Yet the One, whom he would fain call Master, but whose teachings he is slow in following, said: “Woe be to them by whom offense cometh.” But the “unco guid” is a Christian failure, a parvenu.
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The parvenu is a person who makes strenuous efforts to persuade other people that he is entitled to the position he occupies.
There are parvenus in religion, as there are parvenus in the aristocracy, in society, in literature, in the fine arts, etc.
| THE PARVENU. |
The worst type of the French parvenu is the one whose father was a worthy, hard-working man called Dubois or Dumont, and who, at his father’s death, dubs himself du Bois or du Mont, becomes a clericalist and the stanchest monarchist, and runs down the great Revolution which made one of his grand-parents a man. M. du Bois or du Mont outdoes the genuine nobleman, who needs make no noise to attract attention to a name which everybody knows, and which, in spite of what may be said on the subject, often recalls the memory of some glorious event in the past.
The worst type of Anglo-Saxon parvenu is probably the “unco guid,” or religious parvenu.
The Anglo-Saxon “unco guid” is seldom to be found among Roman Catholics; that is, among the followers of the most ancient Christian religion. He is to be found among the followers of the newest forms of “Christianity.” This is quite natural. He has to try to eclipse his fellow-Christians by his piety, in order to show that the new religion to which he belongs was a necessary invention.
The Anglo-Saxon “unco guid” is easily recognized. He is dark (all bigots and fanatics are). He is dressed in black, shiny broadcloth raiment. A wide-brimmed felt hat covers his head. He walks with light, short, jaunty steps, his head a little inclined on one side. He never carries a stick, which might give a rather fast appearance to his turn-out. He invariably carries an umbrella, even in the brightest weather, as being more respectable—and this umbrella he never rolls, for he would avoid looking in the distance as if he had a stick. He casts right and left little grimaces that are so many forced smiles of self-satisfaction. “Try to be as good as I am,” he seems to say to all who happen to look at him, “and you will be as happy.” And he “smiles, and smiles, and smiles.”
He has a small soul, a small heart, and a small brain.