The first thing that saluted the Buccaneer's ears after all the
rejoicings at his safe return were over, was a low, dull, rumbling sound
as if distant thunder.
"What is that?" he asked of Dogvane.
"I know not, sir; but the atmosphere is heavy, and there may be a storm
abrewing; but I hear nothing." This was an official statement on the
part of Dogvane that was wide of the truth.
The art of lying has already been touched upon; but there are many kinds
of lies which have not been enumerated. There is the oblique lie, the
lie direct. The lie by implication and insinuation; and passing by the
various kinds of social lie there is the official and the diplomatic
lie. The latter is very much superior to the "lie vulgaris" or common
lie, and it moves in the very best society. It is a most polished
courtier. The official and diplomatic lie require very great skill and
study so as not to betray their owner. They require also a natural
aptitude, a schooled countenance, so that neither the eye, the voice,
nor the mouth discloses their secret. Your diplomatist especially, to be
successful, should be indeed a most refined and accomplished liar.
Dogvane knew very well what the rumbling sound was. It was the Drum
Ecclesiastic. He thought for a moment and then muttered to himself, "Who
the devil has set that old instrument going?" Then after a pause he
said: "The handiwork, I'll be bound, of that young rascal Random Jack.
Drat his little skin! He's always in mischief."
But louder and louder grew the sound, and in a short time there could be
no disguising the fact that the Church was sounding the alarm. Dogvane
thought it best to take at once the bull by the horns. "It's a bold
party stroke, sir," he said, "a very bold party stroke and well worthy
of the other watch. Knowing your love for the old craft, God bless her!
they have tried to frighten you. Their goings on are really shameful."
But now a most imposing procession formed up on board the Church Hulk
and headed by the High Priest, proceeded on board the Ship of State and
discovered to the Buccaneer and his trusty captain the vile and sinful
plot of the cook's caboose.
No doubt in olden times the cook, the butcher and the carpenter, with
his mate, would have been cursed with bell and book, when the devil
would have put in an appearance and have carried the conspirators away
with him bodily to his infernal regions; but cursings have gone out of
fashion. In fact they seem to have lost their power, like drugs that
have been too long kept. The High Priest told the Buccaneer that his
cherished Church was in danger. That in fact there was a conspiracy
afloat, to board and rob her, and then to cast her adrift, when Heaven
alone knew what would become of her. Of one thing he felt certain; the
many flocks would wander about without shepherds, or would be tended by
those of inferior learning and understanding. The High Priest then began
to lecture the Buccaneer, thinking no doubt that he was the same pliant
and penitent gentleman as of old, when he was ever ready to fall upon
his knees and cry, "I have sinned." But now when the High Priest told
him that the danger to his Church was brought about by his selfishness,
worldliness, and general religious indifference, and that to counteract
all this accumulation of evil he ought to humble himself and scourge
himself inwardly by prayers and fastings, the bold Buccaneer opened out
in an altogether unexpected manner, and said: "Should not all this be
done by my State Church? At least," he added, "set me the example, and
where you lead there will I follow; but it is no use your pointing up
the steep hill which leads to heaven and bidding me walk, while you and
all your followers drive there in a well cushioned carriage and pair. If
my Church is in danger, the danger comes from within, and you have no
one to blame but yourselves. Let the crew of your ship, my lord, cease
squabbling amongst themselves about trifles. Let them set their face
against the pomps and vanities of the world, and let them look well
within to see if by chance any worldliness has got possession of their
own hearts."
This cruel language shocked the Buccaneer's High Priest, and he was
about to reply; but the Buccaneer stopped him, saying; "Stay, stay a
minute, in the past you have lectured me a good deal and told me, no
doubt, many a home truth, and I thank you. I now return you the
compliment, for it may be of service to you, as you say your Church is
in danger. All things on board that old Hulk there are not as they
should be; for while some of her crew lead the life of Dives, too many
have to walk in the footsteps of Lazarus. The labour and the hire are
not equally divided. I am going now to look a little more into my
affairs, and I shall soon call upon you to render a just account of your
stewardship. Many of you do not act as if you believed in what you
preach: the salt having lost in many cases its flavour.
"How have the mighty fallen?" exclaimed the High Priest. The Buccaneer,
misunderstanding the words of the head of his Church, replied, "And
pray, whose fault is that? Perhaps there are hypocrites and even
Pharisees amongst you; those who seek the highest places in the
synagogues and at the social table, and who are worshippers of forms and
ceremonies." What wickedness was here! But this bold, bad man continued
in the same strain, or stay, it may have been the wicked devil who was
making this eminently respectable and pious old Buccaneer, his
mouthpiece. "Has pride, arrogance, and self-sufficiency any place in
your hearts?" he asked. "Has my priesthood fallen and been led captive
by mammon and selfishness, and while they fix one eye constantly upon
heaven, do they not with the other look too lovingly upon the earth?
Fast then and pray yourselves, for thy faith may be weak, and as the
Israelites of old fell away and worshipped more gods than one, so too
may my priests have set up some graven image or images, and here may lie
the danger. Search well yourselves and put your ship in order. It is no
use preaching to the world abstinence if you do not practise it
yourselves. Our religion was placed in poor soil, tended and cared for
by mendicant labourers, and it flourished. The workers now are of a
different caste, the spirit of the first teachers has passed away, and
the flower fades."
This was not a bad specimen of pulpit oratory, coming as it did from an
old gentleman who had commenced life as a pirate; but it is well known
that the greater the sinner the greater the saint. The language of the
bold Buccaneer was fully discussed and fully condemned, and the great
Church drum still kept beating. The sound went out all over the land;
was heard upon many a hearth, and put fear into many a breast, for the
old Church Hulk was dearly loved, with all her faults, more especially
by the Buccaneer's women, in whose eyes a priest was little less than a
god clothed in a decent suit of black.
But what was going on on board the Church Hulk all this time? The
burning question of Church in danger was pushed aside, and high above
everything else the voice of controversy could be heard arguing upon a
matter of the deepest import to all the world. It was the question of
eternal punishment, which, alas! can never be satisfactorily settled; as
to whether the soul that dies in sin is surely for ever damned. The
adventurous spirits who had started this rank and soul-destroying heresy
of hope even beyond the grave were few in number. These seemed to have a
beautiful faith, if an erroneous one, in God's unbounded mercy, which,
overtaking the poor lost soul before it entered the gates of hell, might
in some cases bring it back to the bright realms of eternal bliss. For
so rank a heresy there was perhaps neither authority nor justification,
and it did more honour to the hearts of the schismatics than it did
credit to their understanding or learning; so it was thought. The
majority of the disputants stuck, however, to the penal clause, which
says that the soul that dies in sin shall surely perish. These fortified
themselves behind ramparts built up of dogma and bound together with the
strong and lasting cement of human passions. Over the battlements they
hung out their banner, on which was emblazoned the words, "No
Surrender." The little band were driven back and had to seek
consolation in the thought that no matter what is said and done, God is
the God of Mercy.
Poor, poor soul, how heavily you are weighted. Given passions, and
desires, and all kinds of forbidden fruit placed well within your reach,
with a longing to taste. Pluck, and you are straightway handed over to
the devil, to be flagellated, tortured, and burned everlastingly. So it
is said. Ye priests, in the past, what a heaven and what a hell have ye
made for human beings! See the father torn away from his fair-haired
child and hurled headlong to the bottomless pit, where there is nothing
but weeping and gnashing of teeth, and a fire that is never quenched.
See the mother taken away from her erring son, and winged up to heaven
with a bleeding, broken heart. See the sister with her loving arms
twined round some lost brother's neck, and crying out in her anguish,
"Lord! Lord! let me share his lot; let his misery be mine. Let me
moisten his parched lips with my tears. Where he lies let me lie also."
But the bitter parting has to come, and while one sobbing is taken to
Heaven, the other is sent to Hell. In the dark clouds that superstition
has hung over trembling humanity we see a little rift, as vivid in
brightness as when the Heavens are cleft with lightning, and through the
rent we see pale-faced Pity weeping for the loss of her children.