And it rains no more.”
I will not say anything against that, if it is indeed four [[5]]o’clock, and it has really stopped raining. But if it is a quarter to three, then I, who do not put my words in verse, can say, “It is a quarter to three, and it has stopped raining.” But the rhymer, because it rains “no more,” is bound to say “four.” Either the time or the weather must be changed, and a lie is the result. And it is not rhyming alone that allures young people to untruth. Go to the theatre, and listen to all the lies they tell you. The hero of the piece is saved from being drowned by a person who is on the point of becoming a bankrupt. Then, as we are told, he gives his preserver half his fortune,—a statement that cannot be true, as I proceed to show. When lately my hat was blown by the wind into the Prinsen Canal, I gave the man twopence who brought it back to me, and he was satisfied. I know very well that I ought to have given a little more if he had saved my own self from drowning, but certainly not half my fortune; for it is evident that in such a case, falling twice into the water would quite ruin me. The worst of these scenes on the stage is, that people become so much accustomed to untruths, that they get into the habit of admiring and applauding them. I should like to throw all such applauders into the water, to see how many of them really meant that applause. I, who love truth, hereby give notice, that I won’t pay half my fortune for being fished up. He who is not satisfied with less, need not touch me. On Sundays only I should give a little more, on account [[6]]of my gold chain and best coat. Yes! many persons become corrupted by the stage, much more than by novels, for seeing is believing. With tinsel and lace cut out in paper, all looks so very attractive, that is to say, for children and men who are not accustomed to business. And even when they want to represent poverty, their representation is generally a lie. A girl whose father has become a bankrupt, works to support her family. Very well; you see her on the stage, sewing, knitting, or embroidering. Now, do count the stitches which she makes during a whole act. She talks, she sighs, she runs to the window, she does everything except work. Surely the family that can live by such work needs very little. This girl is, of course, the heroine. She has pushed some seducers down-stairs, and cries continually, “Oh, mother, mother!” and thus she represents Virtue. A nice virtue indeed, which takes a year in making a pair of stockings! Does not all this serve to give you false ideas of virtue, and of “labour for daily bread?” All folly and lies! Then her first lover, who was formerly a copying-clerk, but is now immensely rich, returns suddenly, and marries her. Lies again. He who has money does not marry a bankrupt’s daughter. You think that such a scene will do on the stage, as an exceptional case, but the audience will mistake the exception for the rule, and thus become demoralized by accustoming themselves to applaud on the stage, that which in the [[7]]world every respectable broker or merchant considers to be ridiculous madness. When I was married, we were thirteen of us at the office of my father-in-law, Last and Co.,—and a good deal of business was done there, I can assure you. And now for more lies on the stage:—When the hero walks away in a stiff, stage-like manner, to serve his native country, why does the back-door always open of itself?
And then this Virtue rewarded!—oh, oh! I have been these seventeen years a coffee-broker, at No. 37 Laurier Canal, and I have had a great deal of experience, but I am always much shocked when I see the dear, good truth so distorted. Rewarded Virtue, forsooth! just as if virtue was a trade commodity! It is not so in the world, and it is very good that it is not so, for where would be the real merit if virtue were always rewarded? Why then always invent such shameful lies? There is, for instance, Lucas, the warehouse-porter, who had been in the employ of Last and Co.’s father,—the firm was then Last and Meyer, but the Meyers are no longer in it,—he was really an honest man, in my opinion. Never was a single coffee-bean missing; he went to church very punctually; and was a teetotaller. When my father-in-law was at his country seat at Driebergen, this man kept the house, the cash, and everything. Once the bank paid him seventeen guilders too much, and he returned them. He is now too old and gouty to work, [[8]]and therefore starves, for our large business transactions require young men. Well, this Lucas has been a very virtuous man—but is he rewarded? Does a prince give him diamonds, or a fairy nice dinners? Certainly not; he is poor, and he remains poor, and that must be so. I cannot help him. We want active young men for our extensive business; but if I could do anything for him, his merit would be rewarded in an easy life, now that he is old. Then if all warehouse-porters, and everybody else became virtuous, all would be rewarded in this world, and there would remain no special reward for the good people hereafter. But on the stage they distort everything—turn everything into lies.
I too am virtuous, but do I ask a reward for that? When my affairs go on well, as they generally do; when my wife and children are healthy, so that I have nothing to do with doctors; when I can put aside every year a small sum for old age; when Fred behaves well, that he may be able to take my place when I retire to my country-seat near Driebergen,—then I am quite satisfied. But all this is only a natural consequence of circumstances, and because I attend to my business. I claim nothing for my virtue; and that I am a virtuous man is evident from my love for truth, which is second only to my great inclination to my Faith—I should like to convince you of this, dear reader, because it is my excuse for writing this book. Another passion equally strong is my love of business. [[9]]I am a coffee-broker, at No. 37 Laurier Canal. Well, reader, this book owes its existence to my inviolable love for truth, and my zeal for business. I will tell you how all this has happened. But as I must now leave you for some time, being obliged to go to the Exchange, I invite you to a second chapter. Pray, take this with you; it may be of service to you. Look here,—my card,—I am the “Co.,” since the Meyers went out—old Last is my father-in-law:—
Last & Co.,
Coffee-Brokers,
No. 37 Laurier Canal. [[10]]
[1] Hieronymus Van Alphen, author of Little Poems for Children, etc., was born in 1746, died in 1803. [↑]
[2] See the History of Holland. [↑]
[3] A club at the Zoological Gardens, whose motto is “Artis Natura magistra.” [↑]