CHAPTER II.
Things in this world do not remain shady long. Time works wonders andthrows the halo of romance over the darkest deeds. See what time andromance have done for William Tell. Look at your Alexander and yourFrederick; are not they both called great? Ah! these two were conquerorsnot plunderers; and there lies the difference, though perhaps MariaTheresa and one or two others might have had something to say againstone of these fine fellows. Then there is Robin Hood. Have not time andromance completely changed the aspect of that, at one time, bold andnotorious outlaw? For over fifty years did this jolly robber enjoyhimself upon other people's property. Look too at the numerous othergentlemen of the road; your crusaders and adventurers in early times.What were the hardy Norsemen, of whom we love to sing? There issomething very attractive about your robber, no matter whether hecarries on his profession by sea or land, the only thing needful being,to study him at a distance, and through the halo of this said romance.If it were not for the world's great robbers what would historians haveto record; what would poets have to sing about? If they had to confinethemselves to the virtuous actions, to the good that is done, theiroccupation would be gone. The chronicling of small beer is a waste oflabour.
But there comes a time when the very worst of sinners are troubled bythat mysterious part of the human economy known by the name ofconscience. This conscience is at times a veritable tyrant, saying whatwe shall eat, what we shall drink, and what we shall do. To the many thematter is not one of difficulty. If they have to make their way in theworld, conscience is either thrown overboard, or put under hatches untilsuch times as it is wanted. Then it comes up all the fresher for itstemporary retirement, and is, generally speaking, very exacting.
The disposition to repent of the evil we have done is not confinedeither to age, time, or sex happily. The call comes perhaps, more often,and earlier, to women than it does to men. Jezebel was not altogether asgood as she ought to have been, but even she might have turned over anew leaf, and have become a most respectable saint, had not misfortunethrown her across the path of that impetuous fellow Jehu, with theresult that she was, as every one knows, thrown out of a window. HadJezebel lived in the Buccaneer island in his later days, and had shebeen young and beautiful, and the paint not too thick upon her face, shemight have been tried for some small act of indiscretion, such forinstance as that trifling incident about Naboth; but probably she wouldhave been acquitted, when no doubt she would have left the court withouta stain upon her character, and would have been an object of sympathyever after. This lady has left a numerous family of daughters behindher, many of whom, however, turn over new leaves, and having beenconsiderable sinners, become the most straight-laced, unpitying, anduncharitable of sour-faced saints. Poor Jezebel the first was nevergiven a chance. She lived too soon.
But to the point. The time came when our bold Buccaneer received, as thesaying is, his call, and it was brought about in the following manner.In early times when saints walked about the earth calling sinners torepentance, one found his way over to the Buccaneer's island, induced togo there, not by the hope of any worldly gain in the shape of churchpreferment or salary; and here lies much of the difference between amodern saint and an ancient one. But the one, of whom we wish nowparticularly to speak, was impelled by the hope of snatching thisburning brand from the devil's fire. Some of the Buccaneer's neighbourshad tried to convert him before this, by means of the sword, but withouteffect, for the pirate's nest was a hard one to take, and the eggs burntthe fingers of all those who attempted to touch them.
The precise spot where the saint landed is open to doubt; so is theexact time and the method of his transit. Some declared that he cameover on a broomstick. Others again, said he used the ordinary means ofconveyance, and this is the most worthy of credence. About saints thereis generally something that is legendary. He preached his gospel to theBuccaneer, and told him in the plainest language that he was going tothe devil, about whose dominion he drew such a glowing account that theBuccaneer was moved.
He repented, and determined to turn over that wonderful leaf, that theworld is for ever hearing so much about, and seeing so little of. Toshow his earnestness, the Buccaneer built churches and endowed them, andnot unfrequently out of the money that he took from other people. Thiswas but right. Belfries rose up in every nook and corner, and their irontongues could be constantly heard calling all pious buccaneers toprayer.
But that befell the saint which sooner or later must happen to us all.He died, but left behind him a book, which he told the Buccaneer was tobe his rule in life, for between its covers there lay the seed of allthat was good, and the gentle spirit of one, who though dead would livefor ever. The precious gift was handed over to the safe custody of theBuccaneer's church, and the old saint with much sorrow and ceremony waslaid in his narrow cell, to await there the sound of the last trump.
The Life of a Celebrated Buccaneer Page 2