“Because this isle is all one temple to his praise; every leaf is consecrated his. We fix not Alma here and there; and say,—‘those groves for Him, and these broad fields for us.’ It is all his own; and we ourselves; our every hour of life; and all we are, and have.” “Then, ye forever fast and pray; and stand and sing; as at long intervals the censer-bearers in Maramma supplicate their gods.” “Alma forbid! We never fast; our aspirations are our prayers; our lives 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 of sweet Alma’s love! Our love in Alma makes us glad, not sad. Ye speak of temples;—behold! ’tis by not building _them_, that we widen charity among us. The treasures which, in the islands round about, are lavished on a thousand fanes;—with these we every day relieve the Master’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 will enter where lordly arches form not the portal.” “We have no priests, but one; and he is Alma’s self. We have his precepts: we seek no comments but our hearts.” “But without priests and temples, how long will flourish this your faith?” said Media. “For many ages has not this faith lived, in spite of priests and temples? and shall it not survive them? What we believe, we hold divine; and things divine endure forever.” “But how enlarge your bounds? how convert the vicious, without persuasion of some special seers? Must your religion go hand in hand with all things secular?” “We hold not, that one man’s words should be a gospel to the rest; but that Alma’s words should be a gospel to us all. And not by precepts would we have some few endeavor to persuade; but all, by practice, fix convictions, that the life we lead is the life for all. We are apostles, 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 six days 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 be happy nowhere; as something meant for this time present, and henceforth 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, our staff; and at the end, our crown. For we are all immortal. Here, Alma joins with our own hearts, confirming nature’s promptings.” “How eloquent he is!” murmured Babbalanja. “Some black cloud seems floating from me. I begin to see. I come out in light. The sharp fang tears me less. The forked flames wane. My soul sets back like ocean streams, that sudden change their flow. Have I been sane? Quickened in me is a hope. But pray you, old man—say on—methinks, that in your faith must be much that jars with reason.”