All the Buccaneer's neighbours had adopted some characteristic emblem or device with an appropriate motto. No people, of any degree of self-respect, can get on without such things. The device generally takes the form of some beast or bird of prey—eagles and vultures being greatly favoured. The bold Buccaneer with a characteristic modesty adopted the lion as his emblem, and as his motto "God and my Right." It is wonderful how he made both ends of his motto meet to his own great advantage. These two principles seldom seemed to clash, and if they did, he generally overcame the difficulty in a most satisfactory manner. This perhaps was the effect of his having a good conscience.

Now the lion is a noble-looking animal. His appearance is ferocious, while his roar is terrifying in the extreme. Those who have watched, and studied his habits, say that in spite of all this, he is about as mean a beast as ever stole a meal or entered upon an unequal fight, being ever ready to rob and plunder the weaker inhabitants of the jungle. Of course, the animal had his good points; all animals have, and, no doubt, it was these that attracted the Buccaneer's attention. How delighted he was when his lion's roar frightened any one of his neighbours! What pleasure too it gave him when he put out his large paw and snatched a handful of feathers out of any of their birds! But then what a terrible screeching there was, and very often a fight.

Not to be behind his neighbour in anything, he created high sounding titles, and honourable distinctions, to reward those of his sons who did well in the buccaneering trade. Then to support the weight of their newly acquired dignity, he either allowed them to levy blackmail on whom they could, or he sent round the hat amongst his own people. This hat was with him a cherished institution, and was used on all kinds of occasions. It was hung up in all his churches, but taken down and sent round after every service. Of such importance was it that it must be deemed to be worthy at all times of a capital to begin with. For length of titles he could not approach many of his neighbours, who frequently found consolation for empty pockets, ruined castles, and extreme poverty in a long string of names.

The bold Buccaneer grew in strength, in riches, and in righteousness also. His family increased and multiplied as all good people's families should; but still he fought, and for the most part conquered. This proved to his own satisfaction that God was generally on his side. When the enemy was handed over to him he despoiled him, thus following the example set him by most other peoples and nations, in olden times and in new. It is a good thing to pluck a beaten adversary well, lest he flies again too soon, and sticks either his beak, or his claws into you. Do not believe him if he says he will not do it. To his beaten foe the Buccaneer was kind, for he gave to him spiritual consolation; giving his Bible and selling him his strong and intoxicating drinks. He fully believed that those who did not live up to the teaching of his book would be eternally damned, though he did not at all times show a disposition to live up to it himself, it being very much too inconvenient to do so. There was occasionally such a difference between his preaching, and his practice, that his neighbours wondered whether he was a knave or a hypocrite, or a good honest gentleman who saw no incongruity in his line of action.

Sometimes in his encounters with his enemies he came off second best, as the saying is. Then there was nothing he was so sure of as that the devil was fighting against him. It was his custom then to look about for a scapegoat, and if he found one he sacrificed him to appease the Divine anger. Then having bound up his broken head and dressed his wounds, he took down his book, read a chapter or two, said his prayers, and then waited until the Lord handed his enemy over to him. Then he quickly wiped off old scores, adding or taking something, by way of interest. Thus he became very much respected by all who knew him. As he prospered, so did his church, for he was very generous as most sailors are. Whatever the edifice was within, it was beautiful without, and had a complete organisation. The High Priest, not Caiaphas, stood at the head of all things, and he was the keeper of the Buccaneer's conscience. It was the duty of the High Priest to keep all his subordinates in order. This was a task which at times he could not perform, for the members of the ecclesiastical body showed themselves to be true chips of the Buccaneer block, and though essentially men of peace, they proved themselves at times to be equally men of war. His priests being the keepers of his conscience, frequently took upon themselves to lecture him; not hesitating even to tell him of his transgressions. Having brought the ardent old sinner upon his knees, and prescribed for him prayers, mortifications, and fastings; having also bled him, they cleaned and repaired his conscience and sent him on his way again. Thus did the priesthood grow in power and in self-respect.

Comparisons, it is said, are odious; but they are necessary at times, and if we compare our friend with any one of his neighbours, we find him not a bit worse; he himself thinking, indeed, that he was infinitely better. To exterminate the heathen, or to bring them over from their evil ways, and to burn all heretics was at one time the pious object of his life. The weak, too, had to be protected, and those who cannot take care of themselves ought, at all times, to be extremely obliged to those who will do it for them, and of course they must expect to pay. Then the evil doer had to be punished and fined, and the pride of the arrogant and haughty had to be humbled, and surplus populations had to be worked off, and anybody undertaking these very disagreeable, though necessary duties, is deserving of the thanks of those who have neither the taste, nor the leisure for the occupation. There is nothing strange in all this. Did not Moses sit upon the hilltop with Aaron on one side and Hur on the other, and while these two held up his hands did he not look with satisfaction upon Joshua discomfiting the Amalekites? and very well Joshua seems to have done his work.

Who then will blame the Buccaneer? As in Joshua's day, so now such things are necessary. And if the Buccaneer did burn a heretic or two, what then? He was strictly impartial. To-day it was what was called a Holy Roman that he fried, to-morrow he varied the bill of fare by roasting a Protestant. That was in his early days.

Our Buccaneer was essentially a fighting man, and though the Book he swore by preached peace on earth and good will towards men, his habit was to mix himself up—in early times at least—in every pot-house brawl that he could, and a cracked head was to him an honourable distinction. He as often as not took the wrong side, and he was frequently found fighting in very queer company; but to his honour it must be said that the weakness of a neighbour, who was put upon, was more to him than any abstract principle of right or wrong, and though he was not above pitching into a fellow smaller than himself, he would not allow anyone else to indulge in the luxury if he could help it.

The ill-natured—those who are for ever ready to find out spots and blemishes in other people, to the utter neglect of their own, said all kinds of things. Called him a hard fighting, hard drinking, and hard swearing Christian. He did swear; it was a bad habit, no doubt; but then his climate was enough to make any man swear, and drink into the bargain. He had his failings, and he did not mind being told of them, and he would sit patiently in church, whilst his priests thundered at him from their many pulpits. He took it all in; said his prayers devoutly, and when the inevitable Hat came round, he gave liberally. Perhaps he experienced some slight regret on such occasions that some of his wicked neighbours were not present to partake of the spiritual food that was thus given freely. He felt sure it would have hit some of them very hard. It might perhaps have made them mend their ways, though, as it did not seem to have a permanent effect upon the Buccaneer himself, there may be a doubt upon the subject. It is said that eels get accustomed to skinning.

In passing it may be mentioned that his women—at least in early times—were honest, virtuous, brave and true, and in every way fitting mothers for a race of warriors. It may be presumed that they had their faults. Indeed, some of his laws and customs would lead us to believe that such was the case. For instance, it was laid down as a rule that no husband should beat his wife with a stick of greater diameter than one inch. There was very great humanity here. Scolds he sometimes ducked. If that did not stop the rancour of their tongues he tried the effect of an instrument called the "branks." This fitted over the head something like a dog-muzzle, and was fastened behind with a padlock, while an iron plate rested upon the tongue, and kept it quiet. This was found to be effective.

Judging from our present high state of civilization when women are allowed full liberty of speech, these early habits and customs of the Buccaneer will not bear looking into. Occasionally in later times some one of his sons, not conspicuous for chivalry, knocked down his wife, or his mother-in-law, and then jumped upon her; but as a general rule his manners were very much softened, and his women were treated with very great indulgence. Perhaps those who suffered were deserving people. If, in his ruder age, the women did not love their lords and masters, they at least respected them, and this feeling in the long-run brings the most happiness. In his latter days a deep suit of mourning, with much crape, and a becoming widow's cap, often covered a joyous heart, and a fresh campaign was commenced. But what is love? You have it; you have it not. It is sometimes near, then again it is obscured by distance. It wanders about like a sweet and gentle spirit above the earth; soaring sometimes with outstretched wings to heaven. It seems brightest when afar. Touch it, and it will shrink and fade like the delicate petals of a flower. It often haunts a grave-yard and makes a home amongst the tombs. You fly from it, and it follows; you turn and chase it and it flies. What is love? It is a veritable Will o' the Wisp.