What am I? I am a whitened sepulchre; a cloak which covers a multitude
of sins. Who am I? I am a masquerader, a thorough hypocrite and a
Pharisee, for I am a worshipper of forms and ceremonies. I move in the
very best society. I am a stickler for social laws and etiquette, and I
love a lord. I am the guardian of public morals, and in all my dealings
I exercise a strict propriety, and I punish severely, not so much the
crime, as its detection. At church I am regularly to be seen; but I
worship more in public than in private, my devotion being more to
attract the attention of my fellow beings than for the sake of God. If I
pray, it is openly. If I give, it is before the eyes of all men. It is
not so much to me what I am as what I appear to be. On my way home from
church I put on a demure, and downcast look, and enjoy in secret my
worldly thoughts. I contemplate with inward pleasure, though I outwardly
condemn, the shortcomings and failings of my neighbours. I put a check
on honest, robust mirth, for its loud, and consequently vulgar laugh
offends me. I keep aloof from all questionable society. A poor relation
I never see, should he present himself at my door, I promptly have him
kicked into the gutter. I dread the touch of an impure hand; but when in
the society of the great I sometimes condescend to visit the slums of
the poor, though the atmosphere is not congenial to me. An erring sister
I pass by as the priest and Levite did the man who fell amongst thieves.
I am a social tyrant, more feared perhaps than loved, though few are so
independent as not to pay me homage. To the indiscretions of the great I
am a little blind, for the vices of the vulgar crowd I show no pity. The
nakedness of the fashionable world does not distress me; but immodesty
amongst the common herd I visit with my severest displeasure. I keep my
eye on all my neighbours; should any of them trip, unless they are saved
by their position I let slip my dogs and hound the miscreants outside my
social pale. I ride rough shod over society, and no one dares to turn
upon me. Who am I? I am society's uncrowned queen, Respectability.
It would be difficult to say at what precise period this uncrowned queen
took up her abode under the roof of the bold Buccaneer; but she did, and
winked at his goings on; because she looked upon him not as a robber,
but as a brave sea-king, who went in quest of venture, and was far
removed from the common and vulgar thief. There are other reasons which
perhaps induced her to take him under her protection. The Buccaneering
business was beginning to fall off, probably because other people had
taken to it more thoroughly, and it is well known that competition
interferes considerably with the very best of trades and professions. It
is possible also that our friend having made a large fortune, was
beginning to see the truth of the maxim, that honesty is the best
policy. Property does undoubtedly alter ideas; take the most rabid
socialist, who is for ever preaching a community of interests and endow
him with a fortune, and the burden of his song is speedily changed and
in a most wonderful manner. Before it was, "_I take_," but now it is,
"_I hold_."
The Buccaneer's wealth had steadily increased, and so had his towns and
cities. The hum from a busy multitude rose up like the murmur of the
distant ocean as it dashed against the rock-bound coast. On his rivers
and bays he had built dockyards, and his shipwrights' hammers could be
heard sounding over the waters far and wide. His ships became celebrated
for their build and rig, and his sailors were considered not only the
bravest, but the most skilled in all the world.
He was a man of great resource and enterprise, was our Buccaneer, and
when he found the one business falling off he at once turned his hand to
another. If no one wanted either beating or robbing, they wanted their
merchandise carried, so he became a carrier to the universe at large,
and combined with it the business of trader. One thing begets another,
and he soon found out other industries. Tall, tapering chimnies pointed
like great black fingers far into the sky and vomited out thick volumes
of black smoke. Then he built mills, and put up machinery, and the
rattle of thousands of wheels could be heard all over the land, and the
uncrowned queen moved about amongst his people and leavened them. But
even in his peaceful pursuits the natural bent of his genius discovered
itself, for he would frequently, for the want of a more worthy object,
steal an idea from a neighbour and then set himself to work to improve
upon it, and he generally turned it to good account. The Buccaneer's
mind was not inventive, but it was eminently adaptive, and this is very
much better, because it generally manages to suck the marrow out of the
bones of genius.
Having been the greatest Buccaneer that ever ploughed the briny ocean,
he now became a mighty trader--a fighting one perhaps;--fetched and
carried for the whole world, and became in fact a universal provider. He
often built and fitted out a ship for some neighbour who turned her guns
against him; but he did not mind so long as he got his price, and he not
unfrequently got the ship back into the bargain in fair and open fight.
So things went merrily on.
As is well known success breeds envy and jealousy, and the Buccaneer's
neighbours soon began to eye his superior good fortune with hatred and
much uncharitableness. They said all kinds of hard things, as people
will. Said his gains were ill gotten. But who will ever believe that
vast wealth has been honestly acquired? Somebody must have been robbed
say they. But if it is only a fool what matter? He and his money must
sooner or later part company. At least, so it is said by those people
who know everything.
The Buccaneer, of course, put his prosperity down to a different cause.
He was a God-fearing and good man. Went to his church regularly; gave of
what he had to the poor; and sheltered himself under the cloaks of
Respectability and Religion. It is true he could not altogether divest
himself of his buccaneering tendencies, and on one occasion he even
robbed a church, which is considered about the last thing a man ought to
do; but then if he did rob Peter he made ample amends by paying Paul
very handsomely. That the Buccaneer was innately a most pious man there
can be little if any doubt; he had none himself. He loved to carry his
religion with him into his everyday life, and even into his business,
and in this perhaps we see the reason why he selected George of
Cappadocia as his patron saint. He loved to adulterate, as it were, all
his merchandise with it, and he succeeded in a marvellous manner. He was
very fond of texts taken from his Book, and these he would hang up in
all suitable and unsuitable places. He regulated his trading
transactions with his neighbours upon the principle laid down in the
parable of the talents, and he took for his especial guide the man who
turned his five pieces into ten; for he considered he must have been an
excellent man of business; a clever fellow in fact, and one well worthy
to be followed. No doubt the parable above alluded to has carried
comfort to the soul of many a Jew, Turk, and even infidel. Trade is at
all times, and in all places, and by all people, considered for some
reason or the other dirty work, and yet it is the founder of great
families, who, however, try as soon as possible, to blot out all
recollection of the source of their greatness. Trade, too, is the
founder and supporter of great nations. Why then is there such a
prejudice against it? Is it not honest? Is its first principle, namely,
to try and get the better of your neighbour in a bargain, condemned by a
virtuous world? Scarcely, for to do your neighbour, to prevent the
possibility of being done by him, seems to be implanted firmly in the
human breast. It is a principle, in fact, which is well adhered to, and
it helps considerably that law of nature which demands the survival of
the fittest. Perhaps it was as a precautionary measure that the
Buccaneer besprinkled himself, as it were, with holy water, before
entering upon his everyday life.