night's blackconcave at his great command. In him is hope for all; for all,unbounded joys. Fast locked in his loved clasp, no doubts dismay. Heopes the eye of faith and shuts the eye of fear. He is all we prayfor, and beyond; all, that in the wildest hour of ecstasy, rapt fancypaints in bright Auroras upon the soul's wide, boundless Orient!"